Latest news with #KashmiriPandit
Indian Express
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Portrait of a writer: The refugee, ‘pagal' and Bollywood star who is bringing Manto to Pune
Lakshmi Mansion, an old building in the iconic Mall Road of Lahore, used to attract a certain kind of people, who came asking for 'Hazrat Manto'. They had turned the Indo-Pakistani writer Saadat Hasan Manto into a pir (holy man). One day, a young theatre actor from Delhi turned up at the door, looking for memories, anecdotes, and a feeling. He stayed with the family and had long conversations with them, visited the grave of Manto, and slept where the writer used to sit. 'Tum jaisa pagal nahi dekha hai koi (I have not seen a crazy person like you),' Manto's daughter, Nighat Patel, told him. The actor was Ashwath Bhatt, whose intense eyes had witnessed untold horrors in his own homeland. Bhatt was a part of the Kashmiri Pandit exodus from Srinagar in the early 1990s. As refugees, his family was struggling badly. He himself was disturbed, angry, and a mess. That's when Bhatt happened to pick up a book by Manto. 'When I read it, it just hit me out of the blue. It was like a big, big jolt. I wondered who this guy was. All I was seeing in my environment at that time of my life, if I use one word, it would be 'hypocrisy'. I related a lot to what this chap, Manto, was saying,' says Bhatt. It was also a time that Bhatt was growing into theatre, the only space where he used to forget all his insecurities and troubles and just focus on the rehearsal or whatever exercises his director had asked him to do. He did a play of a Manto story, Thanda Gosht, which was a runaway hit in Delhi. It was only a matter of time before Bhatt would think of a play that would be not only about Manto's stories but the writer himself. Ek Mulaqat Manto Se was born in 1998, whose first audiences were Bhatt's friends at the National School of Drama (NSD), India's top theatre training academy. Bhatt, though, did not stage the play publicly. He kept developing it, researching every nuance, adding and honing its details. He stayed with the story even as he graduated from NSD and was selected to join the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. At last, in 2002, Ek Mulaqat Manto Se opened at the Nehru Centre in London to acclaim. Bhatt, now a famous Bollywood actor based in Mumbai, will bring the play to Pune's The Box on July 26 (Saturday), 7 pm. Ek Mulaqat Manto Se is in two parts, pre-and post-Independence. The writer, who chronicled the horrors and abuse of the Partition, ensuring that the world never forgets, is at the centre of Bhatt's play. The narrative revolves around Manto's childhood, family, and friends, the persecution he faced, and his self-ridicule. It talks about Manto's depression and drinking, his time in Bollywood, before the Hindi film industry was called that, and the irony, hypocrisy, and moral decay of the society that he satirized in his works. 'Manto is known for his irreverent writing, holding up a mirror to society, especially at ugly times. He is hailed as one of Urdu's finest and most controversial writers. The performance is based on articles written by Manto,' says Bhatt. He plays Manto and addresses the audience directly in an effort to answer the question: 'Why I write what I write?' Ek Mulaqat Manto Se is being revived after five years, and Bhatt keeps adding and changing it. 'I will keep doing the play till I am dead. It will end with me, or when I am creatively dead and cannot perform,' he says. Bhatt adds that Laxmi Mansion was redeveloped for commercial establishments. 'The house was not saved or made into a foundation or preserved as a museum. What they did was give Manto the Nishan-e-Imtiaz, Pakistan's highest civilian honour, in 2012. Manto would have laughed,' says Bhatt. Dipanita Nath is interested in the climate crisis and sustainability. She has written extensively on social trends, heritage, theatre and startups. She has worked with major news organizations such as Hindustan Times, The Times of India and Mint. ... Read More
