Our Moon Has Blood Clots: The Exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits
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- Author：Rahul Pandita
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Summary
Rahul Pandita was fourteen years old in 1990 when he was forced to leave his home in Srinagar along with his family， who were Kashmiri Pandits: the Hindu minority within a Muslim majority Kashmir that was becoming increasingly agitated with the cries of ‘Azadi’ from India。 The heartbreaking story of Kashmir has so far been told through the prism of the brutality of the Indian state， and the pro-independence demands of separatists。 But there is another part of the story that has remained unrecorded and buried。 Our Moon Has Blood Clots is the unspoken chapter in the story of Kashmir， in which it was purged of the Kashmiri Pandit community in a violent ethnic cleansing backed by Islamist militants。 Hundreds of people were tortured and killed， and about 3，50，000 Kashmiri Pandits were forced to leave their homes and spend the rest of their lives in exile in their own country。 Rahul Pandita has written a deeply personal， powerful and unforgettable story of history， home and loss。
Reviews
Suresh Nair
，
A heartfelt， moving book giving first hand experience of the author， his family and community's hardships & plights in and exodus from their homeland in Kashmir。 Like many such communities around the world in similar situations its a familiar story。 The major news events make headlines and plays into political games。 But the stories soon get forgotten， buried and the impacted individuals and families are left to pick up their lives and move on。 While some of gruesome true events are enough to sh A heartfelt， moving book giving first hand experience of the author， his family and community's hardships & plights in and exodus from their homeland in Kashmir。 Like many such communities around the world in similar situations its a familiar story。 The major news events make headlines and plays into political games。 But the stories soon get forgotten， buried and the impacted individuals and families are left to pick up their lives and move on。 While some of gruesome true events are enough to shock you to your core， its the impact to daily lives that break your heart。 Losing your home and familiar places， knowing your friends and neighbours turning against you， hope of returning back diminishing every day， loss of traditions and the way of life。 The author's mother Ma is so pained by the losing of the home and her nephew that it breaks her physically and mentally。 And so it is with so many others。 The part in between of author's uncle memories in first person from 1947 partition time could have been a seperate book in itself。 The part that was most touching for me was the author's return to his home years later while someone else owns the house。 Sincerely hope that better wisdom prevails in this world and we all live in peace inspite of whatever differences we have with others。 。。。more
Manisha
，
The very thought that this book is based on true events sends me shivers。
Simnan
，
After being unconsciously indoctrinated by made- up “truths” of people surrounding me， including my parents， this book cleansed a lot of blur from my perceptions。 I feel more liberated after breaking out of that bubble。 I am grateful for your work， Rahul sir & I highly sympathize for people who were made helpless in face of our brutal actions。 It’d be an act of cowardice to ignore our tendencies to inflict oppression on any section of society。 Kashmiris were/are oppressed incomprehensibly but th After being unconsciously indoctrinated by made- up “truths” of people surrounding me， including my parents， this book cleansed a lot of blur from my perceptions。 I feel more liberated after breaking out of that bubble。 I am grateful for your work， Rahul sir & I highly sympathize for people who were made helpless in face of our brutal actions。 It’d be an act of cowardice to ignore our tendencies to inflict oppression on any section of society。 Kashmiris were/are oppressed incomprehensibly but they were also oppressors。 KP’s were only ones who remained “victims” through out the whole game。。。 You suffered a lot more in name of Islam than Kashmiri Muslims did in 20th century。 It would not be wise to weigh the 'amount' of oppression on two sides in order to justify any thing。 There's a lack of justice on both sides。 Kashmiris need to learn to integrate more properly and form a bond filled with humility irrespective of religion – my community， Muslims， need more learning。 Kashmir’s freedom seems to be more of a quest for an islamic territory unfortunately and that scares me as a KASHMIRI for obvious reasons （（for muslims who got triggered – look even if islamic scriptures are full of “justice”， “peace” & whatever you like to label it – most people don't care。 They are not open enough to accept fallacy in the psychological structures they are inhabiting and giving these people power would be a suicide of humanitarian rights。 People need spiritual transformation first。 Scriptures won't do any good by themselves。 ）） Muslims need justice。 They are being oppressed by majority。 Kashmiris are being killed， raped， tortured from past three decades carelessly by cowards disguised under the label of “Saviors” –Indian Army。 We need some damn space。 We need some peace。 We have seen enough。 On the other side， KP’s were oppressed by “majority”。 Killed。 Raped。 Tortured to death & knocked out from doors of their own homes – little did they know they are leaving all things they worked so hard for behind in the mouth of violence， forever。 They deserve to be home。 They， too， have seen enough。 Undermining suffering of any side regardless of which cause you favor is an act of cowardice。 Identity politics causes suffering。 I am not sure what to make out of kashmir’s situation。 It all seems to be a tragedy。 There seems to be no practical solution which wouldn't cause bloodshed on any side because it's hard to integrate with Muslims。 There needs to be less division & more humility。 Hopefully one day， people will wake up from their delusion but strangely enough that feels far from reality。 I don't know why。 I don't need to。 As the wise saying goes 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨。 Thanks。 。。。more
Anushka Shet
，
When I read this book， I had no idea about the plight of Kashmiri pandits and about their exodus。As a student I was mostly exposed to news outlets that hardly ever mentioned about the exodus of pandits。 When issues of Kashmir were discussed I was surrounded by people siding and sympathizing with the separatist movements。 Often I thought they were right， that Kashmiri Muslims were the victims and they suffered at the hands of the Indian government。 But this book gave me a greater insight on the c When I read this book， I had no idea about the plight of Kashmiri pandits and about their exodus。As a student I was mostly exposed to news outlets that hardly ever mentioned about the exodus of pandits。 When issues of Kashmir were discussed I was surrounded by people siding and sympathizing with the separatist movements。 Often I thought they were right， that Kashmiri Muslims were the victims and they suffered at the hands of the Indian government。 But this book gave me a greater insight on the current state of Kashmir。 It is not as black and white as it looks and to come to a conclusion of demanding to free Kashmir or having a plebiscite is rather foolish。 There are many people who think what needs to be done with Kashmir but if you really want to dive deep about the ground realities and to have a broader picture about the small portion of history of Kashmir that is described in this book， from a Kashmiri pandit himself， do read it。 。。。more
