It has almost become routine to slight Hindu sentiments — our smart-set do not even notice the slights they administer. Recall the jibe of decades: ‘the Hindu rate of growth’. When, because of those very socialist policies that their kind had swallowed and imposed on the country, our growth was held down to 3-4 per cent, it was dubbed — with much glee — as ‘the Hindu rate of growth’. Today, we are growing at 9 per cent. And, if you are to believe the nonsense in Sachar’s report, the minorities are not growing at all. So, who is responsible for this higher rate of growth? The Hindus! How come no one calls this higher rate of growth ‘the Hindu rate of growth’? Simple: dubbing the low rate as the Hindu one established you to be secular; not acknowledging the higher one as the Hindu rate establishes you to be secular!
Or M.F. Husain. He is a kindly man, and a prodigiously productive artist. There is no warrant at all for disrupting all his exhibitions. I am on the point of sensibilities. His depictions of Hindu goddesses have been in the news: he has painted them in less than skimpy attire. I particularly remember one in which Sita is riding Hanuman’s stiffened tail — of course, she is scarcely clad, but that is the least of it: you need no imagination at all to see what she is rubbing up against that stiffened tail. Well, in the case of an artist, that is just inspiration, say the secularists. OK. The question that arises then is: How come in the seventy-five years Husain has been painting, he has not once felt inspired, not once, to paint the face of the Prophet? It doesn’t have to be in the style in which he has painted the Hindu goddesses. Why not the most beautiful, the most radiant and luminous face that he can imagine? How come he has never felt inspired to paint women revered in Islam, or in his own family, in the same style as the one that propelled his inspiration in regard to Hindu goddesses?
‘In painting the goddesses, he was just honouring them,’ a secular intellectual remarked at a discussion the other day. ‘It was his way of honouring them.’ Fine. It is indeed the case that one of the best ways we can honour someone is to put the one skill we have at the service of the person or deity. But how come that Husain never but never thought of honouring the Prophet by using the same priceless skill, that one ‘talent which is death to hide’?
‘Has Mr Shourie ever visited Khajuraho?,’ a member of the audience asked, the implication being that, as Hindu sculptors had depicted personages naked, what was wrong with Husain depicting the goddesses in the same style. Fine again. But surely, it is no one’s case that the ‘Khajuraho style’ must be confined to Hindu icons. Why has the artist, so skilled in deploying the Khajuraho motifs, never used them for icons of Islam? The reason why an artist desists from depicting the Prophet’s face is none of these convoluted disquisitions on style.
The reason is simplicity itself: he knows he will be thrashed, and his hands smashed.
Exactly the same holds for politics. How come no one objects when for years a Muslim politician keeps publishing maps of constituencies in which Muslims as Muslims can determine the outcome, and exhorting them to do so? When, not just an individual politician but entire political parties — from the Congress to the Left parties — stir Muslims up as a vote bank. When Muslims start behaving like a vote bank, you can be certain that someone will get the idea that Hindus too should be welded into a vote bank, and eventually they will get welded into one. Why is stoking Muslims ‘secular’ and stoking Hindus ‘communal’?
And yet perverted discourse, even the stratagems of political parties, are but preparation: they prepare the ground for capitulation by the state to groups that are aggressive. And in this the real lunacy is about to be launched, and, with that, the real reaction.
read complete article here
http://www.indianexpress.com/story/254969._.html#
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
The Harbinger of Renaissance in Kashmir Poetry-Dina Nath Nadim(Rashneek Kher in Greater Kashmir)
The cascade was convulsed with laughterNot aware who cried how much…. With the onset of 14th century the cultural renaissance in Kashmir had almost come to an abrupt end. The era of new ideas and fertile philosophical thoughts had died down owing to hostile historical and cultural incursions in the otherwise enlightened house of Sharda. The great mystical poet and genius, Lal-Ded was probably the last new philosophical thought to have dawned in Kashmir till the time Dina Nath Nadim arose on the poetic firmament. Eminent Kashmiri scholar Dr.S.S.Toshkhani says and I quote “If you took out themes related to mysticism and love from Kashmiri poetry, there would remain nothing else at all”. The literary stagnation or death of ideas can be attributed to the fanatic and intolerant rulers who ruled Kashmir 14th century onwards till the arrival of British rule in Kashmir.
