Who was Tikalal Taploo? A Kashmiri Pandit remembers.

I remember the days before everything changed in the Valley, when our neighbors told us about the attacks and the recent campaigns by militants in the city. The whispers of fear hadn’t yet darkened our homes. But that all started to unravel the day Tikalal Taploo was killed. His name, Tikalal Taploo, rings heavy in the hearts of Kashmiri Pandits like me. If you ask me who was Tikalal Taploo, I will tell you, he was more than just a lawyer, more than just a political figure—he was a symbol of hope for all of us.

It was September 14, 1989, when Taploo Ji, a brave Kashmiri Pandit political figure, was shot dead by militants right in front of his own house in broad daylight. I still remember the disbelief, the silence that followed, and then, the screams. It wasn’t just another killing—this was the beginning of something darker, something that ensued the spate of targetted killings of hindus in the valley.

Kashmiri Pandits Martyrs’ Day: A Day to Remember

Every year, on September 14, we observe Martyrs’ Day in memory of Taploo Ji. It’s not just to remember him, but to honor the thousands of innocent lives taken during the insurgency. His death marked the beginning of the mass exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from the Valley, forced out of our homes, away from the land of our ancestors. This day, to us, is a reminder of the brutality we faced and the resilience we must keep alive.

You know, it wasn’t just Taploo Ji who was martyred. No, there were many more. I’ll never forget the fear that consumed us after Taploo Ji was killed. The streets were no longer safe. We could hear the distant gunshots at night, and the sounds of slogans that no longer felt like a call for freedom but a cry for blood. We, Kashmiri Pandits, were being singled out. It was clear, they wanted us out.

In January 1990, it got worse. The nights were filled with fear. From our windows, we could see processions carrying black flags, with people shouting “Ralive, Tsaliv, ya Galive!” — a chilling slogan that meant, “convert, leave, or die.”

We lost everything. Homes, businesses, temples—everything burned to the ground. But worse than the material loss was the loss of our dignity, our sense of safety, our right to call Kashmir our home.

Tikalal Taploo wasn’t the only one who fell to the bullets of the insurgents. Many of us lost family, friends, neighbors. Some of the names I’ll never forget include: Prem Nath Bhat – Another lawyer like Taploo Ji, murdered in 1989, Sarbati Devi – A widow living in Anantnag, killed by militants in the early months of 1990., Sarwanand Kaul Premi – A poet, a scholar, a gentle soul who was kidnapped and killed along with his son in 1990. Girija Tickoo – A school teacher, brutally tortured and killed in June 1990, her story is one that haunts me to this day, Bal Krishna Ganjoo – A rice trader, murdered while hiding in his attic, his cries for help still echo in my mind. The list goes on and on, each name a wound on our collective soul.

Why Tikalal Taploo Matters

Tikalal Taploo is not just a martyr; for kashmiri pandits, he’s a symbol of our resistance to oppression. His death was a loud and clear message to every Kashmiri Pandit—leave or face the same fate. And many did leave, but not without suffering unimaginable horrors. Taploo Ji stood tall for justice, for harmony, and for unity in a time when everything was falling apart. He could have stayed silent, but he didn’t. And for that, he paid with his life.

For us, every year, when we light a candle on September 14, we are not just remembering Taploo Ji. We are mourning for every Kashmiri Pandit who was killed, for every house that was burned, for every temple that was desecrated. We are also reminding ourselves that we are still here.

BJP recently in its assembly elections manifesto named a scheme the gharwapsi scheme after Tikalal Taploo ji. It’s that one name that fills hope and perseverance in the hearts of the community. The blueprint or the roadmap is still not out and many kashmiri hindus wonder if the government has any serious plans other than appropriating the pain and tragedy of kashmiri pandits for their electoral gains or will they act in a decisive manner soon. The questions remains unanswered.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever see Kashmir again. Not the Kashmir on the news or the ones we see in tourist handbooks where people dress up in kashmiri attire, go sightseeing in gulmarg, sonmarg or trek in beautiful peaks to discover the alpine lakes but the kashmir that I saw in my childhood. Will I ever walk those streets without fear? Will the saffron fields bloom for us again? I don’t know. But as long as we remember Tikalal Taploo and all the others who died, their legacy of standing against threats will live on as legacy of challenging the Islamists who wanted us out.

We Kashmiri Pandits are a resilient people. We have to be. We’ve faced loss, exile, and erasure. But we will never forget the harsh treatment meted out to us by our neighbours, kashmiri muslims who were supposed to be our kin and as long as we remember, there is still hope.