Sucheta
，
Touching & beautiful
Pratik
，
Tragedies like genocides and exodus' are reduced to just numbers and can overlook the brutality of these times。 Read this for the vivid first person experience of not just about the exodus of Kashmiri Pandits but also life in Kashmir back in the days。 The bonus part was the part where the writer's uncle told his story of how the tribal raiders from Pakistan invaded Kashmir in 1947 and the story of his life thereafter。 Tragedies like genocides and exodus' are reduced to just numbers and can overlook the brutality of these times。 Read this for the vivid first person experience of not just about the exodus of Kashmiri Pandits but also life in Kashmir back in the days。 The bonus part was the part where the writer's uncle told his story of how the tribal raiders from Pakistan invaded Kashmir in 1947 and the story of his life thereafter。 。。。more
nysa
，
As a Kashmiri Pandit， I’ve long heard of my ancestry and existence in the terms of political conflict。 Now， as I grow older， I’m realizing that I need to learn past the stories my mother can tell me and not let the history die with the exodus。 This was a harrowing and almost hopeful account of a coming-of-age in the time of fear and murder。 The writing and historical context was engaging and informative。 Srinigar， the setting of the book， was a place I heard of plenty of times in my mother’s sto As a Kashmiri Pandit， I’ve long heard of my ancestry and existence in the terms of political conflict。 Now， as I grow older， I’m realizing that I need to learn past the stories my mother can tell me and not let the history die with the exodus。 This was a harrowing and almost hopeful account of a coming-of-age in the time of fear and murder。 The writing and historical context was engaging and informative。 Srinigar， the setting of the book， was a place I heard of plenty of times in my mother’s stories。 I hope she gets to visit again。 。。。more
Gracy
，
After watching Kashmir files I took up the task of reading this book。 Rahul Pandita has done an amazing job when it comes to the first hand narrative of the loss， suffering and pain of those who are “refugees in their own land”。 They were sent to exile in turns， never to return。 Not only land that belonged to them for ages， they had to leave their culture， their lifestyle and at times， even women。 While we might know about what happened to Kashmiri Pandits on and after 19 January 1990， Pandita b After watching Kashmir files I took up the task of reading this book。 Rahul Pandita has done an amazing job when it comes to the first hand narrative of the loss， suffering and pain of those who are “refugees in their own land”。 They were sent to exile in turns， never to return。 Not only land that belonged to them for ages， they had to leave their culture， their lifestyle and at times， even women。 While we might know about what happened to Kashmiri Pandits on and after 19 January 1990， Pandita brings to light the exodus of 1947 where people were driven to Jammu and even farther by the Pathans sent by the government of Pakistan to take control of Kashmir。 This is an important pieces of literature， for it is the starting point of a counter narrative to why Section 377 was needed， of why Kashmir is an integral part of India and for the understanding of how The culture of Kashmir is nothing but mother to all those Rishis and Munis who we Indians consider our ancestors。Must read！ 。。。more
Vedatrayee Chakraborty
，
What to say， what to say？ To say nothing but to weep and weep and weep till the tears stop and the cold wind lulls you to sleep！ Truth is indeed stranger than fiction！ A spell-binding work by Pandita。 One of the most urgent works of non-fiction in India。
Maitreyi Bodake
，
Nerve-watching description of horrific atrocities orchestrated to systematically eliminate an ethnic race from the valley。 I feel ashamed that it took me such a long time to read this factual narrative of a cruelty performed so close to home。I earnestly urge everyone to pick up this harrowing description of reality。
Pradeep N
，
Excellent， Gyaan GurenteedWhat makes this book stand out is the personal loss of the author who navigates the complex timeline of 1990 when Hindu community was targeted and killed。 The gut wrenching episodes narrated by the author re-lives the memory of "the kashmiri files"。 This is a good book if you have come here after watching the blockbuster。 Excellent， Gyaan GurenteedWhat makes this book stand out is the personal loss of the author who navigates the complex timeline of 1990 when Hindu community was targeted and killed。 The gut wrenching episodes narrated by the author re-lives the memory of "the kashmiri files"。 This is a good book if you have come here after watching the blockbuster。 。。。more
Amol Sehgal
，
Gripping。 Engaging。 Sad。 A story worth reading and sharing。 Well written。
Adarsh Mishra
，
Re read this book again with a 2 year gap; just to quote passages， to illustrate the FULL facts to some friends， who are being swayed by a hate-driven film based on factual， horrible events in India's past。this book remains one of the best narratives of the sordid tale， and one has to commend the author for maintaining his humane side despite the unspeakable horrors he or his immediate family had seen first hand 。Filled with graphic details of the events which unfolded up until Jan 1990 with mus Re read this book again with a 2 year gap; just to quote passages， to illustrate the FULL facts to some friends， who are being swayed by a hate-driven film based on factual， horrible events in India's past。this book remains one of the best narratives of the sordid tale， and one has to commend the author for maintaining his humane side despite the unspeakable horrors he or his immediate family had seen first hand 。Filled with graphic details of the events which unfolded up until Jan 1990 with muslim neighbours preying on the pandit families， but also taking into account the never-ending misery of the Kashmiri Pandits and how even the so-called Hindu-bretheren of Jammu shunned and exploited them; the book just makes you wonder what makes people turn on one another so easily？The case of Latif， Ravi， and the author's exchange with his father on Gulbarg society massacre in Gujarat- are events which had stayed with me since my first reading of this book。 This ought to be read in conjunction with The Curfewed Night by Basharat Peer， for people who want to understand a little more of the tragedy which has befallen millions in India， thanks to the sheer apathy of conniving politicians across the political spectrum in India， who have just used （and continue to exploit） the misery 0f the people to fan hatred。 。。。more
Premanand Velu
，
