"Until Lions write their own history, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the Hunter" - goes an African proverb which sort of underlines the reason why The DC (The Darjeeling Chronicle) had to be formed.
Right from the time when the 1st violent Gorkhaland andolan started in 1984 till today, we are yet to find a voice in the main stream media which has reported objectively on the Gorkhaland statehood demand. We are yet to come across a book written by an outsider, which has done justice to our plight, struggle and the oppression and discrimination that we have had to face and are facing. Hence we formed The DC to tell our own tales... to record our own version of the Darjeeling story.
Every time the police beat up and even shot dead Gorkhaland supporters the newspapers reported - "Secessionists clash with police - Police retaliate" always making it sound like we were the aggressors. Everytime CPI(M) sponsored ultra-right wing groups like Bangla O Bangla Bhasa Bachao Samity, Jan Chetna Mancha, Jan Jagaran Mancha and so on fermented trouble and beat up those demanding Gorkhaland, including the women and children the newspapers reported - "Gorkhaland agitators clash with Locals" always making it sound like we were the outsiders clashing with locals.
We never got our side of the story told.
So to undo these many years of misleading reporting, we are starting a special series on Gorkhaland Andolan, which will allow people to tell their own tale. Each village, each town, each galli in Darjeeling hills has lived a horror and intend to document that. So that may our posterity know what their ancestors have sacrificed for them.
This endeavor is our humble attempt at recording the "living history" of our region, so that the world can see how our people were treated and continue to be treated even today...
We request all our readers to kindly share these stories as much as possible... so that the rest of India know... how the Gorkhas were and are treated in our own land. We are producing these stories in both English and Nepali so that anyone who wants to can read it. Please show it to your parents and grand parents and asked them how was it for them to live in that era.
Also if any of you want to share your story from the Gorkhaland andolan days, please feel free to send it to us, or send us your contact details, we will get in touch with you to record your story.
Here we present out 1st story - Written by someone who lived the horror and survived to tell the tale.
......................................
Flashback - 1986 - Part one
By: Gyanendra Yakso Subba Translation: The DC team
From 1984 to 1988 the Darjeeling Hills were embroiled in Gorkhaland Andolan, it has left very many unforgettable memories that are etched so deep in my psyche that even if I want to, I am unable to forget them. I was only 3 or 4 years old, yet the memories are still as fresh as if they happened yesterday.
In a series of post, I will share my story and my experiences from that era.
Place: Lama Gaon, Bijanbari, Darjeeling
The Gorkhaland andolan had quieted down a bit, when one night out of the blue there was a CRPF Raid in our village. It must have been around 2:30 in the morning. I was 5 years old. Baba was not home that night.
The CRPF jawans surrounded our house and demanded that we open the door. It was only Ama, my elder sisters and us youngsters at home. From the door the knock got insistently louder and so did the voice telling us “OPEN THE DOOR IMMEDIATELY”
Without paying any heed to the knock, Ama wrapped my younger brother (who has now joined the Indian Army) around her back with Barki (shawl) and opened the back window with the intention of jumping out and running away. That is what everyone did back then, getting caught meant getting tortured and possibly killed. We were all right behind Ama...
But as soon as Ama opened the window, a bright beam of torch light swung in our direction followed by a rifle barrel that was pointed straight at Ama’s forehead.
After that they broke the door and entered, and asked Ama about Baba... I was right behind them.
In our kitchen we had a mato ko chula, which had a low hanging bhar (where you keep woods to dry), in that bhar there were two small pouches hanging by one of the beams in the bhar... a CRPF jawan opened one of the pouches and looked inside, in it all he saw was Marcha (traditional yeast) which we use to make Jaar... but he did not check the other pouch... in that Baba had hidden Boras (gun powder), and lead/bearings.
Then they took us out and the CRPF jawans surrounded us... the dawn was just starting to break and here we were small children and a woman surrounded by soldiers carrying rifles and machine guns.
Cold, hungry and shivering we didn’t know what was going on, right when we heard older people starting to cry... in fact they were wailing...
The CRPF had rounded up my Bajey – who was actually an ex-Armyman, my Kaka haru and all other able bodied men from the village. All of them were tied with together at waist and hands and they were made to walk in a single file...
Ama, Boju and us children were standing by the road side.... I still remember, when Bajey was passing by where we were, Boju gave him water to drink from a steel ko lota...
This is the first time in my life, when I felt fear... when I was terrified...