Read complete article here
http://www.greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=25_12_2007&ItemID=38&cat=12
Read complete article here
http://www.greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=25_12_2007&ItemID=38&cat=12
Monday, December 10, 2007
Bigoted Killers!
My happiness was taken over by a deep sense of grief when a journalist friend of mine sent me the news of a suicide bomber blowing a school bus.The suicide bomber was blown to pieces as were nine people including five children.The school bus belonged to the Kamra Air Force base school,Attock,Pakistan.My friend had sent a note with the news clipping, It read” This is getting ridiculous! It seems like Kashmir all over again, only this time in a different valley”
I traveled back many years and was reminded of an equally gruesome murder by Yasin Malik and his band of terrorists killing four un-armed IAF officers who were waiting to board a bus.In a bizarre twist of fate, Yasin Malik today is a “protector of human rights and a victim of the State” .His erstwhile accomplices vie for the same media attention that he commands thanks largely to the pro-separatist(read terrorist) English Channels like CNN-IBN and NDTV. They too try and emulate him in every conceivable way from sitting on Dharnas to taking peace marches but alas!Yasin Malik can get visas to any country, has an Indian Passport despite dozens of criminal cases pending against him his former accomplices are still stuck in Kashmir both metaphorically as well literally.
That Kashmir evokes strong emotions was a passé yesterday.It evokes ever toddlers to shout”Jis Kashmir ko khoon se seencha…who Kashmir Hamra Hai”.Walking alongside these 40 odd kids (dressed in Kashmiri attire and RIK head bands)I realized we are walking with the future and the past at the same time.There was a gory past that forced us out of our motherland but here alongside me walked hope.I was immersed in a sea of joy and the response to the event made my joy even greater.However as I was trying to collect the press clippings to assimilate them for posterity,the bad news of this bigoted suicide bomber killing innocent people much like Yasin Malik (who did the same on chilly winter morning in 1990) pulled me into the abyss of grief .
Nietzsche resounded in my ears
When you gaze into the abyss,the abyss gazes back at you.
In grief......
Rashneek Kher
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Secular Communists pack Taslima Nasreen to communal BJP state
nikalna khurd se aadam ka sunte aaye hain lekin
bahut be aabroo ho kar tere kooche se hum nikle
An eyewitness account of 1947 tribesmen raid on Kashmir by T N Bhan
My name is Triloki Nath Bhan and I was 18 years old young boy living in Sehyar, test Srinagar when Pakistani Army along with Kabailies from North West Frontier Province, launched a series of surprise attacks across Jammu and Kashmir on October 24, 1947. As is well known the Pakistani invaders quickly overwhelmed the the forces of Maharaja Hari Singh. Most of the Muslim units of J& K Army comprising of Mirpuri deserted and joined the invaders after killing their Hindu and Sikh Officers. Muzzafarabd fell within a few hours of the attack and the invaders proceeded towards Baramula, Sopore and Srinagar. At the Uri bridge Brigadier Rajinder Singh lost his life putting up a valiant fight .He held the invaders for two days which gave time to the Maharajah to flee the valley. and the Indian Army to intervene.
read the full text here
http://kashmiris-in-exile.blogspot.com/2007/11/eyewitness-account-of-1947-raid-by.html
read the full text here
http://kashmiris-in-exile.blogspot.com/2007/11/eyewitness-account-of-1947-raid-by.html
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Sir Syed Day and AMU Tarana
Come 17th of Oct and AMU would look new,fresh and breathing all over again.For sometime it would seem we are far from the political playground that the campus has been reduced to.Sir Syed Day meant celebration.The University would be lit up and from some distance it would seem as if sky had come down to kiss the dust of our alma mater.I would think it wasnt without reason that Majaz wrote these powerful lines which all of us proudly sang.If there is one song which arouses the feeling of camarderie,pride and passion it always is the AMU tarana.