Today Suddenly Kashmiri Pandits are in the crossfire of the National Political battlefield， becoming the subject of Electoral fortunes。 The government and its right-wing propaganda mills have started grinding them suddenly after eight years of doing just cosmetic noises。 Today it is the fodder for ultra nationalist fervour， like many other before it。The Left is also briskly shooting from the hip trying to reduce the issue to a minor statistic detail， to suit its narrative and broad brushing of t Today Suddenly Kashmiri Pandits are in the crossfire of the National Political battlefield， becoming the subject of Electoral fortunes。 The government and its right-wing propaganda mills have started grinding them suddenly after eight years of doing just cosmetic noises。 Today it is the fodder for ultra nationalist fervour， like many other before it。The Left is also briskly shooting from the hip trying to reduce the issue to a minor statistic detail， to suit its narrative and broad brushing of the issue。Between these two sides， the issue， and the plight of the Kashmiri Pandits are being torn like a rag between the mouths of rabid dogs， without any empathy or kindness that it requires。Unfortunately， masses on the either side of the divide， are fed on steroids of social media with little patience to do real reading and informed decisions。。。While the issue is very complex and solution is no where near the horizon， it is important to first listen to the Kashmiri Pandit view of their issue without clouding our eyes with affiliation to either side。 To this end， this book by Rahul Pandita is an important read that narrates the plight of a 14-year boy who is thrown into the cauldron of hate and the whirlwind journey from a Kashmiri Native to refugee in his own country。 What sets it apart is that while it details the human travesty and tragedy that unfolded by years of religious bigotry and hate， it also presents the spirit that refuses to succumb to that hate and offers a hope for redemption for those consumed by the hatred on either side。Initially Rahul starts with the words that establish the identity of the Pandits， which to me sounded like the usual Brahminical entitlement， probably is just his way of explaining their identity from past， that has shaped their thought and path to salvation。 It becomes more clearer as he narrates how Books and Knowledge – transcending religious boundaries - were cherished by many among the Pandit Families。 “The land was abundant with nature’s bounty， but geographically isolated。 Perhaps under the spell of nature’s magnificence， my ancestors took to the pursuit of knowledge。 It is thus that Kashmir became the primeval home of the Brahmins， or Brahmans—those who are conscious。” Pandita registers that the issue of extreme religious hatred against the Hindu Pandits in the valley is much older than or as old as the Indian independence。 Today there is a section of media that tries to reduce this to a sporadic or caste issue which is ridiculous considering how different the society in Kashmir valley was compared to that of the Indian mainland。 The Pandits in that sense， are not even the usual Brahmins of the mainland India who usually profess superiority of lifestyle and food。 The Pandits contrast that stereo type， being open about the food choices like having meat in their regular food that they offer to their god and even receiving them as gifts from their Muslim Neighbours。But the issue of the Pandits is not just from the 90’s。 Their pain is not just even from the hands of the terrorists as the left liberals likes to paint。 Their pain stems from the hatred， duplicity and betrayal which many of their Muslim neighbours dealt them with， every time， from the tribal invasion to the time of insurgency until they were pushed out。 “Mrs Ganju went to a first-floor window to look outside。 There was nobody at the door。 Then she heard noises from one of the rooms below。 The strangers were now trying to break in through a window。 She urged her husband to hide in the attic， in a drum partially filled with rice。 By that time， the two men had entered the house。 One of them was carrying a rifle and the other a pistol。 Pushing Mrs Ganju aside， they searched all the rooms and， unable to find her husband， they left。 In old Srinagar， houses are built quite close to each other。 One of the Muslim women in Ganju’s neighbourhood had seen him hiding in the drum。 As the men came out， she signalled to them， telling them what she had seen。 The men returned and went directly to the attic and shot B。K。 Ganju dead inside that drum。”。。。“After the civil administration authorities arrived， the people from the village started pouring in。 Vinod remembers the exact words he uttered to the officer in charge upon spotting his Muslim neighbours。 ‘I told him: “In mein se koi haraami inhe haath nahi lagayega。” None of these bastards will touch the bodies。’I remember some of the reports I had read of the massacre。 One report described how Muslim women were seen wailing over the dead bodies of Vinod’s family members and others。 ‘I will tell you something，’ Vinod says， ‘when the gun shots were being fired， the people of the village increased the volume of the loudspeaker in the mosque to muffle the sound of the gunfire。’ Nobody came out of their homes the whole night。 They only came out later， after daylight had broken。 ‘They wanted to shed magarmacch ke aansu—crocodile tears，’ says Vinod。” Again， while the left and right are shadow boxing on the issue of political correctness and to pin who let the Pandits down on the fateful days， it is important to listen what they think - coming from the heat of the moment - irrespective of the side， left or right one subscribes to。 “One of the scapegoats chosen for this untruth was the former governor of the state， Jagmohan。 ‘The Pandits were encouraged by Jagmohan to leave so that he could deal with us firmly。’ One kept hearing this。 Initially， I didn’t care。 But now I seethe with anger whenever I come across this propaganda。 I have become determined—to paraphrase Agha Shahid Ali—that my memory must come in the way of this untrue history。”“Jagmohan had been sent by New Delhi to take charge as the governor of Jammu and Kashmir。 On the afternoon of January 19， he had boarded a BSF plane that had brought him to Jammu。 While being driven to the Raj Bhavan， he saw people lining up on both sides of the road to greet him。 Jagmohan was a very popular administrator and， during a previous stint in 1986 as the governor of the state， he had won the hearts of the people by undertaking large-scale reforms。”“That night in Jammu’s Raj Bhavan， the phone began to ring from 10 p。m。 onwards。 ‘They are coming to kill us，’ a scared Pandit from somewhere in the Valley whispered to him。 ‘Please ask the army to help us，’ begged another。 But that night， Jagmohan was not in a position to help them at all。 The administration， he knew， had collapsed completely。 Some sections of the police were sympathetic to militant groups。 No one was in charge。 And as usual， in New Delhi， the babus in the government had no idea what was happening。”While Jagmohan is absolved， clearly， the powers at Delhi were not。On nature of the religious persecution， he paints a parallel with that of the Jewish holocaust and other holocausts which is how many of the Pandits see this， perhaps just fully so。 “Father and I got out of the taxi to stretch our legs。 In one of the trucks， a woman lifted the tarpaulin sheet covering the back and peered outside。 There was nothing peculiar about her except the blankness in her eyes。 They were like a void that sucked you in。 Years later， I saw a picture of a Jewish prisoner in Auschwitz。 When I saw his eyes， my mind was immediately transported to that day， and I was reminded of the look in that woman’s eyes。”“A special programme on the ‘ethnic revolt’ in Azerbaijan was being telecast。 