Net-journal of 'Project Zaan’ ÒççiççMç Praagaash · ÒççiççMç Praagaash For Private Circulation Only Dedicated to Our Heritage, Our Language and Our Culture Net-journal

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For Private Circulation Only

Dedicated to Our Heritage, Our Language and Our Culture

Net-journal of 'Project Zaan’

Jç<ç& 5 : DçbkçÀ 4 DçÒçÌuç 2020~ Vol 5 : No. 4 April 2020~

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Magnificient Harmukh, Kashmir (Elevation 5142 M) Photo @katoch104

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In this issue

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Cover - Magnificient Harmukh & Gangabal Lake 01

Editorial - M.K.Raina 02

03

Nadim Sahib : Onkar Aima- My Pleasant Rememberances 04

Agha-Bai of Zoona Dab : Bashir Arif- Last Moments of Marriyam Begum 07

Encounter with Reality : Manzoor Nawchoo- Sweet Dreams Turned Into Bitter Reality 08

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My Medical Journey : Dr. K.L.Chowdhury- An Old Remedy By An Old Hand 21

Poets & Poetesses : Prof. Kanwar K. KaulMaster Zinda Kaul - The Great Kashmiri Poet 24

Literature & Culture : Upender Ambardar- Sancha : Ancient Treasure of Himachal 25

Preserving Culture : Vishal Raina- Marriage Rituals of Kashmiri Pandits 28

Poetry : Dr Mudasir Firdosi- Book of Life 31

Saints & Sages : Ashok Dullu- Lalla Ded’s Married Life & Liberation 32

Short Story : Parineeta Khar- Radha, Rebecca & Raginia 36

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Profile - Our Shining Stars : M.K.Raina- Archana Kamath Hegdekar 43

Short Story : M.K.Raina- The Last Game 47

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Photo Feature 58

Letters to the Editor 59

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We are encouraged to see the

popularity of our Supplements withthe readers, first The Story of aBicycle (released with theF e b r u a r y 2 0 2 0 i s s u e o fPraagaash) and then the ZoonaDab (released with the March2020 issue of Praagaash). Notonly that people have read it withinterest but have also encouragedus with their written responses.Thanks Readers.

With some relaxation in the use of internetand social media in Jammu and Kashmir, our hopesof holding the Kashmiri Language Workshopsometime in May-June 2020 in Srinagar had greatlyrevived. Readers may be aware, the Workshop wasscheduled to be held in Srinagar on 24-25 August2019 but got cancelled due to abnormal politicaldevelopments. However, the Corona scare hasstopped us from taking any initiative in that directionfor the time being. We can only pray to Almighty tobless us and relieve us from the havoc we findourselves in.

In the meantime, I may share this news withmy readers. Jammu Kashmir Vichar Manch (JKVM),New Delhi has recently conferred the Krishan JooRazdan Saraswati Puraskar upon the undersignedfor his contribution to Kashmiri Language andCulture. It may be mentioned that the KashmirEducation, Culture and Science Society (KECSS),New Delhi and All India Kashmiri Samaj (AIKS), NewDelhi have already honoured the undersigned in2013 and 2015 respectively for his outstandingcontribution in the field of Kashmiri Language and

Literature. ��

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Project Zaan is the Literary Initiative of Kashmiri Pandits’ Association, Mumbai.Project Zaan is supported by Kashmiri Pandits’ Association, Mumbai.

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Nadim Sahib

My Pleasant Rememberances

- Onkar Aima

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Soon after the invasion of the Valley by Pakistan on 22ndOctober 1947, feudalism in Kashmir had spectacularcollapse, people's government was formed and along with ita great cultural upsurge unleashed. In 1948, Kashmir Cultural Front , anorganisation of all available artistic talent was formed. This organization waslater rechristened - The National Cultural Congress. Nadim Sahib (Dina NathNadim), was one of the leading organisers of the new cultural movement thatspearheaded Kashmiri cultural and literary renaissance. The cultural activitieswere revived, Kashmiri plays were written and staged, which were witnessedby thousands of people both on stage or open air stage. Nadim Sahib emergedthe tallest among the Kashmiri poets and playwrights. He gave newdimensions to Kashmiri poetry and plays. Heintroduced Blank Verse, Sonnet and Opera. In1950, I was able to form Amar Singh CollegeDramatic Club with the help and guidance ofPrincipal Mohammad Ahmed. Prof . Nazi rAhmed was in-charge of the Club and I waselected Secretary of the Club. 'Mahabharata' and'Ahuti' were staged by the Club in 1950 and1951. I played the lead in both plays. 'Ahuti' was agreat success. It was for the first time that the girlstudents of the college, acted in the play - 'Ahuti'.In 1952, I was Stage Director of the play -'Chataan' - staged by the Club. Tasting a little bit ofsuccess, I caught the acting and direction bugcraze - passion. I saw the plays staged in Kashmir. I read books, but I did not getthe feel of it - feel of stage craft.

In 1953, a meeting was held by Nadim Sahib at the residence of MohanLal Aima, my elder brother. I was asked to serve tea and thus a God givenchance to listen to Nadim Sahib. It is then, I learnt that they were staging, opera,‘Bombur Yambarzal’. He spoke calmly but like an expert on stage craft. Helistened to all, discussed it and rejected or adopted the suggestions on merit. Itis there I learnt that Aima Sahib was to compose the Music and direct the play.Nadim Sahib's Knowledge of stagecraft, his narration of the theme, the way heexpressed his feelings, struck me. I was drawn towards him. In anothermeeting later on at the same residence, while talking about stage playpresentation, he said something like this - Stage is a creative art in itself and notjust a duplicate of what literature (or Poems) say. I started having feel of thestage and its magic. I started reading his poems and plays. I had a burning

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desire to act in the opera. I did not get a chance. 'Bombur Yambarzal' was agreat success. The music of the opera was highly appreciated and the song‘Bombro-Bombro’ became very popular. Producer of the film ‘MissionKashmir’, Mr. Chopra, lifted the lyrics and tune of ‘Bombro Bombro’ from theoriginal opera, staged in 1953. It created sensation all over India and becamevery popular.

Ultimately my prayers were granted. In 1956, I got the chance to act in‘Heemal Nagirai’ written jointly by Nadim Sahib and Roshan Sahib. WhileKemmu Sahib choreographed its dances, the music was composed by AimaSahib and also directed by him. This opera like 'Bombur Yambarzal' was basedon one of our old folk tales - legends. It is said that in the village in Pulwama,there is a spring, known as 'Heemali hund Nag'. This is a very ancient folk tale,when Kashmir was inhabited by Nagas and Peechachis, who had constantstrife amongst them to establish supremacy over one another. Nagirai, princeof Nagas is fed up with his cunning queens and he emerges in the house of'Soda' and 'Chhore Baten' as a young boy. They accept him as their son. Iplayed the role of 'Chhore Baten' and Roshan that of Soda, 'Nagrai' falls in lovewith 'Heemal' and marries her. 'Koonah' is sent by Nagar to sow seeds ofsuspicion in 'Heemal's' mind. He suceeds. The efforts of 'Nagirai' to finishanimosity and hatred between his people and Peechachis, to have peace inKashmir are wasted. In the end with the help of a hermit, Heemal and Nagiraimeet. Their efforts, their sacrifice and their love ultimately awakens both sides.Hatred and animosity are washed off and peace prevails in Kashmir. While'Bombur tu Yambarzal' depicted triumph of good over evil, 'Heemal andNagirai' depicted victory of love and human spirit. Nadim Sahib had keen earfor sound and rhythm of his native language. He andAima Sahib made an idealcombination and produced one more stirring opera, rich in tantalizing music,which is important and dominating element of opera, to create emotionalimpact. Shadow technique, was successfully used in the opera which madenarration striking. During making of 'Heemal Nagirai' I got more and morechance to meet, watch, know and understand Nadim Sahib.

Both the operas, mentioned above are based on old, ancient folk tales.Perhaps he was fascinated by these tales and had a feeling that these are likevoices of our ancestors which come to us from sources of our culture and thusshould be respected.

More I saw Nadim Sahib, more I met him, more I read him, I understoodand realised that he was simplicity personified:-a. Simple Clothes ... unfussyb. Simple Life ... humble ... lowlyc. Simple Language ... straight forward .. plain effortlessd. Simple Presentation ... (Operas) ... direct ... unvarnished.

Two things which I marked very keenly about Nadim Sahib were his smileand his expression of eyes. He had a permanent striking and smoothing smileon his face. His eyes, I felt sincerely, were speaking eyes.- penetrating.

After reading Nadim Sahib, it does not need great effort to conclude thathis great success lies in his mastery of Kashmiri Language. Nadim Sahib, the

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brilliant Kashmiri intellectual enriched his work with simple, Kashmiri wordsand phrases. He established that, language of everyday speech, is rich andadaptable for a poetic medium, and does not need to deck itself in borrowedrobes. He conveyed ideas most beautifully in simple day to day spokenlanguage and caught the imagination of literate or illiterate Kashmiri. He usedthe language, which a commoner understood, felt, was touched and dididentify with. That made him the most significant poet and opera writer of theperiod. His favorite - preferred poem was ‘Me chham aash pagahuch’, as saidby him to Mr.Saqi in a conversation. This poem was his faith, his belief. Hebelieved in universal love - oneness of mankind - peace. In spite of all theturmoil, he had strong faith in tomorrow. Never say die was his motto.

This poem ‘Me chham aash pagahuch’ is my mood lifter. Whenever I amdejected and depressed by the happenings in the Valley and about the plight ofmy community, I read this poem again and again. It is sad and unfortunate thatthis poem could not be put on - or on any folk tune - because it ismusic of ideas, not of words. It would have been, I believe, as popular as‘Bombro Bombro’or perhaps more.Nadim Sahib became a legend. He is no more with us. yet I see him on thetop of the Banihal mountain. I see him sometimes facing Valley and singing‘Vothee Baaguch Kukilee’. Some other time I see him facing sky saying ‘

It is a faint voice. I cannot hear it clearly. Perhaps he is saying

Yet again, at times I see him facing Jammu and Delhi and singing ‘. During all this scene, I see him

alone, without any alive member of his old trusted team, on either side ofBanihal, responding to his voice. Perhaps they have withdrawn themselvesinto a shell or perhaps their priorities have changed. Yet I am not disillusioned. Imay not live to see the day, but Nadim Sahib's dream morning will come true, alldarkness will disappear, violence will go, hatred will vanish. Love and Peacewill prevail.

Chhakree

Bugyava na az’.

:

Mechham aash pagahuch, pagaah sholi duniyaah’

[ The author Onka Aima Sahib was the hero of first Kashmiri filmMaanziraat. He acted in Hindi films and TV serials too. He was a foundingmember of Project Zaan of Mumbai and a great social worker. This write-upappeared in Milchar of KPA Mumbai April-June 2002. Aima Sahib left us in theyear 2002.]

Note:

(Bu tarna voni Kasheeri)totaani yotaani nu iraaduh myani beyi asanlasan tu basan, tu rathi khasi muraad myani

so toth myon nundabon baag sonyohoy panun panun vatan

yi beyi vuchhanaabaad aazaad tu kwosh yivun

bahaar hyoo tu lov lokachaar hyoo

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Fمود�ه �وهنو پران قران

سو گوئے �وهنہ پران قران �د�ه �يتهہ زهند� پران قران

منصو د�د پران قران

�

amous Sufi saint of Kashmir says:

This piece of eternal poetry of Sheikh-ul-Aalam was too heavy for me to beunderstood. It was only after the great andself made lady MarriyamBegum left this world forheavenly abode at theJammu residence of heryounger son KhurshidAhmad (Saeba) who wasposted there.

After her retirementf r o m R a d i o K a s h m i rSrinagar she was shifting toDelhi or Jammu to be withher children during winters.That fateful winter she wasat Jammu. As a daily routineshe after offering Fajjar(morning) prayers startedreading Quraan. In themeantime her daughter-in-law got a cup ofKashmiri qehwa for her. Marriyam ji askedher to leave it there to let it cool andcontinued reading Quraan.

After some time her daughter-in-lawcame again and asked her to have theqehwa first. She got annoyed after shesaw Marriyam ji in a different posture. Shehad put her head on the holy book Quraan.

Last moments of Marriyam Begum

- The Agha-Bai of Zoona Dab

By Bashir Arif

Her daughter-in-law returned angrily andcomplained to her husband that hismother had gone crazy and that she hadno respect for Quraan. She also said if hismother felt like sleeping, she should havegone to her room and rested properly.

Khurdshid, Marriyam’s son rushedto the room with little anger. "Bobai yeechha karan. yeh chhu gonah Quraanas

peth yithe paeth kala trawun."(Mother, this is a sin to behavelike this while reading Quraan)There was no reply. He tried towake her up but alas she hadalready breathed her last. Thecup of Qehwa was still on herright side. Her death came asa blow to me as she wouldlove me ike a real mother.

Marriyam Begum playedthe role of Radio mother forme for 22 long years. Andwhile saying good bye to thisworld, she translated theShaikh-ul-Aalam's poeticmarvel in virtual sense and the

meaning brought this piece of eternalpoetry as a reality for us.

Dear Maryam Ji, I am sure you mustbe enjoying the choicest comforts in thechoicest heaven. We will miss you till weare carrying the burden of this mortalworld.

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Encounter with Reality - Er. Manzoor Nawchoo

Sweet Dreams Turned Into Bitter Reality

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It was a very soothing early morningwhen I along with my wife was strolling in thelush green lawns of our house and breathingfresh morning air blended with the fragranceof different types of flowers in full bloom,making the atmosphere mesmerizing andpollution free.

