Bandipora: Sajad Gul sat quietly on a wooden chair on a porch at the end of a canopy of pink roses at his family’s two-story house in the midst of apple and pear orchards, remembering the cold and snowy night of 5 January 2022, when dozens of uniformed, armed men entered his home and took him away. 

After nearly 19 months in the dim, claustrophobic confines of Bareilly jail in Uttar Pradesh, more than 1,100 km southeast of home, he was happy, he said, to breathe the fresh mountain air, a reminder of freedom, both bitter and sweet. 

“I was accused of crimes I never committed,” said Gul, 29, a slim, tired-looking man, dressed in blue jeans and a black T-shirt, his voice tinged with exhaustion but resolute, as he recalled the ordeal that upended his life, killed his idealism and journalism career and fractured his sense of justice.

Gul said he was not unusually concerned after an army unit cordoned off his house in a sleepy village called Shahgund, 40 km north of the town of Bandipora. “It had been a usual thing (sic),” he said, referring to security forces showing at people’s homes after Article 370 of the Constitution granting special status to Jammu and Kashmir was removed on 5 August 2019. Before his arrest, the army visited his home three times in the 24 hours before they finally took him away, according to Gul.

“After some initial questioning outside my home, I was taken away and put in a jeep, only to be handed over to the police,” said Gul in a wide-ranging interview with Article 14, four months after his release. 

Gul was later arrested by the Jammu and Kashmir police on 5 January 2022, for posting a video of a family protesting against the death of a family member killed in a Srinagar gunfight. We reported in December 2021 that he had faced police harassment for the story, which eventually led to harassment—a raid on his home with no warrant and alleged threats to his family—arrest and incarceration. 

On 1 December 2021, the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), a global advocacy that promotes press freedom, tweeted that it was concerned about Gul’s repeated harassment in a region where on 7 March 2024 Prime Minister Narendra Modi claimed Kashmiris were “breathing freely”, and on 9 November said “democracy had strengthened”. 

“Amid ongoing police harassment in retaliation for his journalistic work, CPJ reiterates its call on authorities to drop their investigation into Gul and allow him to report without interference,” said CPJ.

The grounds for Gul’s arrest appeared to have been prepared almost a year before he was taken away. A first information report filed (FIR) by a tehsildar on 2 February 2021 accused Gul of trying to “disrupt peace and tranquillity”. A second FIR filed on 5th January  2022 by the Hajin police station in Bandipora accused him of “promoting disharmony and public mischief”. 

On 15 January 2022, 10 days after his first arrest, a local court in Bandipora district granted bail to Gul, then a journalism student and freelance reporter with the independent website, The Kashmir Walla, which the government forcibly closed.

On 14 January 2022, a day before he got bail—and likely in anticipation that he would—the government invoked the 46-year-old Public Safety Act (PSA) against Gul, which allows for arrest and detention for up to two years without a warrant or specific charges.

Once called a “lawless law” by the global advocacy Amnesty International, the PSA, many legal experts have said, is unconstitutional, widely misused and violative of fundamental rights.  You can read Article 14’s reporting on the use of the PSA here and here.

Gul said The Kashmir Walla editor Fahad Shah helped him with legal representation and stood by him. But Shah was himself arrested nearly a month later on 4 February 2022. Jailed for 21 months under terror charges, Shah was granted bail on 17 November 2023, after a court demolished most of the case against him. 

Gul said there were many journalists in Bandipora but they were too afraid to do their jobs. “I became a target because the others chose silence,” he said. “Had my conscience allowed me to be silent like them, perhaps I would not have gone to jail.”

After the PSA detention, Gul was moved from a police station to Kot Bhalwal Jail in Jammu, 300 km south of Shahgund. On 22 May 2022, he was moved again to the district jail in Bareilly, Uttar Pradesh. When the PSA detention was quashed on 9 November 2023, Gul was moved back to Kashmir and kept for 198 days in the Baramulla district jail on charges he faced in an FIR filed against him in December 2023. On 8 July 2024, he was finally free after a sessions court in Bandipora granted bail in that case. Three days later, one of Gul’s lawyers, the ad hoc chairman of the J&K Bar Association, was also detained under the PSA and is currently imprisoned in Jammu’s Kot Bhalwal jail.