The lines that moved all of us are here(courtesy-aligarians.com)
ye meraa chaman hai meraa chaman, maiN apne chaman kaa bulbul huuN
sarshaar-e-nigaah-e-nargis huuN, paa-bastaa-e-gesuu-sumbul huuN
ye meraa chaman hai meraa chaman, maiN apne chaman ka bulbul huuN
jo taaq-e-haram meN roshan hai, vo shamaa yahaaN bhii jaltii hai
jo taaq-e-haram meN roshan hai, vo shamaa yahaaN bhii jaltii hai
is dasht ke goshe-goshe se, ek juu-e-hayaat ubaltii hai
ye dasht-e-junuuN diivaanoN kaa, ye bazm-e-vafaa parvaanoN kii
ye shahr-e-tarab ruumaanoN kaa, ye Khuld-e-bariiN armaanoN ki
ifitrat ne sikhaii hai ham ko,uftaad yahaaN parvaaz yahaaN
gaaye haiN vafaa ke giit yahaaN, chheRaa hai junuuN kaa saaz yahaaN
ye meraa chaman hai meraa chaman, maiN apne chaman ka bulbul huuN
is bazm meN teGheN khenchiiN haiN, is bazm meN saGhar toRe haiN
is bazm meN teGheN khenchiiN haiN, is bazm meN saGhar toRe haiN
is bazm meN aanKh bichaa’ii hai, is bazm meN dil tak joRe haiN
har shaam hai shaam-e-Misr yahaaN, har shab hai shab-e-Sheeraz yahaaN
hai saare jahaaN kaa soz yahaaN aur saare jahaaN kaa saaz yahaaN
zarraat kaa bosaa lene ko, sau baar jhukaa aakaash yahaaN
Khud aankh se ham ne dekhii hai, baatil kii shikast-e-faash yahaaN
ye mera chaman hai mera chaman, main apne chaman ka bulbul hun
jo abr yahaaN se uThThega, vo saare jahaaN par barsegaa
jo abr yahaaN se uThThega, vo saare jahaaN par barsegaa
har juu-e-ravaan par barsegaa, har koh-e-garaaN par barsegaa
har sard-o-saman par barsegaa, har dasht-o-daman par barsegaa
Khud apne chaman par barsegaa, GhairoN ke chaman par barsegaa
har shahr-e-tarab par garjegaa, har qasr-e-tarab par kaRkegaa
ye abr hameshaa barsaa hai, ye abr hameshaa barsegaa
ye abr hameshaa barsaa hai, ye abr hameshaa barsegaa
ye abr hameshaa barsaa hai, ye abr hameshaa barsegaa
barsegaa, barsegaa, barsegaa…………………
Monday, October 8, 2007
God Suffers in POK
Mangla Temple-Once a greatly revered shrine,now in tatters
Picture Courtesy-Hanif Garib
Main Khush hua masjid-e-veeran ko dekh kar
Mere tarah khuda ka bhi khana kharab hai
Migrant Kashmiris yearn to return by Aastha Manocha(in The Indian Express)
It was a hot day otherwise but up on Hari Parbat, it is only strong cool winds that one feels. Hari Parbat is one of the landmarks in Kashmir, which housed the Sharika Devi Temple. However, for exiled Kashmiri Hindus who do not have the luxury of their homeland, this replica in Faridabad will have to do, for now. This is also the place where the exiled Kashmiri Hindus now living in Delhi and NCR areas meet often.
This Sunday on October 6, the occasion was to commemorate the 1st anniversary of Roots In Kashmir, a Kashmiri Hindu organization formed with the long-term aim of returning home. The under-running sentiment of returning is unfathomable to an outsider after hearing their stories, of giving up house and hearth and escaping Kashmir by the night, not daring to raise their heads until after crossing the Jawahar tunnel, of the humiliation of living in camps with bare minimum of supplies. But return they will, even if their properties are no longer theirs, as one of them puts it, ‘Even if I couldn’t live there, I would prefer to die there’. The pleasure of pain and pining maybe.