Though our residential colony has nogrown up plantation in and around ourresidential premises being newly promotedbut on one of its sides where there is a vastcamp of Border Security Force located on ahigher contour than our colony contours, hadbeen got decorated by way of fixing ofdifferent colour artificial flower bunting andthe trees standing in the middle of its lawnsdecorated with electric illumination on theoccasion of Dusehra giving a civilian look tothe camp which otherwise is having acompletely military atmosphere. As usual

there was early morningdrill going on to the tunes ofthe military band followedby laughter therapy givento the BSF personnelwhich makes the dawningdown of the day moreenthusiastic and energetic.

Suddenly there wasa big bang which shatteredour house and my sweet dream came to an

end abruptly. I felt shivers going down myspine. I heard my wife murmuring somethingwith fear and agony inaudible to me. Hersound sleep was also suddenly broken. It wasexactly 4.15 AM in our wall clock. Althoughthere was a lull for sometime it followed by aburst of firing which frightened both of us.

Since the firing intermittently continued,we sensed something was going wrong in theBSF Camp premises adjoining our colony. Werushed down to ground floor taking shelter forsafety if anything worst than that wouldhappen. Our bed room in the first floor and staircase of the house faced the camp, it was verydangerous to rush down amid firing as in such

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situations most of the bullets stray away andhit innocent and unaware targets.

As under such circumstances oneforgets worldly attractions and thinks of nextworld only, we also surrendered to Almightyand stood for offering Fajr Salah ( morningprayers) after we crawled up to the washroomfor ablution (Wadu) though it was also risky toreach the washroom. Upon the developmentof such a situation, one really realizes the

weaknesses of a human being who fears forlife and pins hope on the Might of AlmightyWho is the Savior but comprehends it only inadverse conditions.

While we were offering the prayers,some more strong blasts with loud bangshappened, followed by firing but it caused nofear to us as we were standing in front of AllahWho is merciful to give us strength and infusemore faith in us to rely upon Him under suchlife threatening conditions.

Around 6.30 AM there was completecalm for some time which encouraged us toprepare our breakfast as fear had made usmore hungry than usual. Our kitchen was onthe rear side of our house, not a direct targetfrom BSF Camp. It was astonishing for me tosee my wife having prepared the breakfast infull comprising of bread toasts, low fat butter,three number boiled eggs sprinkled with salt &pepper but with yoke in such adverseconditions. Daring to ask my wife the reasonsfor not serving yokeless eggs that time she

replied that cholesterol doesn't go high due tofear. It looked like a good medical reason. Ivehemently agreed to her as I had been veryfond of yoke in my younger days and thought itwas right time to take it at last. During thisrespite I murmured a Kashmiri couplet “Jaanwandi yu jaani jaanano” which would meankilling one's own self for the living. My wifewould murmur ‘Touba Takseer’ for askingpardon from Allah for any sins committed byus.

To know what exactly was happening,we switched on our TV and were aghast toread breaking news which read ‘Fidayeenattack on BSF Camp near Srinagar Airport.

Image : Economic Times

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Immediately there were continuous grenadeblasts followed by uninterrupted firing whichagain shook our house and we felt as if glasspanes of our windows were getting shattered.It was more frightening and threatening thanbefore. It was so severe that we lied down onthe floor covering our heads with our arms andhands while not bothering about rest part ofour bodies, though our postures were veryawkward if adored during normal times. Werecited Quranic verses relevant to thesituation which virtually took us to next worldwithout any fear and forgetting our children,kith and kin. Property was no considerationand concern during such a battlefield likesituation. I felt frequent necessity of urinationwhich as per medical education happens infearful situations with a human being. Goingto washroom many a times was like amarathon crawl for me. After every urination Iwent for ablution to make myself ready and fitfor going to the next world at least neat andclean. Thank God I didn't feel loose motion asit happenes in such a situation. I still wonderhow my wife didn't get it? She had in factresisted without any complaint as opposed tomen, being a complete woman made oftolerance, patience and strength by her birth.

With every blast we would cry ‘Allah-u-Akbar’ which we do less in normal conditions.Though very fearful, every blast would makeus to come closer to each other for going from

this world with our hand in hand which wouldlook pleasant to our Allah taking us as avirtuous couple from earth but knowing betterthe ins and outs of a human being. No matterwe live in separate rooms during a discord onany trifles and flimsy grounds vowing not to livein one room any more but for slow and steadypatch up happening naturally. Here I recollecthow two enemy neighbours would rescueeach other during 2014 floods but againresorted to animosity immediately after itsrecede taking no lessons from it.

However we (me & my wife) took manylessons, sufficiently and permanently, fromthis horrifying Fidayeen attack in ourneighbourhood.

In the meanwhile calls from our relativesand friends started coming on our cell phonesand land-line which infused some life in ouralmost motionless bodies. It provided us anopportunity to ask forforgiveness from themfor anything if donewrong by us withthem. It was bothemotional as well asreligious. I am sureAllah was both smilingand taking pity uponus after seeing ourtotal submission toHim (swt).

Since the frequency and severity of bigbang blasts and uninterrupted firing increased,we took shelter inone of the rearr o o m s i n t h eground floor. In them e a n t i m e w eheard the sound ofvehicle movementon our co lonyroads which madeus more anxiousa s w e r i g h t l y

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sensed presence of armed forces in ourcolony. The clock was reading 12 O'Clock. Asmy wife is somewhat more brave than me, sheventured to go up to the first floor with herhead down shielding it from expected bulletswith her Dupatta and peeped out of a windowdespite my warnings and good bye. Howevershe encouraged me also to go up and see formyself the situation outside. It was veryhorrible to see forces having taken positionsat different strategic points made by them and

facing the BSF Camp pointing their gunstowards it. A bullet proof vehicle waspositioned exactly in front of gate of our houseand some personnel had taken position in oneof our neighbouring houses closer to campthan ours. It made us sure that some big fightbetween the forces and the militants wasensuing which could result in collateraldamages including blasting of our houses andloss of our lives.

We immediately rushed down and tookour positions in the same room while thinkingof any chances of our survival or smoothsailing to the next world. Suddenly the severityof gun fight again increased and we decidednot to pick up our phones which would transmithorrible firing sounds to our well wishers.

After all at around 1.15 PM the bellbutton at the gate of our house was pushed bythe forces and the bell inside buzzed whichcreated many apprehensions in our minds.We had no choice but to go out and open thegate. We went out together as we thought wemight get hit outside now for sure and wantedto die together. We made it to the gate likesoldiers while crawling over the path upto thegate amidst blasts and firing which was luckilyof moderate intensity. While sitting on the sill ofthe gate we were asked by the forces to leavethe house immediately as fight was probablygoing to get prolonged and severe. It wasconsoling as well as apprehensive for us. Butwe preferred to leave the colony which we didafter locking our house and its gate. But thenlocking our house didn't matter for the forceswho told us that in case of emergency theymight still enter it. We had no answer.

As our car was incidentally outside ourhouse for the night for no reasons, we jumpedinto it and drove away first in reverse for somedistance then straight with high speed. Whilefleeing, my mind went to war torn zones in the

world where helpless people run for theirsafety bare foot with their small children ontheir shoulders, never to return to theirravaged towns and homes. They die of hungerin open fields with no shelter. I pay many

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thanks to Allah for taking pity on us for nothaving created us among such unfortunatepeople. But I know that such unfortunatepeople exist in our state also whose housesget blasted to ashes and rubble and areneglected even by their immediate neighbors,not to talk of NGOs or charity foundations.

We had to take a long detour of about 6Kms to reach my sister's house at Pirbagh,about 1.50 Kms from our place. They werethrilled and excited to receive us alive, heartyand healthy not asking about the fate of ourhouse and belongings. It was like a reunionwith our dear ones after getting free from ahostage trap with our life and property at risk.They hugged and kissed us with joyful tearsrolling down from their eyes including ours tohave got new lease of life.

In the evening after flashing of goodnews by different TV Channels about theculmination of the encounter, we went back toour colony with some apprehensions aboutthe safety of our houses and life there.Alhamdulillah, we were very happy to knowthat no collateral damages in the surroundingvicinity of the camp including our colony hadhappened. Yes, some houses in the colony atsome distance from the camp, were hit byshells and splinters piercing tin roofs andshattering window panes.

It showed to us that the areas distantfrom camp site are more vulnerable than the

areas in its close proximity.Immediately after entering our house, I

went to my neighbors to know their welfare.Naturally they too had been asked to flee thecolony like us which was a safety measuretaken by the forces for averting any humanloss.

My salute to all the brave people living inour colony, and high appreciations for theforces to have acted so professionallybecause of which no collateral damage wascaused to our lives and property. It washeartening to know there was no human losscaused to the forces also as a result of theirmilitary professionalism, though their enemywas hidden but close to their chest.

It was amazing when some officers ofthe BSF Camp came to our colony forenquiring about our welfare and great escapefrom a highly threatening situation. Itenhanced our confidence in living close to thesecurity camp. After all men in uniform arehumans with humane values if insulated fromdirty politics.

Contact author at:[email protected]

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Praagaash18



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To Praagaash Readers :

[email protected]

We are trying hard to bring you Kashmirimaterial in both scripts, i.e. Nastaliq as wellas Devanagari. Our aim is to help you inevery possible way (which means a lot oflabour on our part) so that you are able toread the Kashmiri literature if you know atleast one of the two scripts. If you don’tknow both, it is unfortunate. For learning,send a mail to:

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Praagaash19



Born at Khrew Shaar,Pampore, Wahab Khaar wasa great Sufi poet of 19thcentury. His year of birth is notexactly known but it isbelieved that he died in theyear 1910. He is believed tohave lived for about a hundredyears. Wahab Khaar was thedesciple of Sabir Sahib, agreat Sufi Poet himself.Wahab Khaar’s father HaitKhaar was also a Sufi saintand poet.

Wahab Khaar is said tohave spent most of his time inthe company of Faqeers. Thename itself reveals that hew a s a b l a c k s m i t h b yprofession. He was also afarmer and a singer. He washandsome and his earningsallowed him to wear costlyclothes and live a comfortablelife in a time when people ofKashmir were living in badcondition and could not evenfulfill their daily requirements.

It is said that WahabKhaar smoked Charas attimes. He was married to apious lady named Rehmatwho assisted and served himwhole life.

[Source: facebook.com]

Wahab Khaar

Praagaash20



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Born at Khrew Shaar,Pampore, Wahab Khaar wasa great Sufi poet of 19thcentury. His year of birth is notexactly known but it isbelieved that he died in theyear 1910. He is believed tohave lived for about a hundredyears. Wahab Khaar was thedesciple of Sabir Sahib, agreat Sufi Poet himself.Wahab Khaar’s father HaitKhaar was also a Sufi saintand poet.

Wahab Khaar is said tohave spent most of his time inthe company of Faqeers. Thename itself reveals that hew a s a b l a c k s m i t h b yprofession. He was also afarmer and a singer. He washandsome and his earningsallowed him to wear costlyclothes and live a comfortablelife in a time when people ofKashmir were living in badcondition and could not evenfulfill their daily requirements.

It is said that WahabKhaar smoked Charas attimes. He was married to apious lady named Rehmatwho assisted and served himwhole life.

[Source: facebook.com]

Wahab Khaar

My Medical Journey - Dr. K.L.Chowdhury

An Old Remedy By An Old Hand

Father had diarrhoea for two days. Therewas no pain, vomiting or fever. He felt quiteweak. Frequent visits to the toilet, which wasacross the veranda from his bedroom,exhausted him. I prescribed pthalylsulfathalazole, the drug in vogue fordiarrhoea. However, on the third morning,when I walked into his room to find out how hehad fared during the night, he looked at mewith an expression of boredom and concern –a look that also seemed to say, “Hey son, yourtreatment doesn't seem to help!”

I empathized with him. Father was notused to lying in bed during day time. After hehad argued his last case of the day in thecourts, he would rush home to be with family.He liked his evening tea served in the gardenwhere he always found work to do with theplants. Inside, he enjoyed reading books or

p l a y i n g p a t i e n c e ,asking mother for a cupof kehva now and then,moving out again intothe lawn for shortstrolls. To be deprivedof this luxury for twodays was intolerable.He had grown weary ofthe bed and craved forhis office and garden.

“Is there no other medicine in yourpharmacopoeia that might help reduce myforays to the toilet?” he asked, as I sat by hisside. His tone was more of a plea for help thana grievance.

“I feel we should give it till tomorrow,father,” I replied in an assuring tone.

The year was nineteen sixty seven. Infact, by then, there was hardly much in thepharmacopoeia for acute diarrhoeas beyondpthalyl sulfathalazole, and clioquinol, a widelyprescribed drug which was later withdrawnbecause long time use caused seriousneurological side effects. Since most acutediarrhoeas are self limiting, treatment wasmostly empirical, fluids being the mainstay inthe management, even as oral re-hydrationtherapy was unknown then. Some doctorsprescribed other palliatives and bowel binders.

Father was not dehydrated. I ensuredthat he drank plenty of fluids – limewater,tea. Mother crushed and and cookedthem to serve him with rice. She made soup ofsoybeans that was a staple for loose motions. Iwas not overly worried, and left for my work.That evening, I returned from the hospitalstraight to father's bedroom to inquire how hehad progressed during the day. He wore a faintgrin and gestured with a gentle shake of his

lassi,hak palak

Praagaash21



Pt Jia Lal Chowdhury(father of Dr. K.L.Chowdhury)

Praagaash22



head that said, “I know you are trying yourvery best, but it doesn't seem to work.”