Gul’s arrest followed a pattern of intimidating independent journalists in Kashmir by exhausting them with slow harassment over months, involving repeated calls from different police & security units, summons for interrogation and court hearings (here, here and here).

“I was not prepared for my arrest,” said Gul. “I was kept in Bandipora for 10 days and on 15 January, I was handcuffed and taken to Kot Bhalwal jail in Jammu from Bandipora in the darkness of the night.”

After five months in Kot Bhalwal, Gul was moved to Bareilly jail in UP on 14 May 2022. His family found it difficult to visit because of the distance and the expense. In Bareilly jail, Gul said, he was confined for 573 days in a dank, dark 10-ft-by-10- ft cell. 

The only family Gul met was his brother who visited him twice during his incarceration. He spoke to his mother once for five minutes in 2.9 years, even though the family applied for and completed formalities required to use the telephone system for inmates, said Gul. 

Gul said he was still optimistic about his journalism career but worried about the impact of his arrest on friends and colleagues.  Gul spoke about his time in prison, his delight at personal freedom and sadness over the  media situation in Kashmir, where independent journalism has largely ended. 

Gul recalled the despair of prison, how his eyesight dimmed, his mental health suffered and how learned to adapt and get by.

“I remember, I had no extra clothes or money with me,” said Gul. “And I had to wear just one trouser and a t-shirt for a month. When another inmate noticed my situation, he gave me his clothes.” 

“At the time of my release from jail, I distributed all my clothes among those inmates whose families could not afford to visit them,” said Gul. “That is how life in prison was.” 

How are you after 910 days in jail (573 days in Bareilly jail, 119 in Kot Bhalwal jail, 198 in Baramulla and the rest in a police station and travelling between jails)?

I am delighted to be out and happy with the solidarity I’ve received from everyone. I am trying to normalise myself with my family, friends and everyone whom I meet every day. I have been mentally disturbed, but I am fighting the battle to get back where I was. One thing that encourages me is that the people around me are loving. Each day, new people come to meet me, some for interviews and some for casual meetings. Since I returned home, a lot of friends have visited, and many ask if I need anything. Everyone gives me confidence and care. That is what keeps me going. 

Tell us about your time in prison.

These 910 days in prison were really hard. Imagine a life where you are denied communication with your family for hundreds of days, where you are kept in a cramped, narrow, dark cell where you cannot see the sun, moon, stars, or trees, cannot meet or talk to your family. How would you imagine such a life? I cried. I was unaware of the things that went on outside the jail. I got to know about the death of many of my relatives only after I was released. I didn’t know that my brother got engaged. Many of my friends got married, and few had children. Prison imprisoned me from the rest of the world.

Were you provided with proper legal representation, and did you have access to communication with your family?

My legal team was very dedicated and supportive. I will always be grateful to my lawyers who stood firmly by me throughout my 910 days of incarceration. I am especially thankful to Nazir Ahmad Ronga, his son Umair Ronga. I was taken by surprise when I learned that one of my lawyers, Nazir Ahmad Ronga, was also taken to jail. It was shocking to hear that he, despite his age and poor health, was imprisoned as well [Editor’s Note: Nazir Ahmad Ronga, 75, ad hoc chairman of the J&K Bar Association, was also detained under the PSA on 11 July 2024. For four years, the government has taken issue with what it calls the bar association’s “secessionist ideology”].

I must thank them, but all this was arranged by my editor, Fahad Shah. who later was also jailed. And I had no communication, neither with my lawyers nor with my family. I was unaware of the case updates, but my family and lawyers fought my case during my imprisonment. Every prisoner has a right to call home, but I was denied communication.

Could you describe the living conditions in jail? Did you face any mistreatment or harassment during your detention?

I was completely and utterly isolated [Editor’s note: he was isolated from time to time on certain days]. I didn’t hear or see the faces of other prisoners. I was locked up for 23 hours a day in a narrow, dark cell, with 30 minutes of walking in the morning and again in the afternoon. I had never been in isolation before, and every hour seemed like a year. There was no natural light in my cell. A single bulb 23 ft above would illuminate the cell all the time, and that would spoil our sleep at night. I didn’t have a wristwatch, and I often thought it was the evening or the night when it was morning. I had nothing to read, nothing to write on, no one to talk to except a few fellow Kashmiri prisoners, almost 10 of them. When I had no one in my cell, I would play with fat ants. We don’t have such big ants in Kashmir. 