The Print
19-07-2025
- Politics
- The Print
Bilal Lone takes dig at brother Sajjad, joins mainstream to reclaim father's legacy
Wishing Sajjad Lone all the best in his future endeavours, Bilal Lone sought to convey a clear message to him, saying, 'Please do politics on your own strength and not exploit the ideology' of their late father. Lone's comments are seen as a veiled critique of his brother, MLA Sajjad Lone, who has been in mainstream politics for years. In an interview with the PTI Videos, Bilal Lone said that he and his brother have been on 'different political paths since 2002'. Srinagar, Jul 19 (PTI) Former separatist leader Bilal Gani Lone has entered the political mainstream, saying his primary motivation is to correctly represent the 'true legacy' of his late father, Abdul Gani Lone, which he claims has been misrepresented even 'within the family'. He said the senior Lone stood for 'non-violence' and the 'dignity of his people' and that these principles will remain at the core of his own politics. He said the People's Conference, the party founded by his father, 'died on 21 May 2002' — the day of his father's martyrdom. He vowed to pursue an 'organic' path, building his politics 'on his own strength' and steering clear of the 'politics of exploitation'. Abdul Gani Lone, a votary for a dialogue, was killed by Hizbul Mujahideen terrorists on May 21, 2002, in downtown Srinagar, where he had gone to mark the death anniversary of Mirwaiz Maulvi Farooq. Lone asserted that he has no grand political vision but a simple vow to 'speak the truth', and stressed he is not in the race for any position like chief minister or MLA but is driven by a desire to 'pay back' his people. 'If the door of my house closes because of the truth, I have no problem with that,' he said, describing his new political journey as a collective effort moving at a 'snail's pace' to regain trust. Lone said that while he and his former Hurriyat colleagues 'could not do anything' for the people, his ties with Mirwaiz Umar Farooq remain strong. He called the Mirwaiz a leader of a 'very big stature' with a significant role to play, adding that he would be willing to follow him if he took a constructive political path. Bilal Lone said his decision to shift political paths is to save the youth, whom he described as the 'biggest casualty of the conflict' and added that 'violence has given us nothing'. 'Violence ne yahan par barbaadi hi laayi hai (violence has only brought disaster)' and 'finished generations' and left Kashmiris 'at the receiving end', he said. His new political narrative will go beyond the traditional focus on roads, power, and water. He plans to address the future of the new generation by talking about their education, health facilities and business prospects. Bilal Lone also said that reconciliation between Kashmiri Muslims and Pandits is essential, as the 'biggest casualty' in the Valley has been trust between the two communities. He stressed that a fresh start is necessary for the two communities. 'Kashmiri Muslims need to understand that if a Kashmiri Pandit lives in our neighbourhood, that is my duty to safeguard him, not the state,' he said while emphasising the need for sincerity and a frank conversation about past wrongs between the two communities. 'Whatever wrong has been done in the past… let us address those people. Let us go and talk to them,' he said, suggesting that if a mistake was made, an apology should be offered. PTI SKL RT RT This report is auto-generated from PTI news service. ThePrint holds no responsibility for its content.