I moved near him, felt his pulse, lookedat the skin turgor, checked his blood pressureand palpated his abdomen. Everything feltnormal. The frequent visits to the toilet hadcer ta in ly rendered h im weak anddemoralized. I was reminded of a seniorcolleague who never failed to warn us of thechallenges and heartaches of treating yourown family. But I started practice on my ownpeople and have continued it ever since.

I cancelled my evening clinic anddecided to spend time with father, to give himcompany and help lift his spirits. I askedAshok, our domestic help, to serve tea infather's bed room. Meanwhile, I engaged himin a game of rummy. We sat sipping tea andchatting, when Pandit Gopi Nath dropped by.He was the head dispenser at theGovernment Chest Disease Hospital, and rana private evening pharmacy where he treatedpatients suffering from common ailments. Hehad been our neighbour and family doctorwhen we lived at Rajveri Kadal. Four yearsearlier, in the spring of 1963, we had moved toBarbarshah Road, but he often paid us a visitbecause of his long association with fathereven as he had ceased to be the familyphysician. Since I graduated, the mantle oftreating my kin fell on me, and never was GopiNath consulted again. In fact, it was time topay back; I was his family physician now. I wasthe first qualified medical graduate from theneighbourhood. I had also specialized as aninternist, and word had spread that since I wasapprenticed to the legendary Dr.Ali Jan, someof his skills must have rubbed off on me.

Gopi Nath was dressed in a shirt,pyjama, vest and turban. Born with a squint,he was of lean built, calm demeanour, softspeech. He was a perfect gentleman and theepitome of a healer in our childhood days.

Father beamed with joy on seeing him.“Look who is here!” he exclaimed.

They exchanged pleasantries, andfather related the details of his illness whenGopi Nath asked why he was in bed.

“I am sure you will recover soon,” hesaid, and, after a pause, “you don't have toworry; you are in the very good hands of yourworthy son.”

A cup of tea was poured for Gopi Nath; ahot served on a plate. Father passedhim the hookah and he started pulling atleisure, spewing jets of smoke through hisnostrils, looking pensively at the floor.

Gopi Nath spent a full hour with fatherwhile I consumed tea and read the newspaper.They talked about old times at Rajveri Kadal,about their younger days, about their childrenand about the political climate. In themeanwhile, father paid two visits to the toilet.When he lay in bed again, he looked at GopiNath and addressed him endearingly, “Hey,Gupa, how about writing me a prescription likeold times?”

Gopi Nath was nonplussed. He pulled

telwaroo

Pt. Gopi Nath Bhan

Praagaash23



harder at the hookah, looking uncomfortablyfrom father to me and back. Father lookedaway from me, suddenly realizing that hemight have inadvertently annoyed me byasking Gopi Nath for a prescription when hewas already under my care.

There was an awkward silence. I knewfather did not mean to slight me. He spokeinstinctively, just at the spur of the moment,and from the tedium and exhaustion of havingto visit the rest room repeatedly.After all, GopiNath had been his physician all throughbefore I came into the picture.

Gopi Nath had been our familyphysician as far back as I could rememberand had treated us often for colds andcoughs, fevers and body aches, abdominalpains and diarrhoeas. He was a fatherlyfigure, always kind, considerate, and affable.He would visit us whenever we were downwith fever, prescribe his mixtures and, as wasthe practice those days, enforce a fast untilthe fever subsided even as we pined for food.Pointing to the hill across my window, hewould say, “Get well soon, my boy; you haveto be strong enough to carry me on your backyonder to Hari Parbat hill. That will be my feefor getting you well.”

How could I feel offended if this genialfamily physician and friend wrote the formulahe prescribed for us so often in our childhood?I did not remember having been let down byhis mixtures even once. I fondly recalled thehalf pint bottles in which his assistant woulddispense the mixture after reading out theingredients from his prescription, measuringportions from large one-litre jars of varioustinctures, spirits, and extracts. Then, he wouldpaste a strip of paper cut in six smallhexagonal shapes on one side of the bottle upto the level of the fluid. One hexagondesignated one dose. The bottle would lasttwo to three days. Sometimes a refill wasnecessary. Tinctures of belladonna, opium,cinnamon, cardamom, etc were the usual

ingredients in the mixtures for diarrhoea,abdominal pain and distension.

I addressed Gopi Nath reverentially, “It isfine if we try your prescription on father. Afterall, you know his system for decades; I know itonly for six years.”

He pulled harder at the hookah, lookinguncertainly at me through the cloud of smoke.His squint became more pronounced.

There was a long, uncomfortablesilence.

I shouted for Ashok and asked him tofetch my prescription pad and pen.

Gopi Nath looked at me, embarrassed. “Iam sure he will be fine with the medicine youhave prescribed. It takes three to four days fordiarrhoea to settle in his case. He should bewell by tomorrow,” he commiserated.

Ashok came with a pad and pen. Ihanded it over to Gopi Nath.

“Please write the prescription,” I askedgently, earnestly.

Reluctantly, he set the hookah aside,took the pen and the pad, wrote carefully,legibly, slowly, and handed it over to meuncertainly. Without reading it, I passed it on toAshok and asked him to buy the mixture fromthe local pharmacy.

Gopi Nath stood up to take our leave.“Hey, Gupa, what would you say tofor my dinner. That is what you usedrecommend in these situations,” father askedhim.

Gopi Nath looked at me.I knew that father fancied , a

popular curry made with yoghurt and gramflour. Mother had a special recipe.

I looked back at Gopi Nath and smiled inaffirmation.

“Yes, that would be fine with you,” GopiNath replied, nodding his head in approval andwishing father a speedy recovery.

As I walked with Gopi Nath to see him off,

dodie kaer

dodie kaer


Praagaash24



Master Zinda KaulThe Great Kashmiri Poet - Prof. Kanwar K. Kaul

Some less known anecdotes from his life

Reverently addressed as 'Masterji', as ateacher at Schools in Kashmir, Master ZindaKaul was a poet and wrote in Kashmiri, Urdu,Persian, Hindi and English. He started writingin 1942 and excelled in Kashmiri devotionalpoetry. His famous ‘Simran’ is evidence inpoint. He was a recipient of the SahityaAcademy national literary award in 1956.

My father's highly respected teacherand mentor at school, Masterji, would often beamong the honored guests at our home. Hewas a teacher 'par excellence' and wasreferred to by the English residents in Kashmiras 'Zinda the translator' for his command of theEnglish language and the ability to translate itinto vernacular. He had a keensense of wit and humor. He usedto do yogic exercises, one ofwhich was standing on his head

Once he slippedin this posture and hurt his neck.When people asked him how hehad hurt himself he did not wish toreveal that he indulged in thisexercise, yet he would never tell alie. His answer was he was on his' (which in Kashmiri means'head' as well as 'stairs'), and fell.He let people believe that he fellon the stairs.

A rich Persian visitingKashmir, Mr Shirazi, had a medicalproblem and sought my father's advice. Duringhis conversation with him, my father gave himan account of Kashmiri language and thecontribution of 'Farsi' (Persian) to it. He toldhim that Kashmir had produced some Persianpoets and quoted from who washard of hearing and wrote with a pun uponwords using the word which in Persian,means deaf as well as God's grace and mercy.

(Shirsha aasan).

heir'

Parmanand

karam

In his prayer to God,Permanand complains to Him s a y i n g “ Iprayed for your blessings and not to make medeaf.”

While quoting the poet, my fathermisquoted the term ' andinstead said .' Mr Shirazipointed out that the verses were not balanced(in weight). Disappointed, my father went toMasterji and narrated the story. Masterji'sprompt and witty comment was 'how could thetwo lines of the verse be balanced in scalewhen you put a (maund-measure of

weight) in the second line!”Masterji bore hardships in

life and served as a teacher andlater as a clerk. Once travelling ina 'Doonga' (boat), the ' ' hewas eating with rice was too spicyhot. Without complaining to thehost he would quietly dip it in theriver to dilute it and then eat it -such was his humility. Yet atanother occasion at home, thechutney he was served with foodhad no salt. Complaining to hismother, she apologized “

. InKashmiri written in the Urdu/

Persian script, the last alphabet in ' isand without this last alphabet it readswhich in Kashmiri means helplessness

or compulsion. He promptly retorted inKashmiri: Such prompt retortsare possible only from intellectuals. People domake remarks, but such quick, prompt andwitty humor is rare.

Hami guftan ki mara karam kunNa mee guftan ki mara karam kun

na mee guftan''na mun guftan

'mun'

Haakh

balailaguy noon gome mashit”

'chetin'noon''Chet'

“teli gai chet'.

Contact author at : [email protected]

Praagaash25



Literature & Culture - Upender Ambardar

Sancha - Ancient Treatise of Himachal

A Glorious Gift from Kashmir

The cross Cultural-religious strands thatstretched between Kashmir and HimachalPradesh successfully withstood the centuriesold time-wrap and refused to fade-away intooblivion. Apart from the natural brilliance ofthe landscapes, both states share the deep-rooted faith of the people in the time testedtraditions, belief systems and ancientwisdom, which are enshrined in the holyscriptures. They form an integral part of ourcommon heritage.

The ancient Sancha scripture ofHimachal Pradesh is an illustrious example ofthe same. It is a combination of Jyotish andtantric knowledge. Even today, in the presentscientific age, this ancient pricelessknowledge is quite popular in Shimla, Sirmourand Solan areas of Himachal Pradesh. The'Sancha Granth' is believed to have travelledto Himachal Pradesh from Kashmir hundredsof years back. The present day custodians ofthis ancient legacy, who are natives ofHimachal Pradesh are believed to be thedescendants of Kashmiri Brahmans. The'Sancha' treatise is aunique combination of' ( s a c r e dincantations), ' '(hallowed implements)and ' ' (mysticalhymns or invocations).The scripts of Sanchatreatise are known byt h e n a m e s o f

M a n t r aYantra

Tantra

In the times bygone Kashmir excelled in many spheres of art, literature andculture, in which it achieved great heights.

' ' or ' ',w h i c h a r e H i m a c h a l ivariations of ' ', thea n c i e n t l a n g u a g e o fKashmir. In earlier times, thesaid script was also knownas 'Takri'.

In Himachal Pradesh,in addition to 'Bhatakshri'and 'Pabuchi', the ancient'Takri' dialect has survived inmany resembling forms like ' ',' ' ' and ' ' etc., whichare the present day spoken dialects ofChamba, Kallu Mandi and Sirmour areas ofHimachal Pradesh. In earlier times, thescholarly and learned Himachali Brahmanswere known as ' ' due to theirdemonstrative grip and hold over the ancient'Sancha' knowledge.

The 'Sancha' growth deals with a widerange of topics ranging from necromancy,black magic fall-out from the witchcraft, occulteffects and negative influences of evil spirits

besides demonology.The 'Sancha' text offerssolutions and remediesto the persons who aretroubled by the negativeinfluences of the above.In addition to it, all thosepersons , who aresaddled by anxietiesand worries arising out

Bhatakshri Pabuchi

Shardha

ChambyaliKalluvi Mandyali Sirmouri

Pabuch

Praagaash26



of afflictions by various ailments can findhealth assuring remedies by consulting'Sancha' system.

The 'Sancha' treatise also guarantees atriumph over one's 'hidden' enemies byrecitation of certain ' ' i.e. secretincantations.

Its help is also sought in adopting areligious recourse to the matters connectedwith almost all the Hindu right frombirth to death. In addition to it, 'Sancha'knowledge also aids in the recovery of stolenitems by giving clues and hints about theidentity of the thief, the time of the occurrenceof the theft and number of persons involved inthe act. An accurate and exact knowledge ofthe auspicious timing or ' ' is also possibleby consulting 'Sancha' text.

The word 'Sancha' owes it's origin to theSanskrit word ' ' or ' ', whichmeans a repository or a compilation.

The Brahmans well-versed with the'Sancha' knowledge are called 'Pabuch' or' '. In addition to 'Pabuchi' or 'Bhatakshri'dialects, the 'Sancha' texts are also found in' ', ' ' and ' 'dialects.

The script employed by the Brahmansof the 'Panda' sect is called 'Pandvani', whileas the inscription used by the Brahmans of the'Bhat' sect is known by the name of'Bhatakshri'.According to a legend, an ancientruler of the erstwhile Sirmour Kingdom cameunder the spell of a curse by a female dancer.As a consequence, the capital of the ancientkingdom of Sirmour was completelysubmerged under water and the royaltybecame kingless.

Depressed by the loss of entire royalclan and to ensure a new heir to the Sirmourthrone, two ministers of the Kingdom namelyRoymoan and Roy Gopal are said to havetravelled all the way from Sirmour to Srinagar,the capital of Kashmir in the eleventh centuryA.D.

mantras

Sanskars

Hora

Sanch Sanchai

Baat

Chandvani Pandvani Butakhshri

The two Sirmour ministers are believed tohave requested the then Kashmir King to senda Kashmiri Prince, who can take charge of theSirmour Kingdom.

