"My fingers hurt from frequent dialing of your numbers, and at night I get up and feverishly check for new messages on my smartphone, then look through the pictures I took during my last visit with you again and again. " This is how it is written in a handwritten message of a young woman writing to her family in the Kashmir Valley.
Vicar Ahmad Shah Syed, 27, has saved a photo of the letter on his smartphone. He collected 17 such messages. They come from people who can no longer live in Kashmir and can not make contact with their families.
For three and a half months, the Kaschmirtal has been practically cut off from the outside world. No internet, no mobile connection, restricted landline. The reasoning of the Indian government: They want to prevent the communication of terrorists and restore peace in the region (read the interview with India's Foreign Minister Jaishankar).
New Delhi had deprived Jammu and Kashmir of autonomous status at the beginning of August and had recently divided the predominantly Muslim state into two Union territories. Hundreds of politicians were arrested, and last year alone 400 people died there from state violence.
The news Syed has collected testifies to the dread of the authors about the lives of their friends, parents, and siblings. To be unable to do anything about helplessness. The pain of not knowing. Syed has helped to reduce this uncertainty for a few.
Private
One of the messages Syed has collected
The 27-year-old comes from Pulwama, a district in the Kaschmirtal. He is a freelance photographer and has traveled regularly to New Delhi since the beginning of the blackout to use the Internet and get orders from media outlets. He takes photos for them in the conflict region. There are no travel restrictions for residents of Kashmir. In mid-August, Syed stayed in the capital when a friend wrote to him. If he could not bring a message to his family in Kashmir. Syed agreed.
Shortly thereafter, he posted an appeal on his Facebook profile: "Anyone from Pulwama, who lives outside Kashmir and has a message for friends and family, can send it to me." He will do his best to reach all addresses. He got WhatsApp messages, photographed letters, audio recordings. They came from students from different places in India, two from Saudi Arabia.
And Vyed traveled not only to Pulwama and Srinagar, but also to Anantnag, Kulgam and Shopian, to the south of the Kashmir valley. Syed drove over the villages for two days. A volunteer postman delivering digital news at the front door. His cell phone - virtual stationery.
He has delivered news of passed examinations, weddings and illnesses, says Syed. He sits in a living room of a friendly family in New Delhi, as he tells the story by WhatsApp call. He is there for two days. Many families have been very emotional.
He had told a mother the news that her son had become second best in an exam. "She took me in her arms and started to cry, then she said, 'You're like a son to me.' 'He had little time to stay with the families. Distributing all messages took two full days. "It hurt to break loose, many parents cried when I left." More than once he was persuaded to stay for dinner. "Our meals are quite long," he adds.
MIRROR ONLINE
It's news like these that Syed brings to the families a little hope. "My dearest father, I'm fine," writes a young man who studies at Aligarh Muslim University near New Delhi. "Dearest Mother, I know you are worried about me, I remember you said I should not hang myself up on things that hurt too much, I try to follow your advice."
Syed's trips to southern Kashmir were not without its dangers. There are particularly many controls by the Indian military. Especially in the southern districts of Kashmir there are a lot of controls by the Indian military. Many residents do not even go outside the doors. The few people on the street had thought Syed was a police officer and would have been very suspicious. Fortunately, he did not experience any major complications.
"Just the feeling of driving through these areas is depressing, I was like an alien visiting another planet." The streets became extinct, the markets closed. "In the fields, I saw the apples rot," says Syed. In Kashmir most of the apples are grown for the Indian market.
More about the Kashmir conflict
Syed knows the pictures of the emergency. The 27-year-old knows no time when Kashmir came to rest. The conflict has been affecting the world public for more than 70 years. Pakistan, China and India claim parts of the region for themselves. Especially in the 90s, when Syed attended elementary school, there were numerous deaths and human rights violations. "As a kid, I've always wanted a camera to capture people's suffering and show the world what's really going on here."
Now, he says, he experiences a hopelessness like never before. "The people here have the anger written in the face." He is always worried about his mother, his grandmother, his little brother when he leaves Pulwama. In addition to work, he now has another reason for traveling to New Delhi. "I'll keep delivering messages until the blackout is over."
"My mother is praying for him," says Fardin Kursheed Bhat, 20. He is studying history in Calcutta, a city near the border between India and Bangladesh. He's been friends with Syed since elementary school. For Bhat he is the living connection home. He also sent a message to Syed after the call: "Mom, I want to remind you what you told me last time: 'We've had a lot of hard, troubled times and they too will pass by, Inshallah.'