News18
19-07-2025
- Entertainment
- News18
Anupam Kher Says His Father Died Of Starvation, Felt Water Tasted Like Acid
Last Updated: Anupam Kher's father had a disease which made food feel like sand and water taste like acid. Anupam Kher's father, Pushkar Nath Kher, was born into a Kashmiri Pandit family and spent most of his adult life in Shimla after relocating there in 1949. He served as a clerk in the Himachal Pradesh state forest department, a quiet and modest public servant role that contrasted sharply with his son's later fame. However, despite living a well life, he died of starvation. In a recent chat with Filmfare, Anupam Kher opened up about his father's last days. 'He died of starvation because he got a strange disease, where, for him, food started to feel like sand. And water felt like acid. So he would throw things away. He became very frail," he shared. Anupam recalled that his father could not communicate and tried to write something, but could only manage to draw some lines. 'Because he didn't have the energy to form words or sentences. To make him feel better, I just responded in a very generalised way, 'Of course.' He looked a little disappointed. Then he called me closer. I leaned in, my ears almost touching his mouth. And this man, who was going to die in the next 20 minutes, whispered his last two words to me: 'Live life.' That was phenomenal. A dying man… telling you to live life. Because he had lived his," he recalled. In the same interview, Anupam Kher also opened up about his struggling days. 'Struggling days were horrible. I slept on the railway platform in Bandra East for 27 days. And the cops didn't drive me away as I used to sleep around 1:20 a.m., before the last train would arrive. And one of the cops was very kind. I actually met his son about four years ago. He said to me, 'Aapko yaad hai woh police wale bade ache thay.' So there is a lot of kindness in the world," he shared with Filmfare. Anupam Kher's life changed when Mahesh Bhatt cast him in Saaransh (1984). He played a 60-year-old man mourning the loss of his only son. Anupam Kher's performance earned widespread praise, proving to be a turning point in his career. First Published: July 19, 2025, 12:07 IST Disclaimer: Comments reflect users' views, not News18's. Please keep discussions respectful and constructive. Abusive, defamatory, or illegal comments will be removed. News18 may disable any comment at its discretion. By posting, you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy.
Indian Express
16-07-2025
- Indian Express
‘What signs of reformation has he shown?': Priyadarshini Mattoo's family relives horror of her death as killer seeks freedom
Hemant Mattoo hadn't felt this kind of rage in years. When he read about the Delhi High Court directing that the case for premature release of his sister's killer be considered afresh, it struck like a blow. But anger quickly gave way to disbelief when he saw the reason: the convict had shown an 'element of reformation.' Nearly three decades ago, his sister, Delhi University law student Priyadarshini Mattoo, was killed. She was 25. The accused was a college senior and an IPS officer's son, Santosh Kumar Singh. He had been pursuing her relentlessly in the months leading up to her death. On January 23, 1996, while Priyadarshini was alone at home, Santosh would be seen by a neighbour entering her house in the evening. She would later be found lying under her bed, with a room heater's cord wrapped around her neck — she had been brutally raped and murdered. For Hemant, the decades since her killing have been filled with recurring waves of fury. First, when the district court nearly let Santosh walk free, then when the Supreme Court commuted his death sentence to life imprisonment, and again upon learning that he was lodged in an open prison, afforded freedoms unimaginable to the family he destroyed. Speaking to The Indian Express, Hemant, who is settled in Canada, says, 'I want to know what signs of reformation he has shown. Has he apologised to my family? Has he apologised to his own family? He's never even approached us. He still maintains his innocence.' His anger mounts as he speaks further. 'He's been getting the mild side of the stick ever since he committed the crime. It's a joke that the justice system has played with us…' On July 1, the HC had directed the Sentence Review Board (SRB) to consider the case of Santosh's premature release afresh. Holding the SRB's decision to deny Santosh, along with two other prisoners, premature release as suffering from 'material procedural and legal infirmities', the court highlighted several lacunae in the current process undertaken by the board while deciding applications for early release of prisoners. A fresh decision is to be taken within four months. 'She faced months of harassment' Hemant vividly remembers that fateful January day. He was in Kuwait at the time when he got a call around 4 pm. It was from a family friend, who broke the news to him. 'The ground seemed to shift under my feet,' he says. By the time he reached Delhi, almost the entire Kashmiri Pandit community had gathered to pay their condolences. 