According to the legend, out of the twoqueens of the then Kashmiri King, one had anadopted son, whileas the second one namedSumitra was in a family way at that time. Inpursuance of the then prevalent bestowal ofalms custom, the King of Kashmir agreed tosend his pregnant queen in the form of 'ShayaDaan' to the princely state of Sirmour. Infurtherance of it and to facilitate thesubsequent coronation of the Kashmiri Princeas a King of Sirmour, the queen Sumitra ofKashmir went to Sirmour. She wasaccompanied by a host of , saints,learned Brahmans, bards, artists andministrels, in addition to numerous footmenand domestics. The accompanying KashmiriBrahmans are said to have carried with themtheir prized possession the 'Sancha'knowledge system. In the historicaldocuments of Himachal, this notable event isrecorded in the following lines "Loia AanaMangtoo,

h." It fully affirms and supports thehistorical fact that the carriers of the 'Sancha'treatise or knowledge to Himachal Pradeshwere none other than the Kashmiri Pandits.Corresponding to the above Vikram ,the exact year of the said event can be said tobe 1095AD.

The Kashmiri origin of the 'Sancha'treatise is further collaborated by the fact thateven today before consulting the 'Sancha' text,Himachali Brahmans pay obeisance toKashmir in the following lines, "Vidhya SuriKashmiri Lagan ".

The Sancha Granth has a detailedinformation about astrology, planetaryplacements, interpretation of Zodiac andplanetary movements. Based on the intricateknowledge of 'Sancha Granth', the 'Pabuchi'

Rishis

Purohit Sath Loia Aana Raoy BaatLoia Aana Vikram Samvat Saat thi todi 1152Mahina Mag

Samvat

dekh Shodan Vichar

Praagaash27



scholars prepare a local variation of almanac( ) called ' '. The three importantcomponents of 'Chri' are ' ' i.e. day of theweek or an occasion, ' ' i.e. a lunar day ordate and the planetary movements and theirpositions.

The ' ' is based on the solarplanetary system, which regards Baisakhi asthe first day of the New Year. To get solutions,answers and remedies for the differentparadoxes that rock the day to day life, the'Sancha' text is always consulted for therequired help. Resembling a gambling dice,the 'pasha' or ' ' is employed indeciphering the required information from the'Sancha' text. The 'pasha' or 'pasa' has aninscription of four numerical digits marked as0,00,000 and 0000, which have thecorresponding numerical strength of 1,2,3and 4 respectively.

These numerical digits are marked onthe individual pages separately. Eachnumerical digit with an individual value ofsixteen ' ' make a sum total of sixty four'Horas', with one 'Hora being equal to onetwenty fourth part of a day.

The 'Pashas' or 'Pasa' are speciallyprepared only on auspicious days and involveelaborate religious rituals. The different'Horas' that are in-vogue in the 'SanchaGranth' are known as ' Hora',' Hora', ' ' and'Tithi Ki Hora' etc. The square shaped 'pasha'or 'pasa' is usually made up of an elephanttooth, being 1½ to 2 inches in length and witha width of a finger.

According to a belief in Sirmour area,the 'Yantra' and 'Lagans' made from the soilbrought from the village Chanan, give betterresults while consulting Sancha' text. TheBrahmans engaged in the 'Sancha'profession take every care to maintain theknowledge secrecy and imparting of it'sknowledge is confined only within the family.

The Kashmiri origin of the 'Sancha' text

Jantri ChriVar

Tithi

Chiri

pasa

Horas

KaalgaymiBhoot Prashan Lagan Ki Hora

'

has also been acknowledged by Sh.Sudershan Vashisht, who is a well knownauthor and researcher of Himachal Pradeshand has done note-worthy research work inthis direction.

The ancient and precious Sancha textsare also found in tehsil Chopal, tehsil Shilayiand Chakrota area of Uttar Pradesh.

Pandit Om Prakash and Pandit DeviRam, the native Brahmans of the villageKhadanka in Sirmour are experts in Sanchaknowledge and it's system.

Another Brahman named PanditShivanand, a resident of the village inSirmour has also thorough knowledge of'Sancha' texts. He makes accurate predictionsbased on its knowledge. Pt. Mohan Lal, anative of the village Dehar in Sirmour is a well-known name due to his thorough and intimateSancha knowledge.

Undoubted, 'Sancha' is an ancient andsacred 'knowledge of Kashmiri origin, which isa historical cultural heritage. It is a glorious partof our rich past and a proud contribution ofKashmiri Brahmans, who have left an indeliblemark on the pages of history.

Janloag

Contact author at :[email protected]

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Preserving Culture - Our Customs, Rites & Rituals

Marriage Rituals of Kashmiri Pandits- Vishal Raina

. An extract of the boy'shoroscope (Tekni) is made public. Thegirl's side who find it matching andmeets their specifications, approachboy's side for the alliance.

. To formalise the alliance,a party of males from the boy's sidemeets a party from the girl's side at aplace fixed by the latter. After tea andsnacks, bouquets are exchanged tosignify the acceptance of marriageproposal on both sides. The date ofmarriage is fixed.

- . Housecleaning is done few days before themarriage, formally with some feastingand distribution of Ver, a concoction ofrice, condimends and sheep entrialsor walnut. Colour mottifs are put onentrance gate (Krool). Now-a-days thisfunction is done more formally a daybefore the ceremony proper starts,

arriage Rituals

Match making

Kath Baath

Marriage ceremony Livun

M

Pre

serv

ing

Cu

ltu

re-O

ur

Cu

stom

s,R

ites

&R

itu

als

while a pseudol ivun is doneearlier.

. It isthe night whenM e h a n d i i sapplied on thehands / feet of thegroom / bride byher father's sister. It is also offered to

guests. Singing takes place all night,often supported by professional singingand dancing parties (Bacha-nagma).

.A long pooja (longer in case of

Mainzrath

Devgon

Praagaash28



Pre

serv

ing

Cu

ltu

re-O

ur

Cu

stom

s,R

ites

&R

itu

als

Praagaash29



girls) is a religious preparatoryceremony. Father gifts all jewellery andutens i l s e tc to h is daughte rceremonially at this function. Kheer asprasad is distributed on the occasion.

. Grooms wear akesari colour turban (Dastaar) which istied by the uncles. The elder lady of thehouse bids them bye on a Vyueg (arangoli like round, coloured pattern onground) with feeding of candy. Nomusicals accompany the party except aconche shell. On arrival at the bride'splace, he is again welcome by the elderlady of the house on a Vyueg (of coursethis time together with the bride) with anaarti with lamps made of rice flour andfeeding of candy. Although some haveintroduced Jaimala (Vijaymala)exchange recently, majority of people

Marriage proper

would instead have Mananmaal (Malaof agreement) tied as the bride was notby vijay (conquest) but by agreement.The guests (Baraatis) are entertainedto a meal, usually a lunch as morningmarriages are more common than nightones. The food served is vegetariansince early 1930 when Pt. Hargopal, areformer made it a norm. The marriageproper is performed by the priests andcan take anything upto five hours. Itstarts with the groom worshipping atthe doorway to the bride's home(Dwara pooza). In the ceremony, themost important part is when the coupletakes seven steps together and alsowhen they are worshipped with flowersby the relatives of the bride as if theyare embodiments of God and Godess(Posha pooza). The bride and groomfeed each other ceremonially (Dai-

Pre

serv

ing

Cu

ltu

re-O

ur

Cu

stom

s,R

ites

&R

itu

als

Praagaash30



batta). The food for thatis paid for by thegroom's side, so are allthe requirements at thec e r e m o n y , t h eresponsibility of thegroom's side. Even thecosmetics and theouter robe for the brideis provided by thegroom's side. Farewellagain is at the Vyueg, inthe same manner asthe welcome. The

groom alongwith his bride is welcomeback at his place again on the Vyueg.The groom's sister ritually bars theirentry to the house which is allowedafter she is promised a gift by thegroom (Zaam Braand). They are thenled to the kitchen when the mother-in-law after f.mp3ally seeing herdaughter-in-law (Maetemur) entertainsthem to some food while they sit on thehearth. All the women at this stage singin the joy of the arrival of the new bride.

. The same night, the coupleSat-raat

again visits the bride'shouse (except on aSaturday) and have theceremonial dinner beforeleaving back.

[Source : ZaanArchives]


��

Poetry - Dr. Mudasir Firdosi

Book of Life

Book of life on the ledge,dusty, full of memories.The kid in me smiled,

Is that really you?

Remember the days whenit was fun to be home,lazying all day around,and no worries known.

Gobbling the cream from the milk pot,feigning it was never you!

Keeping mum when mum inquired.That day, going to the shop,

buying biscuits on credittaking your dad's name,

devouring the biscuits fast on the run.

Running wild in the fields,falling from a tree branch with a thud.

Broken arm hanging low,fun was, however, worth the pain.

Those days, happiness, livedwithin us unconditionally,

innocent days of joy, desire,and infinite dreams to grow old.

Praagaash31



Saints & Sages - Ashok Dullu

Lalla-Ded’s Married Life & Liberation

Agreat deal of controversy exists as toprecisely when Lalla was born. Some writersgive the date of her birth as the middle of thefourteenth century while other sourcesindicate that Lalla could have been bornsomewhere between A.D 1317 and A.D 1320(even as early as 1300-1301), and that shedied in the 1370s or 1380s.

Lalla was given in marriage to Nicha Batof Pampore at a young age. Her in-laws gaveher a new name - Padmavati. The custom ofnaming a new bride when she is accepted intoher husband's family still exists amongKashmiri Hindus. It symbolizes a marriedwoman's new identity as awife and daughter-in-law.However, in her verses,she always refers toherself by her maidenname Lalla and it is thisname that has come downto posterity.

M a l t r e a t e d i nMarriage, Legends speakabout her mother-in-lawas a tyrant who filled hermarital life with suffering.Both Lallaì

Lalla was not given enough to eat. Hermother-in-law would give her small servings ,making them look larger by hiding a stoneunderneath the food on her plate. Lalla wouldquietly eat whatever she was served. Lallaplays along with the ruse, making the gueststhink Lalla is treated like a queen. She dutifully

s family andthat of her husband NicaBhat belonged to differentŚaiva Tantric sects thatwere at odds with eachother. This was perhaps another source oftension for poor Lalla.

washes the stone at theend of the meal, placing itback on its shelf eachtime.

A s p e c i a lceremony (a

prayer for bringing peaceinto the house) was onceheld at her house. As shewent out that day to fetchwater from the river, one of her neighborsteased her that she would have a feast thatnight. Lalla's reply that has become a famousproverb in Kashmiri was :

which means - whether alamb or a sheep is killed ather house, the daughter-in-law will always get astone.

Some legends describethat her marriage was notconsummated , wh i leothers say she was adisobl ig ing wife whopreferred to keep toherself.

Her morning choreswould invariably be herdaily visit to the temple

where she performed her

One day, the mother-in-law finallysucceeds in casting enough doubt into themind of her son, that he decides to follow Lalla

grahashanti

hund maritan kinah kathnoshi nalvat tsalih nahzanh’

‘

sādhana, or ariverside, or a well to fetch water sometimesalone or other times with other women.Sometimes she is followed & seendisappearing into white light. At other times ,she is encountered in deep trance by the river.

Praagaash32



as she goes about her morning chores.Suspecting her of infidelity, her husbandfollowed her to the river bank where he foundher sitting alone in a meditative posture. Hewent home and waited for her to come back.Soon Lalla returned with an earthen pitcherfull of water on her head. Filled with rage, herhusband hit the pitcher with a stick. While thepitcher broke into pieces, thewater stayed miraculously intacton her head. Lalla calmly wentinside the house and poured thewater into smaller vessels until allvessels were full. She threw theleftover water outside the housewhere a pond is believed to haveformed. Later on, this pond wasnamed Laltrag ( the Pond ofLalla), which remained full formany centuries.

The miracle of the waterpitcher makes her very famous asdoes the springing of the pond .

This incident represents aturning point in Lalla's life .The fact that Lalla isable to nourish her household with that waterwithout reacting or responding to the torrent ofraging emotions from her in-laws, is symbolicproof that she has achieved a higher level oftransformation. She is a realized soul who nolonger requires to continue with themeaningless married life. So it is a culminationof the maltreatment meted out by the mother-in-law and the final act of breaking the pitcherof the ego, freeing the waters to flow where itwills which truly frees her from bondage of theego, and not just the unfortunate marriage.

In this story, among the elements thatseemed to spark such a response of awe andadmiration were Lalla s dedication to dailyspiritual discipline despite the demands of herfamily life; her ability to remain calm andaccepting in the face of adversity; and thetransformation of the heroine.

As Lalla rejects social conventions, she

�

is subject to ridicule, which causes a great dealof pain to her. At the same time it makes herfocus even more intensely on her spiritualquest, now that she occupies a space outsidethe system. She says in a verse:

So she begins the life of awandering ascetic, who manytimes is depicted as naked orsemi-nude.

This is a very controversialissue among authors who havewritten about Lalla. Many writershave difficulty trying to reconciletheir awe and reverence for Lallawith the problematic image of anaked woman. That she took upthis mode of life seems to besupported by one of her vaks:

Lalla's wandering in a nude state couldrefer to her divesting or de-robing herself of allworldly attachments, including her family,friends, and the comfort of a home. Nakednessexpresses vulnerability and humility, but it canalso be inherently freeing, like that of a nakedchild at play, innocent of the shame or dangerthat adults experiences impose upon the state.It is not out of a desire to shock, nor in a moodof self-mortification. It is just in her

she had become completelyunselfconscious. She is then made out to havecast away her apparel to go about dancing in

‘The chain of embarrassment will only breakWhen I can tolerate taunts and mocking wordsRobe of self-pity will burn away When the inner

unbridled horse (restless mind) isbrought under control’

My Guru gave me but one precept; “Fromwithout withdraw your gaze within, And fix it onthe Inmost Self.” I, Lalla, took to heart this oneprecept, And therefore naked I began todance.

