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Uncover the Pulwama Attacks in ‘As Far As The Saffron Fields’

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In March 2019, two militants were killed during a siege at a house in Nowgam, on the outskirts of Srinagar. One of them was known simply as ‘Idrees Bhai’. The encounter was forgotten for the most part, until investigators came upon a mangled phone that had been destroyed by Idrees Bhai. When the Samsung smartphone began to reveal its secrets, investigators realized they had hit upon a motherlode.

This is the story of a state in conflict, told through the story of a single terror attack. As Far as the Saffron Fields is by far the most definitive book on the Pulwama attack, going where no book on the Kashmir conflict has gone before. This is war at its worst, tearing apart families and dreams, leaving only mangled bodies and phones behind.

Read an excerpt from the first chapter of the book here:

29 March 2019  

Had the investigators not recovered a mangled phone from a house in Nowgam, on the outskirts of Srinagar, they would perhaps not have known much about the Lethpora bombing, now known as the Pulwama attack that killed forty CRPF personnel and nearly sent India and Pakistan to war. 

Nowgam, or ‘new village’, is a large settlement of clustered hamlets between Budgam and Srinagar districts that sprawls on both sides of the road connecting Srinagar with Baramulla. The majority of its residents settled here in the 1990s, after the spike in armed insurgency—especially in the restive north Kashmir region—necessitated migration from rural areas. In later years, people from south Kashmir too began to shift here. This is why we can see a mix of incongruous distinctive social and economic classes in Nowgam today, the red or green sloping roofs of the richer residents’ palatial houses sitting alongside the modest dwellings of the not-so-wealthy.  

The hamlet of Suthsoo Kalan sits at the far end of Nowgam. This settlement is primarily inhabited by Shia Muslims, and has more or less remained indifferent to the long conflict that has lingered all around. Only in the month of Muharram, when the men of the village, both old and young, gather at the Imambara to mourn Hussein ibn Ali and his family, does it come into prominence. During this time, young men roll up their trousers and walk briskly across a pitch of burning coals in a ritual known as Naar Matam, or ‘mourning of the fire’, to beg forgiveness for the martyrs of Karbala. The village’s narrow alleys are dotted with grocery shops, bakeries, small pharmacies and barber shops.  

One night, forty-three days after the Lethpora blast, security forces began to lay siege to Suthsoo Kalan. 

* 

The late Ghulam Ahmad Ganie’s family was among the few Sunni families living in Suthsoo Kalan. A farmer by profession, Ganie had toiled hard to raise his four children. His two-storey house stood by itself, as if it had been ostracized. It was secured by a wall on three sides, the back wall partially consisting of conjoined tin sheets. The house had not been painted from the outside, and the plastered walls gave the impression it was still under construction. The ground floor stood on a concrete plinth and opened up to a lawn with an arborvitae plant right at the centre. The lawn extended towards the street. To its left was a kitchen garden, which seemed part of the mustard field behind the house. White flowers blossomed on the almond trees behind the mustard field.  

Ganie’s eldest son, who worked in the state Public Health Engineering Department, lived on the first floor with his wife and children. Another son worked as a labourer in the paddy fields and fruit orchards. The youngest, twenty-six-year-old Fayaz Ahmad Ganie, had dropped out of school and worked as a labourer, like his elder brother. In due course, he saved some money and, aided by a bank loan, bought a freight carrier. But Fayaz had another side to him.  

By virtue of being on the highway, Nowgam is easily accessible to terrorists who come in from the districts of north Kashmir. To the west of Nowgam is a maze of roads coming in from Pulwama and Budgam districts, therefore rendering the place approachable from both north and south Kashmir. This makes it one of the safe pads from which to launch attacks on the highway and Srinagar city. The militants find support from some of the locals, which is ideological, coercive and influenced by monetary considerations, all in equal measure.  

One of these Nowgam locals was Fayaz, who came in contact with operatives of the Hizbul Mujahideen (HM), ‘the Party of the Holy Warriors’. He was slowly motivated to work for the proscribed organization as an overground worker (OGW), collectively referred to as ‘uppers’ by militants.  

In Kashmir, drivers, cleaners, truck owners and taxi operators are considered to be high-quality assets that militants look to recruit and induct into their organizations. One of the reasons the conflict has sustained itself for so long is the formidable network of OGWs, who extend logistical support to insurgents. Though fully involved in furthering the conflict, these OGWs remain in public and deceptively indulge in subversive activities by sheltering, aiding and providing information to militants about the movement of security forces.  

