Soothing souls in valley of trauma

<div class="section1"><div class="Normal">A group of boys is playing hide-n-seek in their usual playground... the tombstones in the graveyard effective cover. For the city has more graveyards than open spaces.<br /><br />Two girls are walking back from college. Suddenly one of them shudders and falls onto the ground in a dead faint. She has a condition called hysterical fainting, extinct in the rest of the world.There are thousands like her who faint for hours together, at any time.<br /><br />Alarmed? Don''t be. This is a regular day in the valley of Kashmir. For a city that has seen an astronomical rise in mental trauma patients from 1,700 in 1989 to 50,000 in 2000, playing in graveyards and fainting spells during the day are as common as the Army greens punctuating the city interiors every ten metres. Prompting one of the women''s groups to print a pamphlet that reads, "How khaki is my valley?"<br /><br />One of the first woman clinical psychologists to go to Kashmir and work with the traumatised women and children there for the last seven years, Kishwar Ahmed-Shirali shares her experiences in the ravaged state with the <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Chandigarh Times</span>.<br /><br />"In a place where the number of female patients is double that of the males, I was astounded to find only men doctors. While there were a few women gynaecologists, there wasn''t even one women healer to deal with the mental trauma victims. How does a woman open up to a man about problems like molestation, rape or even abuse, especially in a land where they have never been allowed to step outside homes without a <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">burka</span>?" Kishwar questions.<br /><br /></div> </div><div class="section2"><div class="Normal"><br />Having left a lecture''s job at Panjab University to follow her heart to the mountains, Kishwar started teaching psychology at the University of Shimla and spending part of her time living in nearby remote areas to seek out and help as many traumatised women as she could. It was in 1998 that she was first offered the opportunity to work in Kashmir. "The first summer there opened my eyes to the trauma women and children go through everyday. When I was asked to come back, I knew I had to go," she says. Working closely with a group called HELP – Human Effort for Love and Peace – and Shehjar, a shelter for special children who''re victims of violence, Kishwar is proud to admit that all it takes is compassion, understanding and confidence in their abilities to set trauma victims on the road to recovery.<br /><br />What essentially needs attention is the situation of the women who are kept cooped up in their homes.<br /><br />"These fainting spells are a result of the continuous claustrophobia they face behind locked doors. The lack of freedom feels like a tightening noose that results in a dead faint every now and then," she affirms.<br /><br />While Kishwar sees positive changes like lesser women covering their heads, more people on the streets, and a general wave of ‘we''ve had enough war, it''s time for peace'' in most hearts, there are certain changes that haven''t been for the better. "The divorce rates have become very high," she sighs.<br /><br />The hope still floats though, and Kishwar intends going back every year "till I have the energy and strength to!"</div> </div>