How Curfew Is Affecting The Common Man In The Valley

Under curfew since July 9, Kashmir has become a lost paradise. And, it is the common man who bears the brunt of the battle between the government and the separatists.

- Tariq Bhat

Ever since Kashmir was put under curfew on July 9, a day after Hizbul Mujahideen commander Burhan Wani was killed, waking up early has become a routine for Bilal Ahmed Gujri, a vegetable shop owner from Chotta Bazar in Srinagar. The 25-year-old gets up at 3am, grabs the keys of his bike and rides across the city's bylanes to Mandi, Srinagar's biggest vegetable and fruit market. A drowsy-eyed crowd is already present outside his shop to buy their daily stock of vegetables. By 6am, Bilal's stock is sold out and for the rest of the day, his shop, like most businesses in Kashmir, remains closed because of the curfew and the strike called by the separatists. Half-an-hour later, security forces begin to seal off roads and intersections. Those who defied curfew ran the risk of getting thrashed, or worse, getting blinded by pellets. Curfew was lifted after 52 days, but that didn't help ease the situation. Clashes and killings have continued. It has forced the authorities to reimpose curfew in several areas. So, people like Bilal continue their early morning ritual.

Ghulam Muhammad is a street vendor who sells socks for a living. Usually, he would neatly display bundles of socks on his cart, parking it near bus stops, schools and shopping centres. A month into the curfew, Ghulam grew desperate and ventured out with his cart. A reporter of a national newspaper was so moved by his plight that he offered to buy a few pairs. “But I didn't have enough money on me,” the reporter later told THE WEEK. “On my return, I would buy a few pairs from him.”