“Welcome to Kashmir. The most dangerous place in the world.”

Since this is my first blog on AVS, I thought of writing about my first day of shoot for my film Lamhaa, which I am directing.

Lamhaa: Day 1. North Srinagar, a Vegetable Mandi (Wholesale Market)

It was a cold winter morning. Most of the unit members, including myself, had not slept the entire night, as our production trucks had arrived from Bombay, only at 3 a.m. The loading- unloading of lights, costumes and properties had gone on till 6.  No one had really complained, as the excitement of kicking off the marathon 45-day schedule in Kashmir was extremely high.

Our first few, ‘warm up days’ were to be shot with character actors, and once the unit had settled in, the leads, Sanjay Dutt, Bipasha Basu and Kunal Kapoor would join us, along with the producers of the film. This was at the suggestion of the Military Intelligence, C.R.P.F and J&K police. Kashmir was volatile, as elections were around the corner.  The mood of the people was quite anti India, as most of them were victims of violence due to the recent political riots triggered by the Anantnag land dispute. In short, we were told, that tension are high; curfew and shoot at sight orders could be imposed anytime without notice.

At about 7 am on the first day of our shoot, the 60-member unit arrived at the location, a wholesale vegetable market, north of Srinagar. This is supposedly a militancy-infested bed, which initially, we weren’t aware of and certainly did not appear that way by the welcome we got. A representative of the trade association of the market welcomed some of us with piping hot Kahwa (Kashmiri Saffron tea, with almonds and without milk) and Gird (Kahmiri Nan like bread).

The market, being huge, and the light being low, we unloaded some big lights, and started the generator. There wasn’t much crowd initially, but by the time, I called, “Action”, there must have been at lease a thousand people. All of them were males dressed in ‘phirans’, curious as hell. The 4-man J&K police squad assigned for our protection by the state was not quite sufficient and so we had hired some locals to help us control the crowd.  The larger police unit, the C.R.P.F, was in the vicinity and a phone call away. We were quick in taking our shots, and so by 9.30 we had wrapped up our shoot and we were all set to leave, when I heard a slight commotion. I spotted my friend, philosopher and guide on this mission, Anil Raina, a Kashmiri journalist, in a heated argument with some local vendors. People from Kashmir rightly say, that “Kashmir ka mahoul aur mausam kabhi bhi badal sakte hai”. Within minutes, an irate crowd multiplied from a thousand to five, and before we knew it there were ten thousand angry people surrounding us and locked and secured all exits, thus making us captives. I ordered every member of our crew to get in their vehicles, lock the doors and stay put. The C.R.P.F would be informed and so would the police. We would leave once they got here, which wouldn’t be long. And amidst this chaos, I was taken hostage.

10.30 a.m.    Association Office:
Seated on a small wooden bench, surrounded by a mob of 300, each one looking deadlier than the other all screaming in Kashmiri, I asked Anil to interpret what the heat was all about, which he did. Apparently, some members of the crowd had spotted our dummy A.K. 47 guns, which were to be used as props. He had reported this to the president of the association, who was anyways upset with our production, since our shooting permission was approved by another member, and not him.  He took this as an opportunity to settle earlier score, and in the process we were crucified. As explained earlier, the trust level and animosity towards India and Indians was very high and the misinterpretation of this incident further infuriated the mostly uneducated crowd. The situation was tense to say the least, and any spark of anger from our side, would seal our fate. I was feeling like the wounded zebra amidst hundreds of hyenas, as seen so often on the National Geographic channel. Even the police were watching this high voltage drama of humiliation, being blown out of proportion. Soon, even they were instructed to leave, and they gladly obliged. Another hour gone, and yet no clue or sign of a resolve.  Tempers were so high, that in their outrage, they even asked Anil (a kashmiri hindu pandit) to leave when he tried to help resolve the case.   So by around 11.30 am, I was stranded alone in this room of over 300 hostile and ready to shoot Kashmirs. Meanwhile, my unit had locked them selves up in their vehicles in the docking section. There was no way out.