Only a week earlier， in the Azerbaijani capital of Baku， a massive crowd demanding independence from Soviet Russia had attacked the Christian Armenian community， killing hundreds in a bloodied frenzy， and looting their homes and business establishments。 And oblivious to New Delhi， a similar episode was about to occur in Kashmir。 Only the gods could save the Pandits now。” However， he quickly dispels the painting of pan Indian Hindu cause when he points out how the fellow Hindus， outside the valley， including their Dogra Neighbours in Jammu and elsewhere abuse and exploit them。 From calling them with derogatory intonation as “Kashmiri Loley” to exploiting them monetarily and murdering them， fellow religious followers had a sobering effect on him to ignore the bogus cause。 “For them， we were outsiders。 Within months， invectives had been invented for us。 The most popular among them was: Haath mein Kangri munh mein chholey Kahan se aayey Kashmiri loley Kangri in hands， chickpeas in their mouth From where did these Kashmiri flaccid penises come？”“While going for a school picnic， the boy felt like buying a packet of potato chips and a soft drink to supplement the food his mother had cooked for him。 He had no money， so he borrowed twenty rupees from a ruffian on his street， promising to return the money along with an interest of ten rupees。 But days later， he was unable to repay the money。 Out of fear， he never shared his predicament with his family。 The ruffian kept threatening him。 One day， the boy stepped out of his house to play with his friends when the ruffian caught hold of him。 He was carrying a screwdriver with which he stabbed the boy in the abdomen。 The boy tried to run away and even begged a shopkeeper for help。 But nobody came forward to help him。 He died on the steps of the shop he had bought the packet of chips and soft drink from。”“This was mainstream India for us。 Our own Hindu brothers and sisters who took out a procession every Basant Panchami to safeguard Hindu rights were turning into our oppressors as well。”The fact is， this is state of refugees across the world and so refugees， across the ethnic and religious divide， share one class and identity。 I have seen same with Srilankan Tamil Refugees being exploited in TN by their fellow Tamils without any scruples or compassion， even while Eelam cause is always an emotive issue for Tamils and a major political plank。 “We would get a copy of the Daily Excelsior every day at the hotel。 After he had gone through it， Madan Lal would let me read it。 I noticed that far too many obituaries of old people had begun to appear in the newspaper。 The harsh summer and the agony of homelessness were taking a heavy toll。” Strangely， this is another shared feeling with every refugee group。 I have seen this expressed by many from the Tamil diaspora write the same exact lines。The defining moment when some one must choose between hate or humanity， eventually came to Rahul one day。 “‘We are from the RSS。 The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh。 We will give direction to your anger，’ he said。 ‘Come， let’s go join the others，’ he continued， looking at the other men。 We went and stood in front of the saffron flag。 ‘Put your hand on your chest，’ the man said。 I had seen them doing this earlier。 So I did it exactly as they did。 And he made me recite a mantra。 ‘Come here every day，’ he said。 ‘We meet here every day。 We will teach you many things and make a man out of you。 A man who is willing to fight for his rights， not only for himself but for his entire community。 We are Hindus after all。 Have you heard of Parshuram？’ he asked。”“‘There you are，’ Father said the moment he spotted me。 ‘Kot osuk gaeb gomut？’ he asked。 Where had you disappeared？ That was my father’s favourite phrase when he was mildly angry。 I ignored it and began animatedly telling him about my encounter。 I was so excited that I did not see his expression change。‘Listen， you fool！’ My father tried suppressing his anger， but the tone of his voice hit me like a slap。 ‘We are not here to fight but to make sure that you go to school and get your education。 You don’t need to worry about anything else。 Where we live， what we eat， where the money will come from—none of it is your concern。 You just concentrate on your studies。 And， yes， tomorrow we are admitting you into a school。 ‘And don’t you dare meet those men ever again，’ he hissed。” On hindsight that was the choice that enabled him to embrace Humanity， instead of carrying the lifelong baggage of hate。 And many years later Rahul interaction with a right wing， retired defence personality， which he narrates， is the message that needs to be remembered。 “Something that enabled me to calmly face an uproariously drunk army general one night in a television news studio。 We were there to debate human rights violations in Kashmir and I pointed out that there needs to be zero tolerance towards such crimes。 ‘How can you say that？’ he barked。 ‘It is they who have forced you out of your homes， turning you into refugees。’ I looked him in the eye and said: ‘General， I’ve lost my home， not my humanity。’ ” 。。。more
Virag Padalkar
，
A haunting tale of grief and loss。 A tragic story told simply， beautifully。 Deeply personal and at the same time encompasses the canvas of the region。 A must read。
Pratikhya Patnaik
，
I read this book a couple of years back and it still haunts me。 The fear of being driven out of your homes and left helpless is something that most of us have never experienced。 This book will show you the harsh reality of people who have lived through this fear。In the early 1990s， thousands of Kashmiri Pandits had to flee Kashmir。 This mass migration came to be known as the Exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits。 Thousands of people were tortured and killed。 Houses were burnt。 Families were separated。 I read this book a couple of years back and it still haunts me。 The fear of being driven out of your homes and left helpless is something that most of us have never experienced。 This book will show you the harsh reality of people who have lived through this fear。In the early 1990s， thousands of Kashmiri Pandits had to flee Kashmir。 This mass migration came to be known as the Exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits。 Thousands of people were tortured and killed。 Houses were burnt。 Families were separated。 The fate of hundreds of people changed in the matter of a few days。 The reason behind this insurgence is believed to be the discontent brewing within the Muslim communities against the Indian Government。 Dirty politics made the situation worse。This book tells the story of one such family who had to leave behind a happy and comfortable life in the beautiful Kashmir valleys and move to places where they were tagged as refugees。 The struggle of accepting such a horrible punishment for no fault whatsoever will move you to tears。 I will explain one incident mentioned in the book that affected me the most。（Note – The story is narrated from a young boy’s perspective）After the family flees from Kashmir， they had to live in different places depending on availability and cost。 At one such place， a neighbor comes to their house asking if they were the refugees and then offers them food。 After he leaves， the boy’s mother removes the newspaper covering the food and sees roti， dal and pumpkin curry。 A woman who once had huge orchards and a large table full of delicacies is unable to digest this new reality and loses her mental strength。 She starts weeping。 She then says something that she will repeat for the rest of her life，‘You know， our house in Kashmir had 22 rooms。’ Today the whole country is moved by the movie ‘The Kashmir Files’ but I wish people knew that a lot more has been said about this horrific incident in many books。 。。。more