Till date, I cannot withstand any soldier with dark skin... for every time I see one, I remember one of them putting the barrel of his rifle on my Ama’s forehead.
Revolution and Oppression... some memories from my childhood that are etched in my heart... and try as I might... I am unable to forget them.
[to be continued.............]
Source: DC
Right from the time when the 1st violent Gorkhaland andolan started in 1984 till today, we are yet to find a voice in the main stream media which has reported objectively on the Gorkhaland statehood demand. We are yet to come across a book written by an outsider, which has done justice to our plight, struggle and the oppression and discrimination that we have had to face and are facing. Hence we formed The DC to tell our own tales... to record our own version of the Darjeeling story.
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Innocents summarily executed by CRPF after July 27, 1986 - notice the victims' wounds - phony encounters ?!! Photo - Himalnews |
We never got our side of the story told.
So to undo these many years of misleading reporting, we are starting a special series on Gorkhaland Andolan, which will allow people to tell their own tale. Each village, each town, each galli in Darjeeling hills has lived a horror and intend to document that. So that may our posterity know what their ancestors have sacrificed for them.
This endeavor is our humble attempt at recording the "living history" of our region, so that the world can see how our people were treated and continue to be treated even today...
We request all our readers to kindly share these stories as much as possible... so that the rest of India know... how the Gorkhas were and are treated in our own land. We are producing these stories in both English and Nepali so that anyone who wants to can read it. Please show it to your parents and grand parents and asked them how was it for them to live in that era.
Also if any of you want to share your story from the Gorkhaland andolan days, please feel free to send it to us, or send us your contact details, we will get in touch with you to record your story.
Here we present out 1st story - Written by someone who lived the horror and survived to tell the tale.
......................................
Flashback - 1986 - Part one
By: Gyanendra Yakso Subba Translation: The DC team
From 1984 to 1988 the Darjeeling Hills were embroiled in Gorkhaland Andolan, it has left very many unforgettable memories that are etched so deep in my psyche that even if I want to, I am unable to forget them. I was only 3 or 4 years old, yet the memories are still as fresh as if they happened yesterday.
In a series of post, I will share my story and my experiences from that era.
Place: Lama Gaon, Bijanbari, Darjeeling
The Gorkhaland andolan had quieted down a bit, when one night out of the blue there was a CRPF Raid in our village. It must have been around 2:30 in the morning. I was 5 years old. Baba was not home that night.
The CRPF jawans surrounded our house and demanded that we open the door. It was only Ama, my elder sisters and us youngsters at home. From the door the knock got insistently louder and so did the voice telling us “OPEN THE DOOR IMMEDIATELY”
Without paying any heed to the knock, Ama wrapped my younger brother (who has now joined the Indian Army) around her back with Barki (shawl) and opened the back window with the intention of jumping out and running away. That is what everyone did back then, getting caught meant getting tortured and possibly killed. We were all right behind Ama...
But as soon as Ama opened the window, a bright beam of torch light swung in our direction followed by a rifle barrel that was pointed straight at Ama’s forehead.
After that they broke the door and entered, and asked Ama about Baba... I was right behind them.
In our kitchen we had a mato ko chula, which had a low hanging bhar (where you keep woods to dry), in that bhar there were two small pouches hanging by one of the beams in the bhar... a CRPF jawan opened one of the pouches and looked inside, in it all he saw was Marcha (traditional yeast) which we use to make Jaar... but he did not check the other pouch... in that Baba had hidden Boras (gun powder), and lead/bearings.
Then they took us out and the CRPF jawans surrounded us... the dawn was just starting to break and here we were small children and a woman surrounded by soldiers carrying rifles and machine guns.
Cold, hungry and shivering we didn’t know what was going on, right when we heard older people starting to cry... in fact they were wailing...
The CRPF had rounded up my Bajey – who was actually an ex-Armyman, my Kaka haru and all other able bodied men from the village. All of them were tied with together at waist and hands and they were made to walk in a single file...
Ama, Boju and us children were standing by the road side.... I still remember, when Bajey was passing by where we were, Boju gave him water to drink from a steel ko lota...
This is the first time in my life, when I felt fear... when I was terrified...
Till date, I cannot withstand any soldier with dark skin... for every time I see one, I remember one of them putting the barrel of his rifle on my Ama’s forehead.
Revolution and Oppression... some memories from my childhood that are etched in my heart... and try as I might... I am unable to forget them.
Read: SPECIAL SERIES ON GORKHALAND ANDOLAN - Flashback 1986 - Part two
[to be continued.............]
Source: DC
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