On July 17, Danish, 24, a resident of Rainawari in Downtown Srinagar, spent most of his day indoors as necessitated by the curfew. He stepped out at 6.15 pm, to meet his friends at a tea stall near his house. As he was stepping out of the narrow lane that led to the square containing the tea stall, he peeped to see if the curfew had been lifted. Seeing that all the shops had opened up, he was reassured. He sat with his friends at the tea stall and they began to chat. They saw seven armored vehicles of the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) race past them. As the eighth vehicle went past, Danish felt a sharp pain in his face and fell down with the shock. His friend, Aashiq, tried to lift him up and that image is the last that Danish saw.
He had been hit in his eyes and face by pellets fired from a distance of about 10 meters by a security personnel in the armored vehicle as they sped past. Pellet guns have been used by the Jammu and Kashmir State Police and the CRPF, as 'non-lethal' weapons to control crowds in the Kashmir valley. The pellet gun disperses hundreds of sharp lead pellets contained in rings, where one ring would contain approximately 100 pellets. The security personnel have been 'advised' to use the pellet guns 'sparingly' and aim below the waist from a distance.
Danish only came to terms with what had happened when he was in the hospital. A ring containing 100s of pellets had entered through his left eye damaging everything in its path, and then continued to burst inside when the pellets dispersed in various directions, also damaging his right eye. When we met him in late October, he could only see faint shadows out of his right eye and nothing from his left eye. He has gone through two surgeries, which have failed to correct his vision. There are still over a 100 pellets lodged in his head and his eyes. Doctors have said that those pellets will remain for the rest of his life, and the chances of improvement in his vision are slim. In fact, it could get worse.
Danish has not fully come to terms with his disability. He is hopeful that he will regain his vision and be able to see again. "I want to see my family members as soon as I regain my vision", he says sitting in his home and listening to the Television with his face turned away from it, as he does every morning.
His younger sister, who shares a special bond with him, tells him that it is time for the morning dose of eye drops. She carefully opens his eyes with her fingers and drops the medicine with the help of ear buds. "It is very difficult to see him sit at home and suffer mentally. His job required him to travel across Srinagar and he loved to be out and about. Now, he cannot even go to the bathroom on his own", says his sister.
Danish had to start working at a young age, and was the sole bread-earner for a family of six. He worked as a marketing executive for a company selling milk products earning Rs. 7,000 a month, just enough to sustain the family. His mother passed away a few years ago, and his father lost his job soon after that. Danish has been working for the past six years.
"I had to work hard. But, I enjoyed it. I never liked sitting around lazily", he says. His brother sitting on the window sill says, "Now, he doesn't even try to step out of the house. I try to take him out for walks, but he insists on returning within five minutes".
Soon, it is time for the afternoon namaaz (prayer). Danish's sister brings out a prayer rug and rolls it out for her brother. He quietly offers his prayer, while his sister checks on the progress of the chicken curry that she is cooking, his brothers hang around in the sun with their father. Danish is the only one who offers prayer in this house. Perhaps, it helps bring some regimen to what his life has now become.
Lunch is served to Danish by his younger sister. Its chicken curry and rice. Like all Kashmiris, he mixes the rice and curry and eats with his hands. At first, he eats without assistance but soon he starts dropping the food on himself, as at times, he misjudges the precise location of his mouth. His younger sister helps him out and with a gentle touch directs his hand to his mouth. "We really feel bad for him. He was someone who would always do his chores on his own, never ask for help. Now, he cannot do anything without our help", says his elder sister.
"Do you feel anger?', we ask Danish. He smiles quietly, and with a shake of the head says "no". He then moves his head as if to look upwards, takes a deep breath and says, "What will I do even if I do feel angry? I am helpless. Yes, I do feel angry...very angry. But, I control it. It will hurt me only, no one else".
As we put on our shoes and get ready to leave, Danish says to us, "Please pray for me. Pray that I can see again".