'They first thought the murder was a militant attack. Then they got to know it was a guy who did it, a college student… Nothing like that had ever happened within our community.' Hemant pauses for a moment before saying, 'Well, apart from the exodus.' It had just been a few years after the Kashmiri Pandits had been forcibly exiled from the valley. The Mattoos had moved from Srinagar to Jammu. After Priyadarshini moved to the Capital to pursue her studies in Law, her father, Chaman Lal Mattoo, took up a job as chairman of a non-profit organisation in Delhi. However, their parents would soon notice how troubled Priyadarshini was in college. She had caught the eye of Santosh, a senior, and he was determined to woo her. In February 1995, he followed her on his bike and stopped her car at a traffic light. Priyadarshini responded by lodging a complaint at the R K Puram police station, where he signed an undertaking that he wouldn't harass her again. Six months later, in August, Santosh followed her home to Vasant Kunj and tried to break into the house. Priyadarshini went to the police. Again, the police made him sign an undertaking. By October, Priyadarshini's parents were aware of the routine harassment she was facing. She and her father approached the Commissioner of Police, seeking protection. She was subsequently assigned a Personal Security Officer (PSO). That same day, she debriefed the Dean of the Faculty of Law about the harassment, who, in turn, called Santosh and requested him to desist. Furious at her resistance, Santosh would attempt to get her expelled from college by accusing her of pursuing two degrees simultaneously. Priyadarshini had to give a detailed explanation to the authorities, reiterating Santosh's ploys of harassment. From then on, his behaviour saw an escalation. In November, he grabbed hold of her arm in college and refused to let go. This time, Priyadarshini filed a complaint and an FIR was registered at Maurice Nagar police station under IPC Section 354 (assault or criminal force to a woman with intent to outrage her modesty). Santosh was arrested — before being let go on a personal bond, a signed letter promising the police that he'll appear in court when he is summoned. By December 1995, Priyadarshini was a nervous wreck. Hemant, who had come to Delhi for a vacation, recalls that she looked stressed. '… I remember she looked scared and stressed. When I asked her, she brushed it off as exam stress… she never told me anything. Later, when I demanded why I was kept in the dark, my cousins said nobody wanted me to worry…' By January next year, she was gone. The post-mortem report noted 19 injuries and three broken ribs. Santosh had also used his motorcycle helmet to bludgeon her head, a piece of evidence that would become crucial in the High Court case. When the helmet was submitted as evidence, it was damaged — the visor was broken, containing specks of blood. Moreover, Priyadarshini's PSO and the neighbour who saw Santosh entering the house would note in their testimonies that they had seen the same helmet with him, but undamaged and with a visor. During Priyadarshini's last rites, their mother confided in Hemant that they'd approached Santosh's father. 'They had asked him to make his son stop troubling Priya…,' recalls Hemant bitterly. But his father's faith in the judiciary was never shaken. 'He always believed the right thing would be done. He told me, 'We'll do it the right way, we'll take the legal route'… He sent me back to Kuwait as well because he was scared I'd do something stupid,' Hemant says. 'She was a tomboy, funny and fearless' Back in Kuwait, Hemant felt unmoored. 'Those days, I walked around like there was no life in me… She was eight years younger, she was my baby sister,' he says. He recalls Priyadarshini as a funny, gregarious, fearless and tomboyish girl. 'She was an incredible prankster. She would do this thing back when we were in Srinagar. When someone would come to visit our house, she'd tell them that their scooter was in the way and a neighbour had asked us to move it; could she have the keys? She'd then take the vehicle for a joy ride,' Hemant laughs. 'You could never be sad around her; she was always brimming with jokes. She was good at mimicry too — she only had to listen to someone talk once… Back then, she'd pick fights over politics with the boys in Nawabazaar. We used to say, 'We need to find a girl for this girl' because she was so tomboyish…,' he says. If Priyadarshini were still here, Hemant says, she'd probably have moved to the States or Canada after her studies. 'After we left Kashmir, we felt out of place everywhere. We were always looking for a place to settle down and put down our roots. He (Santosh) really took what little we had left,' says Hemant.
Deccan Herald
13-07-2025
- Deccan Herald
J&K L-G vows justice to victims of terrorism
Among the cases now being re-examined are the 1989 assassination of retired Kashmiri Pandit judge Neelkanth Ganjoo and the brutal killing of 23 Kashmiri Pandits in Wandhama, Ganderbal, in January 1998.