“finemadness”

Gwaran von nam kunuy vatsunNeybra dop nam anndaray atsun;Suy gav Lali mey vaakh ta vatsun,Tavay mey hyotum nangay natsun.

Praagaash33



the nude. Her craving for breaking theconventional bonds of societal mores byliberating herself was expressed early on inher life:

This story has very interesting dimensions.The essence of the story where not much iscontested is that her credentials as anevolved soul were fairly well established. Thebody of work – attributed to her areample proof of this fact. It is also accepted thatwhen this incident happened, she was awandering ascetic.

What is contested is ,her wandering as apoorly clad or naked ascetic ,her conversionto Islam, her spiritual ascendance withrespect to her Muslim contemporaries.

The story begins with Lalla, who hastaken to roaming poorly clad, claiming “thereare no real men” here so why should I wearclothes? She would spend most of the time inher Sadhana away from the crowds .She wasa practicing Yogini from the Kashmir Shaivatradition. One day, she joins the people whohave gathered to welcome this Sufi Saint fromHamadan .

The historical context of Hamadani'sjourney to Kashmir is briefly described here toput the events in context. The stern butgenerous ruler Timur back in Persia was in thehabit of disguising himself and going out andgiving to the poor, but a “greedy Sayyidneighbour” caught wind of one poor woman'sfortune and stole it from her. After a longdetailed drama, which is longer than the bakerstory, the conclusion of this drama results inTimur's announcement that all Sayyids mustprove their purity by passing the ordeal ofriding the hot iron horse. Only Mir Sayyid Àli

mandachi haa'nkal kar tshe'nyamWhen can I break the bonds of shame ?When I am indifferent to jibes and jeers.When can I discard the robe of dignity ?

When desires cease to nag my mind.

Vakhs

Lalla meets Hamadani - The Baker story:

Shah Hamadani, who was a sufi saint of theKubarwiya order is said to have gonesuccessfully through the ordeal .Timur'sinsistence that all of Ali Hamadani's followerstoo have to pass the test made their stay inHamadan untenable. Timur is also said tohave ordered Ali Hamadani to go to Kashmir.So you find him in Kashmir on the mission tospread Islam in Kashmir.

Hamadani saw from a distance a poorlyclad woman but bright like lightning. Themoment she saw him and the party, she ranshrieking “I've seen a man! I've seen a man!”and runs for cover. She first runs into the shopof the grocer or butcher, who yells at movingtowards her and sends her back out. Then sheruns across the street into the baker's andjumps in the oven. Baker faints out of fear ofwhat the King would do to him. Then to hisshock and relief he sees Lalla emerging in fineclothing and then hastening after Hamadani.

Lalla had purposely threw herself in theoven to show Hamadani that the ordeal he hadendured at the hands of Timur was an easy jobfor persons of advanced occult powers. Onseeing Lal Ded coming out of a furnace of fireattired in fine clothes , his pride of riding the firehorse was humbled, and he becomes aconstant companion of hers. In this story Lallais now a saint in her own right meeting anothersaint on the path.

This was the period when Islam wasmaking inroads in Kashmir. Sultans hadalready established their kingdom. Islam waspatronized by them. We find Lalla identifiedand revered by both Hindu and Muslimreligious traditions, despite her Hinduheritage. Perhaps this is due to the temporalplacement of her life. She lived at a time whenthe presence of Islam was growing in thevalley, and the recognition of her by the Sufiswas a natural inclination especially as she wasin any case propagating oneness of God asagainst the highly ritualistic religious beliefs ofthe original settlers -Kashmiri Pandits.

Praagaash34



Adopting the local saint, as a means toallay the fears and anxieties around thestrange and new, seems rather ingenious. Byincorporating her into the narratives of greatsaints, she becomes part of the greaternarrative that develops around Islam inKashmir. It also perhaps helped to keep thedeeper roots of the cultural identity structureintact, connecting the past to the present.

effect on the Kashmiri community,changing the very fabric of the society.

S a y y i d H a m a d i w a s a g r e a tproselytizer, but one wonders how in his book‘Zakhirat-ul-Muluk’ to guide a Sultan intreating his non-Muslim subjects, he couldbring in conditions which perhaps evenQuran-sharif did not lay down on how to treatnon-muslims. He was no doubt a disciplined &trained Islamic proselytizer. He is regardedas the greatest influencer to bring Islam to

It will be pertinent to note that Lalla 'svaakhs were orally transmitted for over 300years before her name was mentioned byPersian scholars in their works.The 20 & 21narrators include Kashmiri Pandit Scholars,Kashmiri Muslim scholars, Britishers,Journalists, Internet bloggers and diaspora.The first scholarly accounts of Lalla,originating from British colonialists, Templeand Grierson in the early part of the twentiethcentury, provide some form of scholarlylegitimacy to her existence and indicate herworthiness of further study.

Similarly, Lalla serves as a uniting forcethat transcends religious identity in favour ofcommunity identity, bringing Kashmiristogether in their love of Lalla and her story.

There is no doubt that the history ofHamadani's seven hundred followers fleeingfrom Timur s edict and settling in Kashmir hada profound

th st

Scholarly attention from Lalla's fellowKashmiri Pandits also reclaims her as one oftheir own, reasserting her connections withthe Kashmiri Śaiva tradition, and her identityas one.

�

Kashmir.Life is a story, and Lalla is just one of

them – A shining connection to interminglingidentities for Kashmiris and spiritual explorers.Her universal elements will continue to draw inthe explorers of story and symbolism, while herunique Kashmiri qualities will shift and changewith the times and the narrators.

.

Note: This write up is meant to bring out somestriking aspects of Lalla to fore for ourcommunity .It rests heavily on the material asindicated inAcknowledgement

[Acknowledgement: Locating Kashmir in LalDed : Communicating identity and meaningthrough narrative - Diane Fereig]

Author can be contacted at :[email protected]

Praagaash35



My Medical Journey ... From Page 23

he said apologetically, “This was ratherawkward for me. You are a good doctor and intouch with modern medicines. I am an oldhand. You have overwhelmed me by yourindulgence; by encouraging me to write theprescription.”

“On the contrary, I am so pleased youdid it. It will boost father's morale. I am sure itwill cure him. Old remedies from oldphysicians sometimes work wonders,” I said,bidding him farewell.

Father took one dose of Gopi Nath'smixture soon after. He ate a light dinner of riceand . He took another dose of themixture before he went to bed and sleptthrough the night.

Next morning, the visits to the lavatorystopped. Two days later father said he feltconstipated!

dodie kaer

Doctor can be contacted at:[email protected]

Praagaash36



Short Story - Parineeta Khar

Radha, Rebecca & Raginia

It was the morning of , theeighth day of the lunar fortnight. The city ofSrinagar had woken to a late spring after acold May. The breeze in the early morning wascool but not biting. Radhai, the matriarch of apandit family was busy assorting the itemswith feverish energy going up and down thefive storey house. The things required werefor the aquatic journey as well as the puja; theannual ceremonial worship was to be offeredto the Devi of Tullamulla.

The boatman was there havingpunctually arrived at 6 AM, sitting crouched at

the stone steps leadingto the ghat. The morning tea would be brewedin the kitchen part of the (boat) whichwould sail them to Tullamulla, the abode ofGoddess Raginia. No regular meal would beserved till the puja was over. A large willow-basket full of knol-khol (khol-rabi), lotus stemwas stocked in the boat. It would be cooked ontheir way.

Raginia was their Ishtdevi – the clanGoddess, who loved milk and sweets andabhorred meat. Radhai loved, revered andeven held the deity in awe; her universe wasincomplete without the Devi. If any familymember of the house consumed meat or eggsthe night before ashtami, it was mandatory towash one's body, clothes and mind too off the

jyeshth ashtami

Donga

thoughts of meat to enterthe abode of Devi. Radhaihad avowed to pass on thelegacy of ashtami on toher progeny.

Every year this daythe family rented a dongato proceed to toworship the Thisritual journey had to be taken to respond to thecall (naad) of their beloved Raginia. Aunts,cousins and the whole retinue of relatives hadalready seated themselves comfortably in oneof the chambers of the boat. In the atmosphereof joviality, something plagued the seniorwoman's heart. Her young daughter in lawwas in the ninth month of her secondpregnancy, though she had the assurances ofthe mid wife (whom she had consulted), thatthe birth would take some time. With Devi'sname on her lips, the boat man lowered hisoars. Women bustled in the kitchen and mentalked merrily, but Shyama the expectingmother was advised to sit silently in a corner,eat less and talk less so as to keep theexcitement at bay, for excitement could inducelabour.

They reached the holy precincts. Radhaiquickly having finished her bath in the ladiessection of the river, ordered the toprepare the sacred food of halwa and luchi.The puja done, a late lunch was served. So farso good, Radhai cast worried glances at herdaughter in law, the day passed without anyevent. In the late night the older woman felt likespending some time close to the holy spring,considered to be the symbol of Devi. She satwith folded hands, her eyes fixed at theluminous effulgence of the divine visage; shefelt the Devi was smiling at her with pleasure.In that short spell of time, she was conscious

TullamullaDevi.

Halwai

Photo : Alamy

Praagaash37



that Shyama will have a daughter withfeatures carved akin to the smiling idol. Andher husband tugged at her phiran sleeve“Come, Shyama is in labour…..I had told you”.He reprimanded with his masculine authority.Shyama's daughter was born in the blessedvillage of Devi's abode, all pink and featureschiseled like the idol. They called her Raginia.The child was blessed by . Shewas made to fast on every ashtami andobserve the Tullamula pilgrimage with aspecial reverence. The little girl would helpher mother and grandmother clean thekitchen of all the vestiges of meat, eggs andonions, and all the stains of previouscookings. When the kitchen was freshlywashed with clay and water, when pots andpans were scrubbed to sparkle, then alone itwas worthy of being used for ashtami prasad.Raginia grew up listening to Devi's stuti(praises). Radhai would sing thesitting amidst Shyama and her two children.The so called fast of ashtami would start withpuffed up steaming hot sugared singharapurries, followed by a sumptuous vegetarianmeal and a snack again for supper.

Raginia reached her teens. Now, withcollege educated reasoning, she wouldquestion the fasting on ashtami day. Shefound it ridiculous to call it fasting, when all aperson did on ashtami was to eat. The simple

Devi Raginia

Panchastavi

house holder that Radhai was had a simpleexplanation, may be devoid of intellectualdetails.

Listen dear, this day Devi manifestedherself in . She appeared inKrishanjoo Kar's dream, instructed him to go tothe confluence of Shadipur. A serpent led theway while an inverted cauldron of milk laid atrail to guide the righteous bhatta. Themulberry tree in the spring is the symbol ofDevi. We celebrate Devi's coming to Kashmirdesh by singing her praises and also eatingsavouries . Every bhatta holds this lore dearestto heart and also vrat and utsav (fasting andcelebrations) go hand in hand”.

But no roganjosh” Raginia's brotherjoked. “Hush children” Radhai placed her oldfinger on his lips “ never should you polluteyour tongue by naming the thing on ashtamiday. It is a sacrilege. Devi loves kheer andsweets. Anywhere any time your reverenceshould not dwindle and Devi will bebenevolent.

Raginia married, marriage was a hastyaffair. The wonder was that the girl born on thepremises of Tullamula, met her future groomalso in Tullamula. The boy who till then hadbeen avoiding marriage, noticed Raginia whenshe was deep in prayer. Eyes closed andhands folded, she stood facing the sanctum.When she opened her eye lids loaded with thespiritual somnolence, her eyes met the smilingyoung man as if thrown from the heavens. Hehad been smitten; his whole bearing wentthrough a sweet sensation. A spell had beencast by the divine mother. In mid seventies theboy could not approach the girl right there. Heran to his mother and insisted to search for thegirl's family. His mother responded by ferventlyscrutinizing all the dharamsalas and locatedthe girl. This marriage was accepted andhonoured as Devi's will.

If Raginia's grandmother Radhai existedfrom ashtami to ashtami and breathed Devi'sname with every breath, her new home was

“

“

Tullamula

Praagaash38



equally if not more reverential to Tullamula.Her mother in law took the little pilgrimage toTullamula without a fail, every month on theeighth day of lunar fortnight in the snowy greywinters and searing summers. She wouldcome back to eagerly waiting children withsweet halwa of semolina and deliciousnadermonja (lotus stem pakoda). The oldgrandmother in law of Raginia would ask withbright enthusiasm,

And how was the darshan?” “Oh, theDevi was dancing with her consort”. Andfurther she would report how beautiful thesacred water looked like nectar of (It isbelieved that the colour of the water of the holyspring changes according to the moods andwhims of the Devi).

On ashtami day one has to start a mealwith an aachaman, then leave little portion ofrice and curries for birds, dogs and otherbeings. One had to share the food with allliving beings.

As the hues of the spring conformedwith the moods of Devi, when Raginia's sonwas born, the Tullamula spring seemedexceptionally blue to the adoring eyes of thetwo grandmothers. The visits to Tullamulacontinued for some more years.At the surfacethings looked usual yet a worrying buzz was inthe air as if the demon Jalodbhav was movingunderneath the placid waters of the Dal. Thevery breeze appeared whispering in the ears

“

Devas.

of bhattas “you are not safe”. Devi is angry, thenectar has turned murky, the old bonyas(chinars) of Tullamula aangan lookeddespondent. Such were the disturbing reportsof the pilgrims from .