The meeting starts with prayers in the Temple of Goddess Shaarika, believed to be an incarnation of Goddess Lakshmi. It is followed by deliberations of the organization’s role so far and future plans. The group is not very large and is pretty informal, but the underlying feeling of camaraderie is hard to miss as they talk among themselves in rapid Kashmiri or sing ‘Leela’, a music form of Kashmiris.
The Kashmiri Hindus, often known as Kashmiri Pandits due to their culture of learning under their presiding deity Sharda, are a proud lot willing to fight for their place in the rich Kashmiri history. In fact, there is much outrage at the notion that the Kashmiri script was always in Urdu. The original Kashmiri script was in the Sharda script, named after the Goddess of intellect, Sharda, they assert, quoting the Rajtarangini, an ancient treatise on Kashmiri history.
The temple complex is built on land donated by the villagers of Anangpur, where it is built. The temple was funded by JN Kaul, head of SOS India, and built with the help of the villagers. Remaining true to the original structure, this temple too has a total of 258 stairs, which take one high up to the place where there is a single statue of Goddess, surrounded by paintings of the other deities, all of them goddesses. The view of the village and open spaces below is perhaps fitting to the pastoral way of life the Kashmiris are used to.
As the conversation veers to those still languishing in camps, it is surprising to hear that many who have been brought up in those camps are MA’s or MBA ’s. Apparently the culture of learning manifests itself with parents staying up at nights fending off snakes during long power cuts so that their children’s studies go unhindered. However, problems still galore as these young graduates are in need of counselling and guidance. Sunil Ji Bhat, a student of post-graduation in mass communication, recounts his experiences, “the camp school functioned through tents in senior secondary it shifted to a rented house. My school never had a library, let alone a computer.”
This Sunday on October 6, the occasion was to commemorate the 1st anniversary of Roots In Kashmir, a Kashmiri Hindu organization formed with the long-term aim of returning home. The under-running sentiment of returning is unfathomable to an outsider after hearing their stories, of giving up house and hearth and escaping Kashmir by the night, not daring to raise their heads until after crossing the Jawahar tunnel, of the humiliation of living in camps with bare minimum of supplies. But return they will, even if their properties are no longer theirs, as one of them puts it, ‘Even if I couldn’t live there, I would prefer to die there’. The pleasure of pain and pining maybe.
The meeting starts with prayers in the Temple of Goddess Shaarika, believed to be an incarnation of Goddess Lakshmi. It is followed by deliberations of the organization’s role so far and future plans. The group is not very large and is pretty informal, but the underlying feeling of camaraderie is hard to miss as they talk among themselves in rapid Kashmiri or sing ‘Leela’, a music form of Kashmiris.
The Kashmiri Hindus, often known as Kashmiri Pandits due to their culture of learning under their presiding deity Sharda, are a proud lot willing to fight for their place in the rich Kashmiri history. In fact, there is much outrage at the notion that the Kashmiri script was always in Urdu. The original Kashmiri script was in the Sharda script, named after the Goddess of intellect, Sharda, they assert, quoting the Rajtarangini, an ancient treatise on Kashmiri history.
The temple complex is built on land donated by the villagers of Anangpur, where it is built. The temple was funded by JN Kaul, head of SOS India, and built with the help of the villagers. Remaining true to the original structure, this temple too has a total of 258 stairs, which take one high up to the place where there is a single statue of Goddess, surrounded by paintings of the other deities, all of them goddesses. The view of the village and open spaces below is perhaps fitting to the pastoral way of life the Kashmiris are used to.
As the conversation veers to those still languishing in camps, it is surprising to hear that many who have been brought up in those camps are MA’s or MBA ’s. Apparently the culture of learning manifests itself with parents staying up at nights fending off snakes during long power cuts so that their children’s studies go unhindered. However, problems still galore as these young graduates are in need of counselling and guidance. Sunil Ji Bhat, a student of post-graduation in mass communication, recounts his experiences, “the camp school functioned through tents in senior secondary it shifted to a rented house. My school never had a library, let alone a computer.”