I have not seen [for so long] the darkness of night, the brightness of a beautiful moon and the marvel of stars twinkling. That high-tech prison was designed in a very cruel manner. There is no night and there is no day. It was the change in temperature and the switching on and off of giant LED lights that informed us about day and night. 

Apart from prayers and reading the Quran there was nothing else to do. I was hardly able to sleep for a few hours as the summer of Uttar Pradesh is very hot. The heatwaves snatched our sleep. And again, in the winter, the cold is, I guess, more bitter than Kashmir. Both the winter and summer are bad there. It was very difficult to kill time because there was no other book available. Besides the Quran, I read a few other books inside the cell secretly [through another inmate]. If caught, I would have been booked under some other cases. Luckily, I was never caught. I always hid my material under the mattress I slept on. When I inquired about the library, the jail authorities said all the books were in Hindi, a language alien to me.

Permission to make phone calls to my home had been denied to me by the authorities. Sometimes, I felt I would die within these four walls and those insects would consume me. My hopes were almost dead.

How did you spend your time in jail? 

Well,  I had a few books and Kashmiri and Urdu Qurans, which I kept with me, and read a lot. I memorised a few chapters of the holy Quran. And I spent time as I said playing with the ants in my cell. Books were only allowed in the last months before my release by a new senior superintendent of the Bareilly jail on humanitarian grounds. He was a kind officer and realised that we were also once students. I wrote a few letters to him asking him to allow us a newspaper. After a long struggle, he allowed us a national newspaper, The Times of India, which was shared with 50 prisoners from other blocks too. Every inmate had a few minutes to finish it. That is how we got the news. It was bliss to have a newspaper. Having a pen was illegal.

I have done a lot of worship in jail, and in solitary confinement, there was direct contact with God. I don’t think I need to do more worship (Laughs).  It seemed like every prayer was answered.

Why do you think you were arrested and jailed?

I was jailed because I was the only one who was doing critical stories from the ground in Bandipora district. Otherwise we have a pack of journalists here [but] they are afraid. I became a target because the others chose silence. Had my conscience allowed me to be silent like them, perhaps I would not have gone to jail.

Did you know or have a sense that you would be arrested?

I remember it was a cold, snowy night on 5 January 2022. My family had gone to bed early. It was 10:30 pm, and I was working on some important story when I heard vehicles outside and then a loud banging on the main gate of my house. It was not the first or the last raid by the security forces. It had been a usual thing (sic), particularly after the abrogation of Article 370. I looked out from a window and saw soldiers and their vehicles.

The army visited my house three times in 24 hours before finally taking me away in a jeep. I was handed over to the J&K police and in just 10 days, I was slapped with back-to-back FIRs and one PSA case, even though the court gave me bail in all the cases. I was then moved to Kot Bhalwal Jail in Jammu after being detailed under the PSA. I was kept there for four months without any contact with my family. I was then moved to the district jail In Bareilly, Uttar Pradesh.

How did your family and friends react to your arrest?

They were shocked. They could do nothing except beg the officers to release me. When I was first taken into custody I heard some of my family and relatives were also picked by the army for interrogation. But, luckily, they were released just after a few hours of questioning. I was really devastated when I heard about it.

 How has your incarceration affected your work as a journalist?

 It has impacted me a lot. I believe in myself. I could have written some good stories and might have also won recognition for my work. I might even have taken admission in a foreign university, but the jail spoiled my time and now I have a lot of restrictions on my passport. I can't go abroad.

How did you react when the arrest took place?

At the time of my arrest I reacted very normally with the army who detained me in the middle of the night from my home because I knew I was not doing anything wrong. But when I was handed over to the police in the middle of the night. They started beating and interrogating me and made me remove clothes for interrogation. I felt something was wrong. After my arrest I was forced to give them the passwords to my phone and all my social media accounts. I initially refused. I was given a solid blow on my face, and it started bleeding. Otherwise I took my arrest very lightly and even told my mother not to panic, saying I would return home soon. But it all turned ugly, and I  returned home after nearly three years.  

What is the impact of your incarceration on your physical, mental and emotional health?

 The incarceration has had a lot of impact on my mental, emotional and physical health. I cannot now focus on studies, and when I read a book I lose my train of thought. My eyesight has also weakened after sitting all day inside my cell. I cannot eat normal food, and I get easily sick because in jail we ate food which had no salt—no spices that we usually have at home. Food at home has spices, so I have trouble eating this food.  I am getting used to it, and soon I will be okay. It will take time to recover.