The Magh ashtami of 1990, the windsturned icy. Shyama still wanted to go on hermonthly darshan of Devi, though she waswarned “no going to Tullamula this month – abomb may explode, terrorists may strike –anything can happen”. But go, she must. Deviwould be waiting for her devotees. They had torespond to the call. That visit proved to beShyama's last. She was met with a forlornDevi. The sanctum wore a deserted look. Thepundit was in a hurry to wind up. The flowersand vyen (the scented herb) were notavailable. She bent down to offer thecustomary milk, her fingers lost the grip on thetumbler; the water of the spring was reddishblack. Crest fallen she reached home.Radhai's habitual query about the darshanwas replied with tears in eyes.

“The spring is actually reddish black”.“Oh! The kalpanth is inevitable now, doom ishere”.

The old woman beat her breast andwailed.

“The Devi, our mighty protector hasabandoned us, the sinners that we be”.Now onwards the old lady would keep onmumbling “oh Devi ,take me to your abode”.

The alert, agile woman suddenly bentwith her years. Meanwhile pundits were onrun, the way deer run helter skelter whenpredators are on the prowl. Bhattas left,compelled by impending warnings and threatsto their faith and honour. Radhai not even oncestopped praying to her Ishtdevi. “Let me diehere, in my own sati desh”. This prayer at leastdid not go unheard. She died in her sleepleaving Shyama and her husband free to moveout.

When hordes of pundits ran to nearbyJammu, some little farther to Delhi or Jaipur,

Tullamula

Praagaash39



Raginia's family's destination was continentsacross. Her elder brother was successful ingetting their immigration to Canada, where hestayed. They had the citizenship and he wasinsisting that her son will have a better futureand her husband could use his degrees to hisadvantage. But they debated, how could theyleave Kashmir, Raginia's Tullamula?.Theydelayed the departure, though 10 year oldShubhum's education was in doldrums andeven his life was not safe. But then herhusband was ready to leave following anincident of a grave nature – In the August of1990 one afternoon the boy came with a longface from the cricket field. He had been jeeredat by his Muslim friends “Shubham bhatta,why don't you go the way other bhattas havegone”. They did not want to bring their child upamong threats, murder and indignity. Theysuccumbed to these unseen forces.

Raginia's husband was ready to leave,she still lingered. Then one night she had avision or perhaps a dream. She was sitting in atrance in the precincts of Tullamula whenRadhai touched her shoulder and said vividly“go Raginia go, Devi hates tamas (violence).Eons ago she had requested Hanumanji tocarry her out of Lanka to satidesh. But nowRavana is ruling this unfortunate land. Nowgo”. The vision faded. They left lock stalk andbarrel. Initially they had to accommodatethemselves with her brother's family, laterthings fell in place.

Everything changed here, theirlanguage, attire, friends and life over all. Yetthe transition was rapid, in two years theydrove on the highways of Canada withdexterity and stood up to every demand of dayto day life. What did not change was thedevotion to Devi, they observed ashtami fastwith the same élan. The culture might havegone through erosion but the adherence toTullamula was firm.

While the old people lost the familiarityand security of home, middle aged got busy inestablishing and anchoring themselves in thenew land. The third generation like Shubham,being raw in physical and mental makeupmoulded themselves in the attained shapesgiven by the adopted land. As a personShubham was honest but impersonal in ways.His practicality sometimes took thedimensions of ruthlessness. Raginia took adegree in hospitality. During her course shemet a fellow Panjabi woman and in course oftime started a small business in partnershipwith this Panjabi friend. The weekends sawher busy in her food joint serving roganjosh,kalia etc. to hoards of customers. Life wasgood, actually better than back home. Thefinancial position improved but a thorn ofseparation always pricked, more so at theheart of Raginia's mother-in-law. This olderwoman was left alone among the four walls ofa prosperous home with gadgets beeping allthe time. Some kind of emptiness surroundedthis lonely woman. Then they decided toanoint the Tullamula Devi in their ownexpansive land. They constructed a marbletemple and on a jesht ashtami dayconsecrated a beautiful idol of Tullamula Devi.The temple was surrounded by a water canalwhich was pumped by an electric motor. Theyeven sowed the saplings of maple and now theTullamula was all in form. They were awareevery inch that their creation was an imitationbut all the same it reminded them of theoriginal shrine. Now the old woman spent most

Praagaash40



of her days ruminating in her ownA handsome youth in his early twenties,

Shubham, was fair with a crown of brown hairand eyes also brown with an aquiline nose.He mingled well with the crowds. He did verywell academically with a degree in internalmedicine. His general bearing was moreCanadian, which was expected. However, hisfriendship with a girl of Jewish origin sent thefamily in bouts of panic. To his mother he hadtold “this is my girl”. They had been together inmedical school, had clicked from day one andat the end of the term were quite intimate.When he brought her home, Raginia'smother-in-law was not comfortable.

“This is Rebecca, call her Becky, thespecial girl for you, mom”, looking with smilingeyes at his mother. Raginia found her rathercoy and surprisingly a picture of sobriety.Even the girls back home were contrastinglyblatant now. She was invited to join them for ameal. Raginia's husband proudly offered hersome mutton, she hastily waved a hand“please, no red meat, the only red meat I eat isa beef steak.” When Raginia translated thedeclaration to the older woman, she sprangup from her seat.

“Thrahi thrahi, why! Shubham you hadto choose this cow eating woman of all thegirls in the world - yuck, so repulsive”.Shubham gestured not to make faces, thatwas out of etiquette. He later explained toRebecca that beef was prohibited for a panditand they abhorred even the name. However,her next visit was more disastrous. Out of agenuine curiosity she stepped inside the littleTullamula and was accosted by thegrandmother by a loud yell.

“Oh bewakoof ladki (stupid girl), don'tset your foot inside the temple, you eat cows”.The Jewish girl was lambasted by the panditgrandmother of her friend with whom she wasin a serious relationship.

This family had gone through hardshipsand banishment from homeland but never

Tullamula. had they known a discord within the family. Asthe visits of the girl increased the heatedarguments between the young man and theparents also raised. One night with a heavyheart Raginia sat facing the Goddess andprayed for a solution. She muttered under herbreath “ Ya Devi Sarva Bhuteshu, Budhi RupenSamasthita, Namastase … (oh Goddess youreside in all beings even as the incarnation ofwisdom, give me the wisdom to find a path, Ibow before you)”. Her mother in law joined theprayer and said in stifled tones.

“We left home and everything connectedto home behind us. The transformation wasnatural . With Devi 's compassionatebenevolence we are here safe and thriving.But we lost the simplicity of existence, chastityof thoughts and purity of heart. You Raginiawere born so near to Raginia Devi, you have tobe the beacon of the refined bhatta civilization.Keep your senses alert”.

“Amma” Raginia replied in all humility,“we may wash the temple clean of her steps,she has already occupied the threshold of yourhousehold. She lives in Shubham's heart andhe is the part of our biological frame. Let uswait and watch”.

Then followed another event of a moreserious nature, One Sunday morning Rebeccaappeared in a fine brocade sari, her headcovered and hands folded and stood nearRaginia “Raginia, I have given up beef andstopped eating flesh altogether. I will observeall the rituals of ashtami – make me a part ofyour family”. Right behind her stood Shubhamlooking straight into his mother's eyes. Raginiawas dumb founded and lowered her head. Theolder lady was thoroughly scandalized lookingat the girl coming with her own alliance.

“Rebecca, you are a wonderful girl and aconscientious child. We as a communityobstinately cling to our roots”. She waited forthe girl's reaction.

“Raginia, do not talk about roots, everyfresh sapling grows its roots afresh”. This was

Praagaash41



an intelligent explanation.“Look Rebecca” Raginia continued

“language, religion and race, everything isagainst this union. My mother in law has toresort to pantomime techniques tocommunicate with you”.

Shubham gently touched his mother'sshoulder and asked in his youthful voice “whymom, yesterday I heard you recite ekam satviprah – bahundah vinduti (truth is one butwise men call it in many ways), "maa , leaveaside this insipid talk of religion and culture, Ido not care and will not carry this unpleasantburden”. "No Shubham, not a burden, call thisyour legacy. Do not see the things with yourlens".

“And you want to see everythingthrough your lens” Shubham retorted back,thus ended the undecided interview.

Shubham shifted to the dorm in hishospital and saw his family only on weekends.Life continued with pace but the discontent athome was pulsating. Raginia was in touchwith Rebecca. She would call her and duringone of her talks she asked the Canadian girlthe cause of her resilience in following herson.

“Only one cause – the ties of the familywhich tie your family in a string. My parentstreat my marriage as my personal affair. InShubham's case he even waits for hisgrandmother's consent for our marriage”.Raginia was touched and left the decision toDevi and the Devi was at work.

The yearly food festival of Raginia'sfood joint was at hand. First three days of theweek they served the ethnic Panjabi food, restof the week was stipulated for Kashmiri food.Roganjosh and kalia were the highlights of theweekend. An overwhelming crowd throngedthe food joint. Business was going good,money poured. On Sunday when they wereexpecting a deluge of guests, happened to bethe ashtami “ Raginia's day of fasting andvegetarianism. She herself had to preside and

direct the proceedings in the kitchen. Shecovered her nose to evade the strong aroma ofmutton dishes. In this hustle one of theMexican assistants came with the salt box.“Stop!” Raginia shouted “ I have already addedthe salt”.” No madam – I am sure we didnot…..why don't you taste it?” the Mexicansuggested simply.

“No” Raginia screamed “Oh no, I can't…I am…..” Then she stopped. How could thishelper understand her peculiar predicament?It was already 10 O'clock in the morning. Thetaste of this dish is special and subtle. HerPanjabi friend insisted “Raginia, taste ityourself, this is our signature item. Quality ofthe taste cannot be compromised”. Raginiadipped the spoon into the bubbling vessel ,brought out a chunk and little bit of gravy,demurred and then put the thing in her mouth.“Oh my God, this is awful there is no salt”. Themistake was rectified and the dish was savedand so was the day. Everything went on wellbut she was miserable. She held her tears ineyes, rushed home and locked herself in herroom. The embankment of retrain was washedaway by the tears of repentance. “ I havecommitted a sacrilege. What would Radhaisay?

Amidst this misery- something flashed inher brain. Automatically her fingers pressedRebecca's number. She knew that latter was inemergency room duty.

Praagaash42



“Rebecca…. This is an emergency”.The girl felt the agitation in Raginia's voice. “ Ihave swallowed something …. I have got toget my innards washed”.

“Can you drive or should I come” askedRebecca. “I can”.

While driving, she visualized the yogiswho could rinse their intestines clean and putthem back again. Radhai had claimed to havewitnessed a spiritual figure do it. Rebeccamade a case of accidental poisoning andRaginia got a stomach wash. Back in arecuperating room, her mother in law joinedher.

“You are pale as a shava (corpse), whathappened?”. “ I ate meat on ashtami.” Raginiareplied sobbing.

“Accidentally …. inadvertently”? Oldlady could not believe her Raginia couldcommit the blasphemy. “No – veryconsciously to keep my profits unharmed.Business got the priority. The door of the roomopened, Rebecca came near her and gentlybared her arm. “I have to give you a shot,Raginia. The patient silently gave her arm,and with maternal pride looked at the whitegirl, so kind, so pure and sweet.

“Thank you Rebecca – mind you we donot call our mothers in law by first name”. Thegirl hugged her.

“You did not swallow any poison, right?Rebecca looked straight into her eyes andasked.

Raginia bent her head. “You swallowedmeat on ashtami, right?....I understand”.

“I am sure you do”. Raginia answered,then addressing her mother in law in nativetongue “good, bad, superior and inferior arebut human understandings. Devi staged adrama and we have accepted Rebecca. Thiswas Devi's plan and play, her leela.


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Archana Kamath HedgekarOur Shining Stars - M.K.Raina

The Surprise Kashmiri Singer

Archana Kamath Hegdekar is of Konkaniorigin with roots in Mangalore. So why are weincluding her in our series on

, basically meant for Kashmiris? Wehave the reason, and a genuine reason. She isattracted to Kashmiri music and the Kashmirisongs since a long, and has been singingKashmiri Bhajans and songs with utterdevotion. If you listen to her with your eyesshut, you will never know she is not Kashmiri.Over the years, she has almost perfected herpronunciation of Kashmiri vocabulary and isworking hard to get it smooth and appealing.

But Archana definitely has Kashmiriroots too. "Being a Gaud Saraswat Brahmin"Archana says, "my roots lie in Kashmir onlyand I am proud to be a Gaud SaraswatBrahmin. I wish to explore and populariseKashmiri music and culture through more andmore songs." Archana is a regular invitee tothe social get-together programmes ofKashmiri Pandits in Mumbai. She not onlyattends the programmes but also sings to thedelight of audience. Archana lives in Mumbai

Our ShiningStars

and Mumbai Kashmiri community loves her somuch. Dr Sanjay Dhar, President of theKashmiri Pandits’ Association has this to sayabout the singer: “Archana surprised us allwith her beautiful rendition of Kashmiri folksongs. A regular now in Kashmiri PanditsCultural functions, her beautiful voice,excellent flow and almost perfect Kashmiripronunciation is a great music to ears. Being aSaraswat herself, her ease at Kashmiri musicprobably reveals her long last connection withthe Kashmiri Pandit community. I am sure herskills and great voice will take her to greatheights. Kashmiri Pandits of Mumbai willcontinue to love her and her beautiful voice,and seek her presence in all our activities.”Shri S.P.Kachru, former President of theKashmiri Pandits’ Association adds: “AKonkani Saraswat Brahmin by descent, Ms

Praagaash43



Archana Kamath Hegdekar introduces arefreshing whiff of reclaiming Kashmirilanguage especially amongst Kashmiri youth.Few can embody the various interpretations ofKashmiri lyrics and music as good as her.Archana's penchant for straddling the twinworld of music and Kashmiri language is atonce the torch bearer and the role model forinspiring the preservation and propagation ofour beloved language. And in that respect,may her relevant initiatives come to fruition.”