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Muslim Scholar visits sacred Shrine of Sharda-Neeraj Santoshi
It was a special moment for Prof Ayaz Rasool Nazki, when he reached Shardha temple in Pakistan Occupied Kashmir (POK), becoming one of the first few Kashmiris after partition to have visited the revered shrine, considered to be oldest temple in the region.
``I strongly felt the spirit of my forefathers there who have visited the shrine for thousands of years’’, said Prof Nazki, while giving an account of his journey to the shrine at Jammu University here recently. Prof Nazki is a noted scholar of the state with many books to his credit and is presently registrar at Baba Ghulam Shah Badshah University, Rajouri. ``
It is difficult to put in words the time I spent at the shrine. It is a place to be experienced. The temple may not be in its pristine glory, but the energy of the place is same, it immensely affects you. I couldn’t even sleep that night there, as I wanted to treasure all the moments spent in that area, filled with divine aura and grace’’, said Prof Nazki.
He had visited shrine on July 3-4, located in Neelam district in Shardha tehsil of POK, near an army unit. Stressing that Shardha temple is a symbol of ``our common heritage, cultural ethos and roots’’, Prof Nazki said that he was happy to see the temple structure standing there as he didn’t expect that it would have survived last 60 years without much specialised care.
``Most surprising fact is that the devastating October 5, 2005 earthquake has not affected the shrine at all or even the Shardha tehsil at all, while the rest of the areas in POK has witnessed much destruction’’, he said. He added that the temple has a square base with each side measuring nearly 24 feet and is nearly 30 feet high. He said that floor of the sanctum sanctorum of the shrine is filled with soil, with spring within the sanctorum perhaps having got filled up. ``
The 8X8 feet stone slab which is said to have covered the spring was nowhere to be seen’’, he said. The detailed photo presentation on the Shardhapeeth at Jammu University made many Kashmiri Pandits present on the occasion very emotional. Pandits have not been able to visit this shrine for last half a century, after LOC separated the two Kashmiris. The shrine is barely 10 miles across LOC in Kupwara region in the upper Kishenganga valley (also called Neelum valley) in a small village Shardhi. The shrine is atop a hillock at a height of about 550 metres on the left bank of Kishenganga river, with 63 stone steps taking one to the shrine.
Narrating his experiences of the visit, Prof Nazki said that he is the first lucky Kahmiri to visit the shrine after 1947. Asserting that a mechanism needs to be drawn for its immediate protection and restoration, Prof Nazki said that all the universities on both the sides should join hands in the preservation of this great heritage of the region. Adi Shankaracharya is said to have visited this shrine in 8th/9th century AD and penned the famous ‘Saudharya Lahri’ in praise of the Goddess.
Shardha Temple in POK : Some pointers
§ Goddess Shardha is considered to be the presiding deity of Kashmir valley.
§ From ancient times, Kashmir has been called Shardhapeeth or Shardha Mandalam.
§ Considered to be the oldest temple of Kashmir.
§ Adi Shankaracharya is said to have visited the shrine in 8th/9th century AD.
§ Annual Shardha pilgrimage used to take place on 8th of the bright fortnight of bhadon (September).
§ The sanctum sanctorum of the temple had a spring covered with a 8 by 8 feet stone slab, which was worshipped by the devotees.
§ Shardha temple located atop the hillock near the confluence of rivers Kishenganga, Saraswati and Madhumati.
NEERAJ SANTOSHI
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
35th Year of Existence
Raevem kati anzeraevem vaens
Tinke phaelen mansevaem vaens(Moti Lal Saqi)
The English calendar hade a note of caution for me this morning. It wanted to say ” you have stepped into senility” but what it instead said was it was 13th of September 2007.
35 years I have existed on this earth. What use I thought was my being here but since I was bundled off by God almighty from wherever to here I had no option but to exist till God bundles me off elsewhere. I know he/she/it whatever God Almighty stands for, can be cruel, unfair and biased but what power do I have but to accept his/her/its will with flinching faith and disobedience.
I have swung between faith and infidelity. There have been times when I have had profound faith, but at times, with equal zeal would negate the very existence of God and sometimes go a step further. I would say “God Exists” but is an evil manifestation, enjoys bloodshed and anarchy. I would substantiate it by quoting how world history has few moments of peace and calm, but is replete with violence despite our belief that God keeps sending his messengers of peace or sometimes appearing himself to set things right.