What can you say about the case/cases against you?

 The cases against me are absolutely false. I am accused of crimes I never committed. For example there is section 307 (of the Indian Penal Code), which means attempt to murder. For God's sake, tell me, when and where did I commit such a crime? I really don’t know how these officers used these sections against me. Did their conscience just die? I should not have been booked under these false cases.

There was a protest, and I went there to report it and uploaded a video of the protest. I did not organise the protest, it was not my protest. I was only a messenger, and I was sent to jail for more than 30 months. Serious sections (of the law) were used against me and draconian laws were slapped against me. And once I got bailed out, more FIRs were lodged against me . My job is to tell the stories of the marginalised and report on ground realities. The judiciary in Kashmir seems to be helpless.

In another instance, I was booked after I wrote a story about a boy who was allegedly killed by police, who accused him of being a militant, a charge the boy's family contested. 

What are your thoughts on the arrests of and cases against other journalists in Kashmir?

It is really disturbing to see the rise in attacks on journalists in Kashmir. In a healthy democracy,  journalists should be free to write, but we are criminalised for simply doing our job. Some six journalists have been sent to jail in Kashmir by authorities for doing their job, and I was one among them.

Over the last seven years it has been difficult for independent journalists in Kashmir. What has changed in these seven years? This government implicates journalists in cases related to law and order. The FIRs take a lot of time (to contest). I have three criminal cases against me.

My arrest sent journalists a larger message: if you do not stop working as Sajad Gul did, you will also go where Sajad Gul was sent. It made them shiver. I see my colleagues not writing the way they used to, and I don't think they tweet the way they used to. Many have changed professions. Many have preferred silence. 

How did Fahad Shah and The Kashmir Walla support you during your time in jail, and what impact did his own imprisonment have on you and your family? 

Except for Fahad, my editor at the now-banned Kashmir Walla, there was no one to help me legally. There should have been organisations to support me, to help me fight my case. Except him, nobody ever reached out to offer me legal help. Had it not been for my mother, siblings and editor, I would have still been in jail. When he, too, was imprisoned, he still was fighting my case—from jail. I will remain grateful to him forever. I admire him a lot. Not only me, my family has a lot of respect for him for fighting the cases against me, even though he himself was in jail and his publication was blocked. The Kashmir Walla team visited my home many times. I only heard about it from my mother after my release. 

Fahad’s arrest hit me a lot. I was in jail when I heard he had been arrested. I couldn’t eat anything that night. It broke my family because it was Fahad who would look into my cases. Before he was sent to jail, he got me bailed out in 2 FIRs. Without Fahad the court battle was tough. My family knew nothing about it. It was all Fahad—who took my family to the deputy commissioner’s office in Bandipora to get the PSA dossier, and it was Fahad who hired a lawyer and took my family to court in Srinagar. He never left me alone on this journey. He visited me at my home after my release. We joked, and he advised me to not do anything that would land me in jail. I wish all editors were like Fahad.

How do you regard press freedom in Kashmir?

My arrest explains how free the press is in Kashmir. I think anybody who holds them (the government) accountable will go to jail. Our new chief minister, Omar Abdullah, has assured press freedom in his party manifesto. Let’s see how this is going to work. Will  journalists really have press freedom? It is unfortunate we get raided and arrested for doing journalism.

I plan to work as an independent journalist and finish my studies (Gul was studying convergent journalism at the Central University of Kashmir), which remained suspended after my arrest. I’ve often thought of quitting my profession, but I can't. It’s in my blood. But whenever I write stories, they harass my family. My family, sometimes, wants me to stop what I do or change my profession. 

How did your limited contact with your mother impact you during your time in jail, and what was your reaction when she finally met you?

I spoke to her only once through a jail telephone for just five minutes in these 910 days. I missed her more than anyone else. She couldn’t come to visit me in jail in Uttar Pradesh because her health was not good. I pleaded with authorities to allow me to talk with my mother, but I wasn't allowed. I really didn’t believe that she would be alive. She wept when she finally saw me. She met all the officers who were at the helm of power to request them to release me. Many promised, but nobody stood by their words until the court gave me bail. 

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