Veda
，
I am at a loss for words。 I read 90% of this book before watching 'The Kashmir Files'， and read the last few pages after watching the movie。To say that it's been an eye-opener wouldn't be enough， and yet I don't know what else to say。 I can't help thinking over and over again， 'how did I not know this' 'how did I not know this' 'how was I so ignorant of what happened'！！！！！！！！！As someone who has been and is a part of the left ecosystem， this book and the movie opened my eyes towards my own ignora I am at a loss for words。 I read 90% of this book before watching 'The Kashmir Files'， and read the last few pages after watching the movie。To say that it's been an eye-opener wouldn't be enough， and yet I don't know what else to say。 I can't help thinking over and over again， 'how did I not know this' 'how did I not know this' 'how was I so ignorant of what happened'！！！！！！！！！As someone who has been and is a part of the left ecosystem， this book and the movie opened my eyes towards my own ignorance and my hypocrisy。 All I can think of is how did I not even think of listening to these folks， their voices， all this while。 How was I so caught up in the propaganda and the false narratives， that I didn't really bother about an entire community and the horrors they were subjected to。 That Hindus have gone through this exodus and genocide in a Hindu majority nation and that quite a few of us weren't aware of what the Kashmiri Pandits have gone through， is making me question a lot about what the left stands for and what exactly I have been consuming in the name of social justice and equity。 While I did start listening to the voices leaning towards the right for some time now， this book and the movie have confirmed that it's high time I need to start taking these voices seriously， else there's no point to the values I stand for and the work I do and intend to do。As someone who has been in the social sector for almost a decade， I am wondering how far reaching the affects of my biases and beliefs so far have been。Writing this review with a lot of regret and guilt about my silence and my biases that didn't let me take notice of the Kashmiri Pandits' plight 😓 。。。more
Utkarsha Singh
，
The world sympathizes with the Jews， why？ Because they told their story， their pain and suffering was felt across the globe and emerged in the form of disgust and hatred towards the perpetrators of the Holocaust。 What if all the Jews were mum， if journalists blamed them for their own genocide， what if the world forgot their pain？ "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting"This is the story of the Kashmiri pandits。 A Hindu community having their roots in the N The world sympathizes with the Jews， why？ Because they told their story， their pain and suffering was felt across the globe and emerged in the form of disgust and hatred towards the perpetrators of the Holocaust。 What if all the Jews were mum， if journalists blamed them for their own genocide， what if the world forgot their pain？ "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting"This is the story of the Kashmiri pandits。 A Hindu community having their roots in the Northern part of India， in a union territory called Kashmir。 Driven away from their ancestral homes to refugee settlements in India， this is the story of a forgotten people。 Their memories are misted over by political correctness and diplomacy。 But despite the apparent haze， the memories of being shot， raped， and tortured by their own neighbours and friends is hard to suppress。This is a gut-wrenching tale on the genocide and exodus of Hindus from Kashmir and the dirty politics surrounding it。 It has been more than 30 years since the pandits were tortured into leaving their homes。 But the murder continues， the last ones to die are the ancient traditions of the Kashmiri pandits and the Sharada script， the last martyrs of the genocide。Every Indian should read this book， but it is a must read for all Hindus。 Read， and feel sorry that such torture has been swiped under the carpet for so long。 。。。more
Sarita
，
Reading the initial pages of the book- beginning with the dead old man， people residing in the refugee camps， breathing a painful life。 Oh！！ Just imagine， how would you feel if there was a time when you used to play cricket with your tomatoes as ball and now you are standing on a line outside a refugee camp only to get half a tomato in your hand， and you are not sure of it- you might end up getting nothing as there are more hands and mouths to feed than tomatoes existing。 I ended up uttering- Aa Reading the initial pages of the book- beginning with the dead old man， people residing in the refugee camps， breathing a painful life。 Oh！！ Just imagine， how would you feel if there was a time when you used to play cricket with your tomatoes as ball and now you are standing on a line outside a refugee camp only to get half a tomato in your hand， and you are not sure of it- you might end up getting nothing as there are more hands and mouths to feed than tomatoes existing。 I ended up uttering- Aaahh！！！ How are you feeling about it？Forced Migration is excruciating。 Siberian birds migrating to Bharatpur is by choice， but one being forced to migrate to live in permanent exile is a pain in heart for a lifetime。 And its is the same pain- what Kashmiri pandits have gone through。 This slogan- Hum kya chaaaahte—Azadiiiii！ Oh！！ I never comprehend this Azadi， Azadi， Azadi ！！ Azadi from whom and azadi by what means？？ Is it Azadi from humanity and azadi by killing and destroying humanity？？？ let me decipher this Azadi-Its not the murder and death of hindus and muslims， its not- it’s the death of those sweet little innocent barn swallows and their nests that are murdered。 In the name of Azadi， burning in the fire of revenge， Islam killing infidels， Pandits killing muslims- we lose not only our homes， we lose our humanity。It’s letting that child homeless and in despair who want to watch childhood adventures in television。It’s a blow to the emotions of a Mother who had spent her lifetime in her sweet home and suddenly turned out to be a refugee。 A refugee who ended up living in the memory of her land for the rest of her life repeating- our home in Kashmir had twenty-two rooms。It’s breathing every moment in uncertainity， uncertainity of where to go， how to find a home， what to eat， - will there be a sunshine next day？It’s the murder of a mother who keeps on wailing over her son’s death， and still keeps on cooking food in his memory。Azadi is witnessing your near and dear ones shooted in an encounter。 Its nailing the mid of eyebrows to remind you- its crime to apply tilak。 It is raping a woman turn by turn barbarically。 Azadi is when a father carries his son’s dead body on his back。It’s killing of mother cow and forcing others to eat calf。It's cremating one’s dragged dead body in one’s own loving home。It’s losing your brother， your hero， your family and wail in agony。It’s being a refugee in your own country。It’s murder of memories- that one has cherished in one’s homeland。It’s letting a child’s childhood in misery。It’s a forced conversion to Islam。It’s losing one’s hope to well being， its constant living in fear of savages。It’s snatching a child’s family for his entire life， for making him homeless， insecure forever。