Yesterday I went to buy a book as a present for my 35th year of existence. I had gone with an intention of buying Nietzsche’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra”. The bookseller who is a Nietzsche and a Picasso rolled into one, is one the most well read people who I have ever met. He sells old and used books at a footpath in Nehru Place, while he keeps sketching, people have a hard time finding a book. He seldom tries to sell any book. He intrigues me and interests me a lot. He doesn’t wear his religion up his sleeve but sports a beard which looks Islamic. I couldn’t find the book I wanted, exasperated, I asked him if he had short stories of Kafka. His question stupefied me. He said, what are you scared of !I said nothing. He replied we would read Kafka, if he lived in Gujarat and I lived in Pakistan. An argument I disagreed with but I did say I needed Kafka then. I am in exile, I am a Kashmiri.I ended up buying a small book on Greek Philosophers and Dostovesky’s Crime and Punishment. I had to leave Dostovesky in the company of Abhinavagupt when I fled my land, my reason for reading Kafka.
My birthdays in Kashmir would often coincide with a festival of Pan (a fertility cult goddess festival) which Kashmiri Pandits celebrate. Kashmir at this time would be looking all dressed up to welcome winter, the chinars with their golden leaves would resemble the last embers of a Yogi’s sacred fireplace and people would be earnestly shopping for Kangris.Weather would be pleasant and the chill of the night would add to the flavour of grandmas rendering of Saen-kaeser. On this day I would generally miss school and run around rice fields where people would be harvesting paddy. The pastoral lifestyle, which I miss everyday makes me curse God,while cursing I fear the reprisal when I will stand on the day of judgement.
In bated breath I recite Ghalib’s following verse
“Ibn Mariam hua kare koi,mere dukh ki dawa kare koi
Bak raha hoon junoon main kya kya kuch,kuch ne samjhe khuda kare koi”
Tinke phaelen mansevaem vaens(Moti Lal Saqi)
The English calendar hade a note of caution for me this morning. It wanted to say ” you have stepped into senility” but what it instead said was it was 13th of September 2007.
35 years I have existed on this earth. What use I thought was my being here but since I was bundled off by God almighty from wherever to here I had no option but to exist till God bundles me off elsewhere. I know he/she/it whatever God Almighty stands for, can be cruel, unfair and biased but what power do I have but to accept his/her/its will with flinching faith and disobedience.
I have swung between faith and infidelity. There have been times when I have had profound faith, but at times, with equal zeal would negate the very existence of God and sometimes go a step further. I would say “God Exists” but is an evil manifestation, enjoys bloodshed and anarchy. I would substantiate it by quoting how world history has few moments of peace and calm, but is replete with violence despite our belief that God keeps sending his messengers of peace or sometimes appearing himself to set things right.
Yesterday I went to buy a book as a present for my 35th year of existence. I had gone with an intention of buying Nietzsche’s “Thus Spake Zarathustra”. The bookseller who is a Nietzsche and a Picasso rolled into one, is one the most well read people who I have ever met. He sells old and used books at a footpath in Nehru Place, while he keeps sketching, people have a hard time finding a book. He seldom tries to sell any book. He intrigues me and interests me a lot. He doesn’t wear his religion up his sleeve but sports a beard which looks Islamic. I couldn’t find the book I wanted, exasperated, I asked him if he had short stories of Kafka. His question stupefied me. He said, what are you scared of !I said nothing. He replied we would read Kafka, if he lived in Gujarat and I lived in Pakistan. An argument I disagreed with but I did say I needed Kafka then. I am in exile, I am a Kashmiri.I ended up buying a small book on Greek Philosophers and Dostovesky’s Crime and Punishment. I had to leave Dostovesky in the company of Abhinavagupt when I fled my land, my reason for reading Kafka.
My birthdays in Kashmir would often coincide with a festival of Pan (a fertility cult goddess festival) which Kashmiri Pandits celebrate. