Behind the Srinagar’s longest encounter, a scared 18-year-old

Imran says he was trained at a camp across the border, which the Pakistani army knew of and raided a couple of times during his stay. ‘‘The armymen came and asked our Amirs to close, but we completed our training. We were sent to Kashmir in a group of 13 a month ago and another group of eight followed us,’’ he says.

Son of landless labourer Muzzafar Khan, who had migrated to Dhagay village in Gujranwala from the North West Frontier Province, Imran was introduced to jihad by the Lashkar-e-Toiba when one of their men came and spoke to the villagers at the local mosque. ‘‘This happened just five months ago. I was so charged up with emotions that I instantaneously decided to join,’’ he recalls.

‘‘He told us about the atrocities committed on Kashmiri Muslims. He told us stories about girls being raped by armymen. He talked of armymen walking into mosques with their shoes on,’’ Imran remembers.

It was not, however, just jihad alone that got Imran to the camp. He admits that he wanted to escape problems in his personal life as well. His mother had died and his father had remarried, leading to problems for him. Being an illitrate son of a landless labourer, he saw few opportunities for himself in Dhagay.

The Laskhar held out one opening—a cause to die for—and he grabbed it. While there are fidayeens who are highly educated and ideologically motivated, Imran is not an exception. ‘‘The motivation of men like Imran is more emotional rather than ideological,’’ says a security force officer who has interrogated three dozen foreign militants during his tenure here. ‘‘We have seen fidayeens from all backgrounds. They can hold a master’s degree or be illitrate. The only common thing is the age: they are all 17-25 years old,’’ he says.

Imran was trained for three months at the Khalid Bin Waleed camp and a month ago, crossed the border along with 13 others. ‘‘We were given training in arms and were told about the virtues of death in jihad. We were told about martyrdom,’’ he says. ‘‘We crossed from Kail and stayed in the jungles near Kudara village in Bandipore.’’

A day before the fidayeen attack, four of them—Abu Sadiya, Abu Umar, Abu Tulha and me—put on jeans, as instructed, and left for Srinagar. ‘‘We walked down to village Sumlar, took a bus to Bandipore and then to Srinagar, where we met a local Kashmiri guide,’’ Imran recalls. ‘‘He took us to a house in Dargah (Hazratbal) and next morning one of us accompanied him for reconnaissance. In the evening we took our weapons and left to launch the attack.’’

Imran remembers every moment of what happened next. The three other fidayeens with him were walking ahead of him. ‘‘I was behind them and when I heard the firing, I couldn’t move. I felt scared and ran back,’’ Imran says. ‘‘I don’t know what happened…I was ready to die till that last minute.’’

The other men managed to sneak into the camp, and later take shelter in the BSNL complex. The encounter that began lasted for three days—Srinagar’s longest—in which an Army major along with two soldiers were killed. Two officers, including a colonel, were injured. The firefight ended only after the three fidayeens got killed.

The first day Imran spent hiding in a nearby mosque. ‘‘I was not able to escape, there seemed no way. I met a man there and talked to him. He took me to the Army in his autorickshaw,’’ the 18-year-old murmurs. Fear in his voice, Imran isn’t sure what the future holds. ‘‘I don’t want to go back. I don’t know what will happen to me,’’ he says nervously.