After his initiation into the organization, Fayaz started running small errands for HM and soon found himself getting sucked deeper into the quagmire. He was tasked with sheltering terrorists in his house from time to time. On one such night, three terrorists came to his house unannounced. 

* 

The stillness of the night was occasionally broken by dogs barking when security forces quietly laid a cordon around Fayaz’s house, plugging the outer lanes and approach roads to prevent anyone from escaping.  

Perhaps the hiding terrorists had got an inkling of the siege, or perhaps they simply surrendered to their fate once they knew about the security forces, but they hurriedly got up from their blankets and prepared to escape. It is not clear whether one of the three, Sameer Dar from Gundibagh, Pulwama, was on lookout duty. Nonetheless, Sameer ran to the right of the house, from where he hurled a grenade into the backstreet, scaled up the wall, landed in the mustard field and disappeared among the almond trees.  

One of the remaining two terrorists called up Bahawalpur in Pakistan several times, but at that hour no one answered. ‘Allah protect us. We have been found out,’ he murmured, fear dripping from his face. ‘Try to break the cordon and don’t stay put in the house,’ he told his mate. ‘And break that damn phone of yours. Do it now,’ he said, repeating, ‘Destroy your phone.’ Both of them fished out their phones and smashed them on the floor several times. The OLED display, batteries and phone sets were destroyed. Gone with them were photographs, numerous selfies, text messages, saved YouTube videos and voice notes.  

The two then tried to break through the front of the house, immediately coming under the shooting arc of the security forces, who had already taken up positions on the house’s three sides. The first round of gunfire felled one of the terrorists who sprinted out into the street. The bullet pierced his head, and he dropped dead near a drain. The other hid behind the arborvitae shrub, looking for a chance to scamper through the bushes and flower beds to safety. Fayaz, meanwhile, peered out from a window and saw the second terrorist cowering behind the shrub. As the man crawled away, he tossed a grenade into the street, but was pinned down by machine-gun fire that strafed the house from three sides. Shot in the arm and stomach, the terrorist lay dead. ‘Khodoyah,’ Fayaz gasped, then murmured a prayer, ‘Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un (Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Allah we shall return).’  

The gunfight lasted barely a few minutes. When the firing stopped, the fearful silence was broken by para bombs that illuminated the night and lit up Fayaz’s house, as well as the mustard fields and almond trees. A few minutes later, a searchlight’s powerful beam scanned the surroundings and fell on the bodies of the two dead men, their weapons glinting. The outer cordon was tightened and the wait for first light began. 

* 

The muezzin’s fading call for the fajr namaz, the first prayer of the day, signalled a new dawn. The two bodies were now clearly visible. The second militant, the one who had hidden behind the arborvitae shrub, wore blue jeans and a brown leather belt. Blood and dirt now covered his blue sports jacket as he lay prone on the ground. His right arm had been completely blown off under the elbow. The first militant, who lay near the drain, had been hit on the forehead, leaving his sparsely bearded face bloodied. His black tracksuit was now soiled with dust. His clothes and shoes, like his companion’s, were dishevelled. 

Initial investigations identified the two dead terrorists as Ali Bhai and Idrees Bhai, both Pakistani nationals. The real identities of insurgents often remain shrouded behind their kunyahs—their adopted battle names, aliases or noms de guerre—such as Hamza, Qari, Ghazi, Huzaifah, Musa and Saifullah. 

Further investigations revealed the identity of Ali Bhai—who had hidden behind the shrub—as Mohammad Kamran Ali, a dreaded terrorist on the most-wanted lists of Pulwama district police. In a photograph available with security forces, he wore a black fez, spectacles and a pheran, the Kashmiri cloak that falls well below the knees. He looked leaner in the picture, and now, with his life snuffed out, his body had grown stiffer and more fragile. His face was gaunt and his beard sucked up in his cheeks. 

The Indian security forces were so elated to have discovered they had got Kamran that they did not even try to uncover the real identity of Idrees Bhai. It would be another nine months before the precious discovery of the mangled phone divulged the story of the twenty-three-year-old, whose real name was Muhammad Umar Farooq Alvi. 

As Far As The Saffron Fields
About the Book - As Far As The Saffron Fields

In March 2019, two militants were killed during a siege at a house in Nowgam, on the outskirts of Srinagar. One of them was known simply as 'Idrees Bhai'. The encounter was forgotten for the most part, until investigators came…

About the Author - Danesh Rana

To read more, order your copy of As Far As The Saffron Fields, by Danesh Rana today!

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