It’s standing in a que and beg for alms。It’s turning Kashmir into Pakistan， without the Pandit men， but with their women。Its losing one’s identity behind every day。 It’s losing one’s freedom to wear a bindi， losing one’s faith， losing oneselfIt’s breathing in exile forever！！This is Azadi！！And when this Azadi is achieved， Kashmir becomes a memory - a hanging calendar in the walls of those who once breathed and lived in its beauty。The beauty is lost forever！！I find it very difficult to gather my thoughts after reading this。 It has touched me in several ways。An incident where the author could no longer recall his mother’s voice。 Ma’s- favourite line- Our home in Kashmir had twenty-two rooms- it reminds how much she would have missed her home back in Kashmir during her life。 One’s home in one’s motherland is so deeply deeply personal。It reminds me of a conversation between me and my friend where he mentions me of a book “A House for Mr。 Biswas by V。S。 Naipaul- saying this book makes him understand how much building a home would have meant to his father and mother。 Even， sometimes I wonder why my father and mother is so deeply attached and cared for the home we live in， like really， deep inside- the maintenance they do， the love and care they have for our home is so full of commitment and dedication。 I often try to argue myself why they are so attached to this but after going through this book- it makes me realize what it means to make a home。 It means a lot and lot。 Not leaving one’s home even when the terror of death is near anytime soon clearly justifies what it means。 We actually dream of making our homes， those dreams， those striving for days and nights and finally making one’s dream come true- it means a lot and lot。 And one day， suddenly， you are simply outcasted from your own ancestral house。 Your birth land， your belongings， your home is no longer yours。 You are an outsider in your own home。 How deeply excruciating。In this fight in the name of religion， the severe pain is borne by ordinary humans and their generations。 We never feel the emotion and distress one feels when one is forced to evacuate one’s homeland。 The sweet and bitter memories of the place lives with one forever。 I have never been to Kashmir but heard of its beauty in books and movies。 Kashmir is Jahangir’s last wish。 Kashmir is God’s abode， even God is jealous of its beauty。 May be Kashmir is immensely beautiful but the terror and religious persecution existing since ages is enough to bring fear in the minds of the one who even wants to visit that place。 Kashmiri pandits vs Islams is like India vs Pakistan。 Nothing is spared in this communal war。 Even a page bearing a photo of Goddess Saraswati is despised and torn apart in the name of religion。 You breathe the same air but you can’t withstand the other。 You are born in the same soil but fed with superiority of one with the other。 Even children’s minds are not spared。 Wearing a janeu is a symbol of weakness and you are afraid that you will be overpowered by your opponent simply by the fact that you are Kashmiri pandit and you have no right to follow your faith fearlessly。But the truth is minorities are always mistreated and overpowered， no matter which corner of the world。 Blind Power of majority never understands the role of ants and worms， always considering them small and invisible， but they hardly can fathom their importance in the existence。Riots， rapes， breaking down homes， killings- all bring enormous loss， only in the name of religion and a result of political agenda。 And I guess， these communal riots are flourishing since british rule。 British divide and rule policy is ruling our minds even today。 Hindu-Muslim riots， Anti-sikh riots and so many riots in the name of religion。 I so remember， 2 years back- of delhi riots， when I was there in delhi。 The loss， the pain of common people- its they who suffer and no one else。 And these common people are simply innocent ones。 They have nothing to do with religion- hindu- muslim -sikh-christian or whatever else。 They only want to live their lives without leaving any mark behind。 They are the ones who are targeted and suffer immensely， their voices are always unheard and unnoticed。 Riots only leave behind harsh memories in the minds of children。 How broken a child would have felt to witness his superman hanuman broken into pieces。 A child doesn’t even understand the religion divide but then is witnessing the same。I felt quite ashamed when I read about the treatment given to Smt。 Indira Gandhi’s visit to Iqbal park with men waving their genitals at her。 Its beyond my imagination that this is our men， this is all of us。 This book is so much of sweet memories。 Sweet memories of a family。 Of a child， who is getting conscious of his identity as a Kashmiri pandit day by day。 Of a father- who is missing his Shahar in Srinagar， Of a mother- who never gets tired of saying- Our home in Kashmir had twenty-two rooms， Of totha who always surprises Rahul pandita， of a family who has lost their ancestral home in the name of riot and religion and is living a life in exile forever with the memories that is sustaining them day by day。 Reading it has made me feel empathetic， sometimes I was laughing at the innocence of a child who simply went to bush to find lumps of sugar when came to know that his uncle has diabetes in his urine。 A story of little little moments of watching TV， fixing antennas， having lipton tea， laughing with friends， family， boarding a bus， listening to rafi songs， being a fan of devanand and what not which I and you can mention。 Of watching cricket matches， getting excited with India winning the match- I guess- we can even bet our life on the match of India-Pakistan。 In the name of India-Pakistan- we don’t spare anyone。 The mistreatment of Indian cricket team on the grounds of jammu and Kashmir during international cricket match clearly says it all。 The celebration in Kashmir when Pakistan wins a match and passing distressful comments against Indians- I don’t really understand what they get out of these futile celebrations。 Communal hatred is so deeply rooted。 This junoon- I have never witnessed when the match of India-England goes on- the very English people who led to our divide which we are suffering even today and don’t know for how long we would suffer。 I so wish India-Pakistan to become one and this Hindu-Musalaman just vanish away from our minds。 Whenever， I think of Pakistan to merge with India and become Bharat- I think of Atal Bihari Vajpayee- of his conversation with a Pakistani journalist asking from her Pakistan in dowry。 That is something which has meant me believe that Pakistan and india can actually become one。This arms-training of youth for launching jihad against India- how this would have been and how these children are being trained- trained not of love and humanity but of hatred and violence。 1990 incident， specific targeting of pandits in the name of azadi， piercing skull of a pandit with an iron skull and dragging him and nailing him into a tree; shooting an innocent person right on the spot- its so dreadful， dreadful even to imagine and these pandits have actually gone through that。A story of a family， of an ordinary family whose world is- their home and children。 I felt the pain of exile reading this one and you also will feel。 The pain of living in fear on a daily basis， where one breathes in fear of being targeted， unpredictable of search operations conducted by armies on pandits for the entire day for whatsoever reason。 