Archana hails from a musical family, somusic came quite naturally to her. She got herfirst music lessons from her grandfather LateMr. Narasimha Kamath at the age of 3. Herfather Mr. Dinesh Kamath has also been hermentor all through the years. Though no one

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from her family has got formal training inmusic, her parents made sure she gets tolearn Indian classical music formally under atrained teacher. Archana owes all herachievements to her parents and to her familyfor their immense support in her musicaljourney.

Archana's formal educat ion inHindustani Classical music began at the ageof 8, under the guidance of Mrs. ShrutiGokhale, Mrs. Swaroopa Gadgil, Mrs. VidulaBhagwat and renowned vocalist Padmashree

Padma ja Phenany Joglekar. She iscurrently learning from renowned vocalistSmt. Shampa Pakrashi. One of her biggestachievements till date is singing in thepresence of the Songstress Lata Mangeshkarji, at an award function in ShanmukhanandaAuditorium, Sion, Mumbai.

Archana sang chorus in the 2018 movie'Raazi' for 'Ae Watan’ song. She sang aKonkani song for the famous rapper 'Divine' /

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Gully Boy's documentary (2019), produced byRed Bull India. She did playback for theactress Kangana Ranaut inAIB video and hasbeen a part of seven songs in the recenttheatre musical 'Chhota Bheem JaadooiAdventure'. Presently, she teaches music inShankar Mahadevan Academy since five anda half years.

Archana's Kashmiri song 'HarmukhBartal' went viral recently and recorded morethan a lakh of views in just 24 hours. In a storydone on her, The Indian Express dated 23October 2018 says, "A Konkani-origin singerhas become a household name in Kashmirwith her covers sung in Koshur." Dipti NagpaulD'souza in her story on the singer writes, "InApril 2017, Mumbai-based Archana KamathHegdekar visited Kashmir for the first time.She had heard about its extraordinary beautybut had not expected the kind of hospitalityshe and her family experienced. "The peoplewere generous. They were very courteousand placed immense importance on theguest's comfort and safety. I came to Mumbaitouched", says Archana. "Archana became aviral sensation among Kashmiri locals afterher first song in Koshur garnered over three

lac views. Hegdekar has since been recordingcovers of several traditional Kashmiri songseven though she does not understand thelanguage" records The Indian Express.

“I am a Saraswat Brahmin and I readonline that Kashmiri Pandits also share thesame roots. We were all Brahmins settled bythe banks of river Saraswati untill we migrated.That for me, strengthened the bond I sharewith Kashmiri Pandits" saysArchana.

Archana is presently working on aKashmiri-Hindi bi-lingual track which she willwrite, compose and sing. "It is like a love songto Kashmir from the rest of India. In future, Iwant to contemporise old Kashmiri classics forthe newer generation. One of the complimentsI receive from Kashmiris is that they feel I amtaking their culture mainstream, popularisingit. Now I want to make that my aim" Diptiquotes her saying.

For perfection in singing Kashmirisongs, Archana still needs to correct herKashmiri pronunciation for many peculiarwords. Rita Kaul, a veteran Indian Classicaland Folk music performer and a renownedmusic teacher of Mumbai says, “Archana,though not being Kashmiri but in spite of thather rendering is too good. I really appreciateher Kashmiri singing. It is wonderful but sheneeds to work more on ‘talafus’. I can say sheis still fantastic.” Another prominent Kashmirivocalist and cultural activist, known for his

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songs sung in Gul-Gulshan-Gulfam and Say-e-Deodar Ke for Doordarshan, Dilip Langoo, isall praise for Archana. Says he, “Such anintense dedication and love towards Kashmirimusicals is something we say result of pastlives, I mean Poorvajanma. I heartily wish herbest for her future endeavors. She has to workon pronunciation for sure, then more

sweetness will be added to the songs shesings. For past so many years, we have oftenlistened to her YouTube postings and hail herefforts. She is too good. May Saraswati blessher.Aahee!”

Archana Kamath Hegdekar has alsoparticipated in the television shows onDoordarshan National. She was among thefive finalists on ‘Khelo Gao Jeeto' with SachinPilgaonkar in 2007. She participated in ‘MusicMasti Dhoom' with Anu Kapoor and Minal Jainin the year 2007 and in ‘Airtel Desh ki Awazwith Ghazal Maestro Talat Aziz in 2008.Archana was among the 7 finalists of a singingcompetition organized by Times of India atAndheri Sports Complex with Sonu Nigam asthe Chief guest in the year 2007. She was oneof the 8 finalists in 'Voice of Mumbai'competition organized by Hindustan Times,which was judged by Jatin-Lalit, Shaan andSona Mohapatra, held in Andheri SportsComplex in 2008.

Singer can be contacted at :[email protected]

��

Short Story - M.K.Raina

The Last Game

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Their's was called the 'Gang of Six'. Eldestamong them was Lalji and he was 14 yearsold.All of them lived close to one another in thedensely populated locality of Maniyar.

The name was not given tothem for nothing. It was coined by Sama Kakh,a retired police officer of the locality, aftergiving due consideration to the boys' life styleand activities. The six, Sama Kakh said, had,as per his knowledge, broken all records ofbeing in one another's close company forsuch a long time. Frankly speaking, theboys were seen together right from theday they were enrolled in a near-byprimary school, eight years back. Theirmeeting point was the shadowy spaceunder a big Mulbery tree, in the middle oftheir mohalla, which they had cleanedand converted into a nice sitting place.They were there, except during rains &snow, every evening, doing their homework, discussing the issues they thoughtwere important tothem, planningtheir picnic tripsa n d e a t i n g

(a largeredd ish -b lack ,a c i d i c a n d

Shahtul

deliciously flavoured fruit), by climbing up thetree, one branch reserved for each boy. Andthey had the exclusive right to the fruit byvirtue of having engraved their names with aknife, on the trunk of the tree. During heavy

snow fall in winter, they wouldinvariably mould a Snowman byrolling snow, placing it vertically up ata fixed spot, resting it against thetree, and shaping it well like a fatman's torso. They would then placeon it, a spherical head made up ofsnow again and also attach thelimbs. It was the duty of Ramji, theyoungest among them, to engraveand mark with soft charcoal, the

Snowman's ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Anold Kangri (Kashmiri Fire-pot) was also placednear by, to give a colourful touch to theartefact. And this Snowman was there torepresent the 'Gang' till early spring when itwould melt and vanish.


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All this was till Lalji got a transistor radio asgift from his Delhi based cousin, with theadded information that India-England CricketSeries was about to commence in Englandand they could hear the running commentarylive on it. This changed their schedulesaltogether.

It was not that they had not seen orlistened to a radioearlier. In fact, two ofthem have had radiosets in thier homes,but they were of nouse to them. Theirparents would switchon the radios only forthe news, being leastinterested in the games. Now, this transistorset gave them the immense pleasure oflistening to what they wanted, at their own will.

Lal j i was now busy, collectinginformation about the cricket matches to beplayed at various places in various countries.He got a new notebook and kept each andevery information handy. Before the India-England Series got underway, Lalji hadmaintained record of all matches to be playedover a period of one year. He would nowoccasionally be seen absent from the 'Gang'.Others were least worried, knowing fully thathe was on the 'job'.

None of the boys had ever playedcricket, or even watched a match before. Butthey had heard about it from their seniorschoolmates. Lalji's cousin had informed themthat the game was sotough that even the bigpowers like America,Sov ie t Union andJapan were scared ofindulging in this deadlygame. This howeverdid not diminish theboys' interest in cricket.They waited anxiously

for the first match between the two countries,commentary of which really came live on thelittle transistor radio during late evening hours.There was some confusion initially, inunderstanding the words and phrases used bycommentators which they overcame at theend of the first match spanning 5 days of play.All through the match, they were seen sitting

beneath the Mulbery tree till midnightwhen under tremendous pressure fromtheir elders, they had to disperse to theirhomes to have dinner and sleep.

This new development gave Lalji anadded responsibility. Being senior, it washis duty to know more about the game.So, every day he would put lot ofquestions to his seniors and teachers and

share the information with his mates. Hewould also give his comments, to impressothers that he was picking up the game fast.After conclusion of the first match, the boyshad known a lot about the game, or at leastthey thought so.

By end of the test series of five matches,Lalji and his team had a fairly good knowledgeof the game. They were now aware of most ofthe rules. At times, they would also analysethe comments of a commentator andpronounce their judgement. And in the heartof hearts, they thought they were perfectplayers as well. “We are ready to prove ourmettle, only if a team from other locality wasready to play with us”, Lalji announced. Otherscheered.

They needed eleven people to form ateam and they were onlysix. But this did not posea n y p r o b l e m . T h ebarbed wire fenced plotof land, half a mile awayfrom their home, whichwas recently purchasedb y o n e o f t h e i rneighbours to constructhis new house, was too


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small to accommodate eleven persons tofield. Moreover, they thought they couldalways invite a couple of boys from thegathering to field for them on a bigger ground,if need be.And to bat, they decided that duringa match with a rival team, five of them wouldbat twice.

So, on an auspicious day, the boysfinally announced launch of their cricket team.They arranged four stumps, three for the

batting end and one for the runners end, in theshape of small lengths of mulbery branches. Anew bat was available in the market at rupeesten which they could not afford. After poolingall their pocket money and the additionalgrant, which one of them received from hisparents, they were able to make four rupees.Lalji, who was the natural choice for the

captainship because of his age, volunteeredto get a selected piece of willow firewood fromhis home. This piece of wood was given to acarpenter, who got it beautifully transformedinto a bat. Knowing that they had no more thanfour rupees on their body, the carpentercharged them only that amount and also giftedthem a wooden ball. Boys were all thrilled.Now they thought, they were in a position tochallenge any team. But Lalji's views weredifferent. He thought it was wise to practice forat least a couple of days, before theychallenge any body.

Next Sunday, they went to the 'playground' fully equipped and took along a dozenof children much less than their age to watchthem play and clap. They decided the battingorder by drawing lots. Lalji was overwhelmedwith joy as he was to bat first, and Kundan, thelast man to bat, was to bowl first. Lalji gave

some useful instructions to Kundan. 'How tobowl a fast ball and how to deliver a spin?'Kundan nodded his head, confirming hisgrasp of the things. Lalji took charge asopener and looked around in a manner of agreat batsman looking out for weaklydefended territories. He was set to receive thefirst ball but wanted to receive a trial one first togain confidence. He took the stance andsignaled Kundan to bowl. Kundan delivered afast ball, which took some time to reach Lalji.


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Lalji hit the ball forcefully. But it was deadbefore it could reach back to the bowler.Children clapped.

Now was the time to deliver first 'official'ball of the hour. Kundan came running fromquite some distance and threw the ball. Laljitook a step forward to make it bigger this time,and in a flash, he was clean bowled, the middlestump thrown two yards away licking dust.Lalji's bat was still in the air. Children behindhim clapped again as Lalji stood motionlesswith his cheeks red.

It was the turn of Raghu now. He wastwo years younger to Lalji but had robusthealth and wide chest. Kundan was spinningthe ball in his hands. Having sent the first ballvery 'fast', he made up hismind to send a 'spin' thistime. As soon as hedelivered the ball, whichwas anything but spin,Raghu moved to his left andhit the ball high in the air,and through a large glasswindow right into the attic ofa b u n g a l o w a t t h eboundary. Glass panescame crashing down.Raghu was terror-stricken.A baldy, his eyes red withanger, peeped out of thewindow and yelled. Beforethe boys could assess thesituation, a servant came running from thebungalow and caught Raghu by neck. Soonafter came the baldy with the wooden ball, hiswhite shirt miserably splashed with tea. Heslapped Raghu hard on his face. Raghu fell onthe ground. Baldy was mad. He continued tothrash Raghu with his fist and foot. Lalji, asleader of the team, intervened and pleaded formercy, only to get a hard slap from the servant.This provocated Kundan. He came runningfrom his position and caught servant's raisedhand, and in a moment, Kundan was thrown

away by the baldy with a kick. Children sittingat the fence were now crying and weeping and

abusing the baldy and his servant.The baldy 'captured' Raghu and Laljiand would not leave them unlessthey pay for two glass panes, a china

clay cup and laundry charges for theshirt. All this amounted to rupees

eight. Boys did not have a penny and the baldywould not let them go. All the boys wereweeping and wailing. A passer-by intervened.He pleaded with the baldy to lower his costs.Baldy, taking a lenient view, offered a two-rupee discount on the cost of damages, butthe boys had nothing. The passer-bymediated a deal. Boys were asked to part withtheir bat and the ball, which according to theirown confession, was valued at rupees four.Making sure that they had no money to pay thebalance, and seeing them in tears, the baldy


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was further moved. He let them go with thepromise that they would pay the balance nextmorning.

The baldy was gone and so were hisservant and the passer-by. The boys startedtowards their home in a perfect line, Lalji attheir head and the children at the tail. All ofthem had their heads down. Lalji, Raghu andKundan were still rubbing their body parts toeliminate pain. There was no weight to becarried back home. Stumps were not removedfrom the ground. They were kept standingthere as a token of the Gang's entry into thegame of cricket. They decided, and alsopersuaded children, not to reveal this episodeto anybody in their mohalla.

The boys' dreams were shattered and nextday, they took an oath not to play cricket again.Lest the running commentary tempt them toplay again, Lalji wrapped up his transistorradio with a piece of cloth and placed it underthe heap of old books in a large wooden box inhis home. And for a full year, no one from theGang took the route alongside that bungalow,lest the baldy spots them and demands tworupees. This, inspite of the fact that they had totraverse a long distance around to reach thier

school everyday.

As far the boys' permanent spot underthe tree, it remained an abandoned placethereafter, as the boys were scared to think of

being sighted and 'arrested' by the baldy.Came winter and with that a heavy snowfall.But there was no snowman under the tree thistime. Everything around was frozen. Thebranches of the tree were hanging low, dropsof water trickling down their leaves, perhapsmourning the disintegration of the 'Gang'.

Contact author at:[email protected]


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On Covid-19

Photo Feature

Praagaash58


Sun & SnowImage : Imtiyaz Hussain@hussain_imtiyaz


Margan TopPhoto : JKHMC

Village EnvironPainting : Uzma Nawchoo

Letters to Editor

Dear Raina Sahab,

Dear Sir,

Namaskar. I just completedreading both the Praagaashof March 2020 and the ZoonaDab Supplement. Whileasthe praagaash is as usual themix of best articles andpoetry especially the newpoets you have projectedincluding few doctors whom I hadnot read orheard earlier.Agreat discovery. But Iam highlyimpressed by the Supplement on Zoona Dab.I appreciate your memory of the episodes ofZoona Dab. It was indeed the most popularprogramme of Radio Kashmir for more thantwo decades without break. The photographsyou have acquired from various sources makeit further interesting. Your references to all theconcerned artistes and their biographies arevery useful and informative to our youngsters.I congratulate you for this masterpiececollection, a valuable Supplement whichevery Kashmiri would be proud to read,appreciate and preserve in their homes.

It is not very easy to bring out a monthlymagazine with supplements. I can understandwell as the bringing out of an issue of VAAKHtakes my two months time. I congratulate youonce again and wish you a very healthy andhappy life to serve our community.Regards,

I h a v e g o n e t h r o u g hPraagaash March edition. Iam impressed by its contentand the presentation. Multi-linguality has added to itsb e a u t y . Z o o n a D a bSupplement is simply a treatto cherish. My best wishes

Roop K. BhatNew Delhi

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Praagaash59



are always with you and with your team, Sir.

Herath Mubarak. I am tryingto learn Kashmiri while livingoutside Kashmir. Are thereany resources in Englishthat you would suggest for abeginner to use. I startedlooking at Wali & Koul'sBook but found it a littledifficult as it is written from a linguisticperspective while my aim is to learn spokenKashmiri. I dont know Nastaliq but can readand write Devanagari. Kindly share yourLessons on Devanagari-Kashmiri as well. I amready to pay for the course.

I am also in touch with Dr. Zarka Batul inEngland for her feed back on lessons inEnglish.

[email protected]

I have really appreciatedover the years how you havesingle handedly attempted towo

h

Dr. Showkat ShifaAssistant Professor PediatricsGMCAnantnag

Dear Sir,

Aashna Jamal

Timor Leste(Near Indonesia)

Dear Raina Sa'eb,

rk towards helping us tobe in touch with our mothertongue. I have a humblerequest to make.

I am working on thehistory of sources of Śaivism in Kashmirilanguage. Of course, I am aware of popularlyknown vāks, śruks etc. of Lal Ded, Sheikh-ul-alam, Roop Bhawani, Svach Kral, ShamasFaqir and many others. I am particularlylooking for the unpublished manuscript

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Letters to Editor

Praagaash60



materials of the Vāks of Mirza Kāk ofHangulgond (there are only some Vākspublished in an Urdu book of Sarvanand K ulPremi), Tika Kāk (Tika Rām Ganjoo - he livedat Madan Yar, Habba adal) and Bona Kāk ofPinglin, Pulwama. Tika Rām and Bona Kākhad a discip e Thakur Joo Saproo from GulabBagh in Ganderbal who has also composedsome Vāks.

I am looking for the original manuscriptseither in Śāradā or Devanāgari or Nastaliq.The Vāks of Tika Kāk and Bona Kāk arepublished in two volumes by Baljinath Panditbut this work has lot of limitations and hencethere is a need to look at the originalmanuscripts. I shall be really grateful if youcan publish this note in your magazine. I amaware of all the available material in print, but Ishall be truly grateful if anyone can share withme any unpublished manuscripts of the Vāksof these scholars or can let me know where tofind them.

o

K

l

Sincerely,

After going through the articlein March 2020 edition ‘OurCustoms, Rites & RitualsYegneopavit or Mekhla’, Ihave made the followingobservations for informationof all Praagaash esteemedreaders:Abhid (alms) is collected inBhiksha Patr also. Mekhla (Yagnopavit) isone of the traditional samaskara (rites ofpassage) the ceremonial ritual by which theyoung boy is invested with the ‘Sacred Thread’to symbolize the transference of spiritualknowledge, vedangas (Vedangas mean

Dear Raina Sahib,

Mrinal Kaul

[email protected]

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‘limbs of the Veda’). There are six auxiliarydisciplines in Vedic culture that developed inancient times, and have been connected withthe study of the Vedas. These are: Shiksha,Chandas, Vyakarana, Nirukta, Kalpa,Jyotisha, arts and other skills. Three threads,signify Goddesses Gayatri (thought),Saraswati (word) and Savitri (deed). It alsostands for Shiva, Vishnu & Brahma. Lot ofinterpretations are there and scientific onebased on Prana energy is sattva, rajas andtamas. Girls also have upanyanam accordingto Yajur Veda. Girls wear the threads aroundthe neck in Kashmiri culture, it was followed invery early years.Thanks & Regards,

This issue of Praagaash andthe Supplement Zoona Dabare highly nostalgic. ZoonDub was a huge hit during ourchildhood days in Kashmir.The way you have given thedetails in Praagaash issimply superb. I salute youfor your dedication and passion. You are asource of inspiration for all of us.

Zoone Dab supplement is anice addition. Its precursorhappened to be Wotal Bujiwhich became popular in 1965war. Incidentally MumbaiRadio or TV station tried toemulate Zoone Dab but it

Samit Bhatt

Faridabad

Dear Sir,

Rajesh RainaHyderabad

Dear Raina Sahib,

[email protected]

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Letters to Editor

Praagaash61



resulted in mayhem and consternation inState administration and the programme hadto be abandoned.

Excellent March 2020 Issue.Your Supplement on ZoonDab is perfect. You have leftnothing untold about it.Congratulations.

I found your illustratedcollection of 5 short stories forthe young ‘Pentachord’ in mylibrary. It was presented to meby my brother in law and your friend lateAshwani Parimoo.Regards.

Praagaash is undoubtedlyattaining its desired dueheights, under your ablestewardship. May God Grantyou more of physical, moraland mental courage to serveyour mother tongue in abefitting manner so that weall Kashmiris, wherever weare, become proud of our maji-zev. Since thediaspora is not fully conversant with Nastaliq,your Nagari version of the same makes iteasier for the readers to understand thepublished material. God bless us all.

K i n d l y a c c e p t m y h e a r t i e s tCongratulations for the Krishen Joo RazdanSaraswati Puruskar conferred upon yourecently by Jammu Kashmir Vichar Manch foryour untiring services to our maji-zev.

Deepak BudkiNew Delhi

Dear Raina Sahib,

Prof. B. L. KaulJammu

Dear Raina Sahib,

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With regards.

I wish to learn Kashmiri, howdo I go about it? I live inGurgaon. I am Kashmiri butwe have migrated fromKashmir two centuries back.No one in my householdknows Kashmiri. I am 62years old. Can you pleasehelp me.

Zoona Dab is very good. Itfeels so nice to know all theartistes we had once heard onRadio Kashmir. My husband'sgrandpa Shr i GopinathKaushik was a very wellknown f igure in RadioKashmi r, Sr inagar andJammu. Also my another relative Shri KailashNath Kaul (Maikash) was also associated withthe radio.

This is with reference to theSupplement Zoon Dabissued with the March issueof Praagaash. Thanks a lotf o r r e v i v i n g m y o l dmemories. There was nobetter programme thathumorously commented on

Rajinder PremiNew Delhi

Dear Sir,

Sanjay KharGurgaon

Sir,

Supriya KaushikMumbai

Dear Sir,

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Letters to Editor

Praagaash62



everyday life and a feedback to government toattend to problems faced by citizens.

The article on Zoon Dab in Praagaash wasvery nostalgic. Like every one else, I used tolisten to this program regularly. Thanks a lotfor refreshing memories of those good olddays of the valley. I would like to subscribe toPraagaash. Please let me know theprocedure for that.

Let me at the outsetcompliment you for a verydetailed feature in ‘Praagash’on ‘Zoone Dab’, the classicalRadio Kashmir production ofseventies/ eighties.

This program used tobe a very popular andpositive one in Kashmirilanguage liked by one and all. I grew uplistening to this program and jelled up with thepopular characters and gave a real feeling ofhomely conversation in our ‘dewan khan’, thedrawing room.

Zoona Dab was perhaps the single suchprogram being broadcasted on RadioKashmir, which had no parallel, around thattime in broadcasting industry in Indian subcontinent. This program highlighted our day today issues connected with our social,economic and political developments as avery lucid and popular household talk show. It

Suren TikuPune, Maharashtra

Dear Editor,

V.K.KhodaBangalore

Dear Raina Sahib,

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[Editor replies: There is no subscription forPraagaash. You have been listed on thePraagaash Mailing 2]

represented women, children, relatives,domestic help and even elderly people(pensioners), in outlook and the issues of dayto day life .

Hope in near future we can have asimilar program produced by the RadioIndustry in Kashmir and also in rest of thecountry. I would suggest that a document begenerated on ‘Zoona Dab’ for us to rememberour evolution as a progressive and forwardlooking society besides for the benefit of thes t u d e n t s a n d t e a c h e r s o f ‘ M a s sCommunication Education’ at KashmirUniversity .

Fortunately we have amongst us thechild artists of those days like Ms NayeemaMahjoor and Mr Arif Bashir, both happen to bemy close friends, I wish them all the best,happiness and health. As a gratefulcommunity, we need to felicitate them in abefitting manner, as a gratitude andremembrance of their contributions in beingpart of the countless episodes of Zoona Daband in other spheres of broadcasting inKashmiri language. Regards,

It was a treat to read Marchissue of Praagaash and theZoona Dab story. You havereally worked hard on it.Thanks a lot for workingtirelessly without any self-interest for the preservation,promotion, propagation ande n l i g h t e n i n g K a s h m i r ilanguage called Kaashir zaban. God blessyou.

Dr. G.N.QasbaSrinagar

Dear Raina Sahib,

Er. Manzoor NawchooSrinagar

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Letters to Editor

Praagaash63



Dear Maharaj Krishen,I congratulate you forbringing out the secondsupplement to Pragaash onZoona Dab. It was a dreamjourney back in time to gothrough the story of thisflagship serial program ofRadio Kashmir which wenton for an epic period of seventeen yearsduring the sixties and seventies of the lastcentury. It revived the memory of halcyondays in Kashmir when radio used to be a greatentertainer second only to the cinema and thepicnics to Mogul gardens. More importantly,radio was a vital source of information andeducation until Zoona Dab provided anadditional social platform.

The title, Zoon Dab, was tantalizing andthe program stood the test of time. Throughwitty and satirical conversation sitting in theZoona Dab (moon balcony) of an archetypalmiddle class Kashmir family, the radio artistskept everyone spell bound. It was the deliveryas much as the content that held you captiveday after day. It was entertaining and re-creative. The humour left you laughing for therest of the day and we rued its absence onSundays. More importantly, it unraveled thewoes of common man and woman vis a vissocial evils, the official apathy to the travails ofcitizens, the bureaucratic highhandedness,and the culture of greed and corruption thathad begun to plague the fabric of society.

Zoona Dab also helped create apolitical awareness. It was a healthy diversionfor the people from the barrage of corrosivepropaganda beamed from across the borderfrom PoK. It was, in essence, a great leapforward in broadcasting. The positiveinfluence of radio on Kashmiris has hardly anyparallel to Zoona Dab which identified with theaspirations of common citizenry and became

a sounding board to the authorities.In the process, an idea was given shape

through a new radio idiom that createdmemorable characters like A ,

, Most of the artists thatcame to be associated with Zoona Dab made abig name for themselves. Truly, accepting achallenge often unfolds the hidden potentialand gets the best out of a person.

I happened to know at least one of thepioneers, Padmashri Pushkar Bhan, who hasfrequented our home several times. He was amultifaceted genius. Alas, after he sustained ahead injury, he was never the same again. Hiscreative potential received a great setback. Ialso happened to be his physician in his laterdays when he was forced to migrate to Jammulike thousands of Pandits, almost forgotten bythe authorities.

Thank you again for a yeoman's serviceto recreate, and bring a flavor of those times inprint. The pictures are perfect and theluminaries stand tall as ever. They haveimmortalized radio Kashmir and themselves inthe bargain.

gha Seb MamaPipji Jaga Pension etc.

Dr. K.L.ChowdhuryRoop Nagar, Jammu

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Dear Raina Sahib,

Seema GanjooBandra, Mumbai

I loved the zoon Dabsupplement. I remember mygrandfather listening to it andwe would sit around him andkeep asking him to interpretwhenever we could not getthe jokes. Not only was it funto see Papaji laughinguproariously but hearing his explanation wouldmake us laugh even more. I was surprised thatmy husband had not heard about it. Loved the‘Srikanth is Sirikanth’. Thanks for adding that.

Documents

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