After interrogating me for about half an hour, tempers started cooling down. They wanted me to tell them the story of Lamhaa, what my intentions were, and what the AK 47 was doing? I refused to speak, till they gave me assurance that none of my crew members would be harmed in any way, in particular the 6 girls that were part of our unit. Some audacities to make demands in a situation like this, but I was responsible for my crew and I would not compromise the safety of my people at any cost- conditionally or unconditionally. Once I had their word, I asked them to bring in my two assistants Sámi, and Mandiup to be with me for moral support. They had agreed, and even offered me some tea and biscuits. What was the reason for this sudden change of attitude, I wondered, when one of the members, who was most vociferously speaking out against us, came up to me and said, and “I loved your film Parzania You are a very courageous film maker, and in Kashmir, we respect people who speak up against authorities and stand up for their rights”.  Great, I said; can we leave now? “No. Parzania guarantees safety to you and your unit. It doesn’t guarantee Freedom!” he said sternly.

It has been a killing two hours now in this dingy room. I am dying to get some fresh air, water. Some kind of relief.  No police in sight not even the CRPF blokes. The media had gotten here and were taking our mug shots and asking all sorts of questions, as if we had committed some sort of crime. This would be telecast all over Kashmir, and then, I would be labeled as Kashmir’s new bad guy. Something had to be done and quickly. Where was the Central police force when we needed them most? Just as I was getting restless, out of the blue came a group of armed officers looking for me. Finally! I thought. The officer (name withheld) came up to me and gave me his card and cell number, and before I could read either, he disappeared. “Call me if you need me” he says, and left for his bunker which was 3 miles away. “I need you, now” I said, but he was gone faster than a speeding bullet.  So here I was, held captive on my first day of shoot, with no resolve in sight, and certainly no one to bail me out.  A zillion thoughts zipped through my mind, from possible rapes of the girls by the crowd to mass murders by militants.  Clueless and helpless, I turned to God for an answer.  I shut my eyes for a moment, regrouped my self, took a deep breadth and calmly asked their chief, a 65 year old grumpy, angry, uncouth old man- “The crowd is growing restless, my crew is getting impatient, and there seems to be no solution you are offering. Maybe, the solution is in the problem”
“What do you mean?” he said.
“Destroy the footage we have shot, and let us go”
For the first time I heard a bit of silence. Most of them mob seemed to agree with my suggestion. By now, they too had realized that they were getting nowhere with this, and after they had discovered my Parzania identity, they weren’t going to possibly physically harm me; maybe this was the best solution. Now that I had their attention, and before they could change their minds, I asked my two assistants to get the cameras and also bring in the production manager into the room.  Once the cameras were here, it was all a matter of minutes, I thought. Brilliant, I said to my self as I thanked god. When the unit saw Samit and Mandiup, and learnt that I was still alive with no harm done to me, they felt greatly relieved. My able assistants arrived with the cameras, but unfortunately for us, instead of solving the issue, created a bigger one. “Show us the footage” they said, and waited for me to oblige. I was dumbstruck.   How do you show an unexposed film, without developing it in a lab?  Who is to explain Film making 101 to this bunch of people who have at best seen a home video camera?  At first they thought I was trying to pull a fast one, when I explained to them that you cant see film till you process it in a lab, and the closest lab is 1500 kilometers away.  I turned to their media guys for an approval. Ignorance is dangerous, but half knowledge can be lethal, and that’s what happened. Their most knowledgeable media guys, had never seen a film camera, neither did they know anything about the process. All of a sudden they got to play God, and obviously did not want to lose their share the limelight, which complicated things further.  Gosh when would this Lamhaa end??? Finally, in this world of digital cameras, I found a film still camera, and used that as an example to demonstrate the process of cinema- and eventually convincing them and securing our release.

We had survived this almost six-hour ordeal, brushing death and mentally screwed. .  If this was day one, I dread to imagine how the rest of the shoot was going to be. A line in my film best summarizes our first day- “Welcome to Kashmir, the most dangerous place in the world”.