The incident of muslims ill-treating pandits， looking down at them， taunting them， its like- Kashmir belongs to Islam and Islam wants Azadi。， azadi from Kashmiri pandits， azadi from humanity breathing inside， embracing violence and hatred。 It’s like Pain demands to be felt， if not be experience atleast by reading other’s life experience。 A story of living in fear of death。 All those fears， memories flashing back at the time of death。 I really wonder sometimes， what and how am I going to feel at the time of death。 A story that tells you the uncertainity of your breath， although， here the uncertainity lies only for the pandits。Reading it makes me understand how crucial it is for child of tender age to share their whereabouts and what’s going on in their minds to their parents or else any step taken in ignorance can be fatal for the lifetime。 How author who encountered with RSS men forming to take revenge from Muslims would have taken a turn in author’s life had he not shared the incident with his father。 Kashmir has always been a land of beauty but its beauty has not been adored。 Tribes invasion in 1947 by the kazakhs is only one such story。An extract-"We have been in exile for more than two decades。 Kashmir is a memory， an overdose of nostalgia。 But beyond this， there is nothing。 Many among us have moved on。 For most of us， Kashmir means a calendar hanging in our parents’ bedroom， or a mutton dish cooked in the traditional way on Shivratri， or a cousin’s marriage that the elders insist must be solemnized in Jammu。"And after the azadi- which author has got， one day， one fine day， after decades- he gathers the courage to revisit his land， his home only to place it in his memory！！A must read- for all of us to let the humanity in us shine and not be divided by this divide and rule！！ 。。。more
Niti Pandey
，
"For me though， exile is permanent。 Homelessness is permanent。 I am uprooted in my mind。 There is nothing I can do about it。。。I have no home， only images。 And in those closets in my bedroom， I could only conjure up images of home。 And now， that too is gone。"This book is distressing and deeply traumatic。 To think that the Kashmiri Pandits were subjected to such unwarranted brutality and hatred， and forced out of their homes; to think that they still haven't been able to return， makes me mad with "For me though， exile is permanent。 Homelessness is permanent。 I am uprooted in my mind。 There is nothing I can do about it。。。I have no home， only images。 And in those closets in my bedroom， I could only conjure up images of home。 And now， that too is gone。"This book is distressing and deeply traumatic。 To think that the Kashmiri Pandits were subjected to such unwarranted brutality and hatred， and forced out of their homes; to think that they still haven't been able to return， makes me mad with rage。 What was the government doing back then？ What is the government doing now？ Where are the activists who talk about minority rights ad infinitum？ Where are the self proclaimed paragons of social justice and equality？ "Over the years， the narrative of what led to the exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits from the Valley has been changed。 A series of untruths have been spoken so many times that they have almost become the truth。。。Another problem is the apathy of the media and a majority of India's intellectual class who refuse to even acknowledge the suffering of the Pandits。 No campaigns were ever run for us。。。It has become unfashionable to speak about us， or raise the issue of our exodus。" Rahul uses the word 'exodus' when he talks about the event that resulted in the death of hundreds of Pandits at the hands of Islamic militants。 I wish to differ。 It was a genocide。 A genocide that isn't talked about enough because it makes people uncomfortable。 Or should I say Islamic apologists？ It isn't addressed because it does not suit the agenda of those who wish to sweep every single Islamic atrocity right under the rug。 The entire episode is conveniently forgotten because human rights do not matter when it is the Hindus who are suffering。 The only people who remember and fight for the cause are the Pandits who were condemned to live as refugees in their own nation。I am angry because I am helpless。 Because I feel myself unable to do anything to help them get back their homes。 Because I am disappointed in myself， in the people， and in the State for having failed to demand justice for the Pandits。 Indians have a weird sense of morality—they will talk about Palestinians， Rohingyas， Afghans， and Uighurs but they will never talk about what has happened to Kashmiri Pandits。 Finest example of 'secularism' that our country is obsessed with。 As aforementioned， this book is replete with incidents of violence and trauma。 I had a hard time reading some of them and I can only imagine what the author went through while writing the book。 Having to revisit the horrors of the past that no one wants to accept， and to always be burdened with the associated memories must be an ordeal for him。 I am sharing some excerpts from the book that I highlighted while reading。 These might be triggering， so if you are reading my review， please tread with caution。"He （Sheikh Abdullah） would tell Pandits: Raliv， Chaliv， ya Galiv。（ Be one among us， flee， or be decimated。）""It was a page torn from the school magazine—it was the portrait of the goddess Saraswati。 It was covered with snot too。""Yahan kya chalega， Nizam-e-MustafaLa sharqiya， la garbiya， Islamia， IslamiaZalazala aaya hain kufr ke maidaan meinLo Mujahid aa gaye maidaan mein""Throughout 1990s， Pandits are picked up selectively and put to death。 They are killed because Kashmir needs to be cleansed of them。 And if the one chosen is not to be found， a proxy suffices。 It is all about numbers。 It is all about how many are killed。 It is known that if one among us is killed， a thousand will flee。""It was the sound of the mosque's loudspeaker。。。 'Naara-e-taqbeer， Allah ho Akbar！'""In Srinagar， they would deliberately cut off electricity at the telecast time of Ramayan， and then later Mahabharat。""The police found their bodies hanging from a tree a day later。 The men had hammered nails between their eyebrows， where the tilak is applied。 Their limbs were broken and their bodies ravaged with cigarette burns。 They had been shot as well。""Four men had taken turns to rape her in a moving taxi。。。In a final act of barbarism， they took her to a wood processing unit and cut her alive on a mechanical saw。""The men among the Sikhs were segregated， shot and then pushed into the river。 The women were bundled into buses and taken away。 In some cases， children were snatched from their arms and thrown on the road。""We were the punching bags。 But we assimilated noiselessly， and whenever one of us became a victim of selective targeting， the rest of us would lie low， hoping for things to normalize。""We have been in exile for more than two decades。 Kashmir is a memory， an overdose of nostalgia。 But beyond this， there is nothing。 Many among us have moved on。"This book has been eye opening in a lot of ways。 I keep rereading the passages that I've highlighted。 I keep thinking that this was allowed to happen。 That nothing was done to prevent the slaughter of innocents。 I keep thinking about how many lives were lost， how many homes were destroyed， how many people were eternally scarred。 Above all， I keep thinking about the trust that was broken。 That will perhaps always be broken—in the people who aided the genocide， in the people who still won't support the victims， and in the government that has time and again let down the Pandits。 。。。more
