‘Normalcy’, curfew and concertina wires curfewed morning in old city on a ‘normal’ day

DANISH NABI
SRINAGAR, Oct 29:
The sun is too low in the overcast sky to cast shadows on ground. The shutters are all down on almost deserted streets. There are no foreign laborers (Biharis) at the Bihari (Hawal) chowk; students and employees too are missing from the bus stop.
At a little distance from the cinema-turned-CRPF camp at Hawal, smoke is coming out from the Chimney of a Kandur (Baker's) shop. Elderly men in Pherans are rubbing hands for warmth as they walk step by step to get the morning bread. In absence of any surprise around, the frown on their faces is reflecting the intense cold unusual at this time of the year. A few policemen carrying batons are standing at a little distance from the camp gate.
A few cars whistle past Firdous cinema, uninterrupted. An elderly person enquires from a middle aged man coming in the opposite direction: “Az chu Zehre Yalai (It is perhaps open today)?”
“Waeseye chune Hartal kaenh, Pate Zaene Khudah ((As such there is no strike today. Rest God Knows better),” comes the reply.
During this exchange of enquiries, a bike moves past the men with a Maruti 800 ahead of it. The young rider wearing jeans, shirt, sweater and a helmet on is shivering with cold. His pace suggesting he is in hurry.
He looks around at the closed shops and blows horn to overtake the slow moving Maruti. But couldn’t go past it.
The car and the bike decelerate to cross the speed breaker near the camp. In that jiffy a white armored policy gypsy appears on the scene. On its rooftop is a concertina wire. A few policemen are hanging out on its back door.
The vehicle pulls up at the feet of the policemen already standing there. The driver takes right and everything comes into motion.
Policemen hanging from the doors step down and the ones already present come closer to the vehicle. An exchange of glances and a policeman brings down the concertina wire onto the road.
The Maruti has already passed but the police vehicle comes in way of the biker. He tries right but cannot pass. He slows down further, pauses and turns left. This time he is able to make way from behind the vehicle.
Behind him a policeman pulls the concertina wire to a shop inline with the camp and anchors it to something. With his baton he pulls away its other end spreading it across to the far end of the road.
The biker looks behind a couple of times, almost losing control over his steering. Then, undeterred, he accelerates in the forward direction but pulls up again near the Jammu and Kashmir bank. All shops are closed. The Hostel of Islamia college of Science and Commerce on the left looks lifeless. Only artificial light on the road is coming out from the bank ATM on the biker’s right.
He looks ahead through his helmet. Concertina wire is spreading across the road in front of him. On one side it is fixed to the electric pole near the hostel gate. On the other, it is anchored to a shop.
Across the wire are three policemen: one standing next to it and two others on either side of him at a little distance. The biker inches closer at snails pace, pulls up and lifts his helmet.
“Kanha Jana hai (Where are you going)?” policeman asks.
“College staff chu office chu gaechun (I am college staff. Have to go to the office),” the biker replies.
“Koet college (Which college)?” policeman asks again.
“Baramulla degree college,” biker replies and policeman frowns: “Baramulla College!”
He points towards the direction where the biker had come from. “Eidgah se jao (Go via Eigah),” he suggests.
“Magar Mujhe Lal chowk Jana hai wanha kanha se jao. Door padta hai (But I have to go to Lal Chowk. How can I go from Eidgah? It is a long distance away,” biker argues.
Policeman now points to right his: “Then go from here.”
The biker looks towards right with a look of disappointment on his face. He looks at his watch tied on the right wrist. It is 7:45 in he morning. Another motorcycle with rider and a pillion on is coming out from the by-lane policeman pointed to.
The biker moves inches towards right and then changes both mind and the lane. With a row of the engine the bike sets on the dilapidated side of the road. And a second or two later he is back at the white armored vehicle.
By now the concertina wire is anchored at both ends of the road. Policemen standing across have increased in number.
He pulls up close to the concertina wire. Three TATA 407 vehicles are standing across it with policemen ordering the drivers to return.
A driver argues: “Aes kapaer gachaewe (Wherefrom shall we go)?” he asks the policeman in a charged up tone.
“Jao ynah se jao. Yanha se band hai (Go away from here. It is closed from here),” intervenes a second policeman standing a little away from the vehicle.
The driver stands his ground. Policemen are enraged.
The second policeman shouts: “Argue kyun karta hai (Why are you arguing)?” that sets the first policeman into action and he starts hitting the vehicle with baton. The diver takes away the vehicle.
The policemen now turn to the biker whose world was reduced between Islamia College and Firdous Cinema.
“Kanha Jana hai (Where are you going)?” they ask him.
His reply unchanged “College staff hai office jana hai (I am college staffer. Have to go to the office).”
Policemen do not look amused and slide the wire rather unpleasantly. “Jao yana se (Go go from this side),” they point towards the Eidgah road.
The biker passes to left, speechless. His pace clearly slower than it was earlier. On the down slope a few men standing at the doors gaze at him. A young man walks past the biker who looks around with curiosity. Nevertheless, the biker moves ahead.
He passes the CRPF bunker at the end of the slope and the fenced wetland, both on his right. In the gloomy weather historic Aali Masjid becomes visible in front of him. A few CRPF men are standing outside the CRPF bunker near the Masjid.
A white Maruti 800 is coming in the opposite direction of the biker in the same lane. The biker does not notice the car or its unusual movement in reverse direction.
Seconds later another concertina is spread across the road, inches away from the bunker, hindering biker's movement. He stops. Looks right, left and then straight. The wire is anchored at both ends, blocking the passage. But there are no policemen across to talk to.
The biker sighs and turns back. He now notices the white Maruti, and perhaps the reason of it, entering into a by-lane on the right side of the road.
A middle aged civilian is moving on the road.
“Yaeth Che haez Beye kaneh waeth Ali Jan roadas paeth gaechenas (Is there any other way to Ali Jan road),” the biker enquires of the civilian.
“Aa. Yapaer gaechive. (Yes. Go from there),” he points towards the same by-lane from which the Maruti just went.
The biker starts again and takes a right turn into the small untidy and under-constructed lane. The Maruti moving ahead of him with a lady at the wheels. The biker follows.
Another Maruti 800 driven by a lady is coming in from the other side of the by-lane as the biker reaches the tip of the by-lane. The Maruti ahead of him takes right so does the biker.
Wide open Eidgah ground is standing in front of him at a little distance which is, but, manned by the CRPF men with concertina wire blocking one side of the Ali Jan road. The Maruti pulls up at the feet of CRPF men.
The biker slows down but does not stop. He moves slowly perhaps waiting for a call from CRPF men which, however did not come. He surpasses the Maruti and the men in uniform, takes left and accelerates till he reaches another CRPF bunker near Safa Kadal where another concertina wire greets him.
CRPF men standing near it are sending back every vehicle. A white car in front of him has been stopped and the driver has been ordered to window. CRPF men are looking into the car.
There are no directions for the biker but out of visible fear he stops behind the car.
“Kya barosa if I leave they may even shoot from behind (What is the guarantee that if I leave they will not shoot me from behind),” he tells this reporter.
The CRPF let go the car and the biker follows into the non-cufewed areas after a much troubled journey on an otherwise 'normal' day.