Jagmohan

“Hardly had I gone to bed when the two telephones at my bedside started ringing, almost continuously. At the other end, there were voices of alarm, of concern, of fright, sometimes muted voices of men too terror-stricken to speak. "Tonight is our last night," moaned one voice. "By morning, we -- all Kashmiri Pandits -- would be butchered," said another voice. "Send us aeroplanes; take us out of the Valley; evacuate us at night if you do not want to see our corpses in the morning," pleaded another. "Our womenfolk, our sisters, our mothers, would be abducted, and we menfolk slaughtered," shrieked yet another voice. Some callers told me that they would just hold on to their telephones so that I could hear the terrible slogans and exhortations that were emanating from hundreds of loudspeakers fitted on the mosques. The noises, they said, were deafening, and it appeared that a number of recorded tapes were being simultaneously played at a very loud pitch, causing horrible effects in resonance and permeating the atmosphere with terror and fear of imminent death.”
― Jagmohan, My Frozen Turbulence in Kashmir

“In between, there were telephone calls from the Ministry of Home Affairs. "Additional Home Secretary this side, Sir," was the worried voice. "We are getting frantic calls from Hindus in Srinagar. Hell seems to have broken loose. The Kashmiri Pandits are in utter panic. We cannot get any officer on the phone in Srinagar." There were a number of other panic telephone calls from New Delhi. I assured everybody that I was taking action.”
― Jagmohan, My Frozen Turbulence in Kashmir