Dhaval Ahir
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There are many books that can make you laugh or can make you cry。 But there are very few books that stab your heart， make you feel the pain that someone unknown to you felt decades ago， make you question your belief in humanity， and leave a void in you。 These are stories that are not easy to tell， but they need to be told。 And one such story is 'Our Moon Has Blood Clots'。 Not only does it dive deep into the story of Kashmiri Pandits and their exodus， but it also transfers you to the house where There are many books that can make you laugh or can make you cry。 But there are very few books that stab your heart， make you feel the pain that someone unknown to you felt decades ago， make you question your belief in humanity， and leave a void in you。 These are stories that are not easy to tell， but they need to be told。 And one such story is 'Our Moon Has Blood Clots'。 Not only does it dive deep into the story of Kashmiri Pandits and their exodus， but it also transfers you to the house where the Pandits are hiding from the Pathans， the streets of Lal Chowk and 'Shahar'， the refugee camps in Jammu， and you can feel the heartbreaking events unfold in front you。 Surely a must-read！ 。。。more
Shubhra Srishti
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It took me a while to finish this one due to some personal engagements。 But this book is a must read and an eye opener。 It made my eyes teary and boiled my blood at the same time。 It's an account of the atrocities and torture commited on kashmiri pandits。 How they were killed， tortured， women were raped and the entire population was made to flee the valley just because they were "hindus"。 How the majority population of the valley helped the mujahids to kill， torture and torment the pandits。Still It took me a while to finish this one due to some personal engagements。 But this book is a must read and an eye opener。 It made my eyes teary and boiled my blood at the same time。 It's an account of the atrocities and torture commited on kashmiri pandits。 How they were killed， tortured， women were raped and the entire population was made to flee the valley just because they were "hindus"。 How the majority population of the valley helped the mujahids to kill， torture and torment the pandits。Still no pandit became terrorist or raised arms。 Slap on the face of those who say that the majority in this country is always the oppressor and not the oppresed。 How congress handled this situation is a shame in itself。 It's a reminder that we should be vigilant of our rights and never ever let anyone shame us on our religious identity in the name of "secularism"。 。。。more
Sanjana Dey
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I was so unaware of something so painful！！
Penny
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This book is a must read for everyone no matter where they live in this world。 If you're a human， your heart will ache after reading this book。 I've lived in J&K half my life and even I didn't know these incidents clearly。 I can't even imagine others to know about them either。 What these people have endured is beyond imagination and we can only guess how painful it must've been。 We take our freedom for granted but from now onwards， I'm gonna cherish my life。 As far as the writing is concerned， I This book is a must read for everyone no matter where they live in this world。 If you're a human， your heart will ache after reading this book。 I've lived in J&K half my life and even I didn't know these incidents clearly。 I can't even imagine others to know about them either。 What these people have endured is beyond imagination and we can only guess how painful it must've been。 We take our freedom for granted but from now onwards， I'm gonna cherish my life。 As far as the writing is concerned， I'd say it's a very engaging format。 The writer has done a wonderful job in capturing the emotion。 Also because he saw all of this himself。 You can read through the pain and suffering。 I'd recommend this book to everyone who reads books。 If we condemn the holocaust， we need to read about this as well。 Highly recommended！ 。。。more
Justin Schulberg
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A compelling book about the exodus of the Pandit community from Kashmir in 1990 and 1947。 I found the Uncle's telling of his family's exodus from Kashmir in 1947 the most compelling part of the book。 It's a shame to see the lack of support that exists， to this day， for the Kashmiri Pandit community in India。 Overall， a good read and great way to learn about what their community went through。 A compelling book about the exodus of the Pandit community from Kashmir in 1990 and 1947。 I found the Uncle's telling of his family's exodus from Kashmir in 1947 the most compelling part of the book。 It's a shame to see the lack of support that exists， to this day， for the Kashmiri Pandit community in India。 Overall， a good read and great way to learn about what their community went through。 。。。more
Brian Ferrow
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Terribly sad crises beautifully narrated。
Kushan Shah
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It is impossible to not be touched by the plight and longing for home of the Kashmiri Pandits。 The author does a great job of shedding more light on their trauma and their everyday struggles along with informing the reader about the recent history of the region。 One can only hope and pray for a day when the dreams of the Kashmiri Pandits of peace and home materializes。
Malvika Chaudhary
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Picked this book as I wanted to learn more about the plight of Kashmiri pandits but this book turned out to be a lot more than that。 The narration of losing ones home and visiting it again after years fills you with an unexplained sadness。 Losing ones family， house could easily fill one with immense sense of revenge， yet the author talks about how he had lost his house and not his humanity。 A book you can’t put down！
Himanshu Dhiman
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So many lessons to hold on to from this memoir by Rahul Pandita！ As you read through， you shudder as you come across unimaginable incidents - people losing their families， homes and lives at the hands of the people they shared a land with but not faith， and then， as refugees， dealing with the apathy and antipathy shown by the natives of a new city who do share the faith。 ‘Our home in Kashmir had twenty-two rooms’ - this serves as a constant reminder of what the loss of their home can do to someo So many lessons to hold on to from this memoir by Rahul Pandita！ As you read through， you shudder as you come across unimaginable incidents - people losing their families， homes and lives at the hands of the people they shared a land with but not faith， and then， as refugees， dealing with the apathy and antipathy shown by the natives of a new city who do share the faith。 ‘Our home in Kashmir had twenty-two rooms’ - this serves as a constant reminder of what the loss of their home can do to someone。 Such stories fill you with indignation but also humility and gratitude， and you can only hope that no one has to go through anything like this！ 。。。more
Vidushi Singh
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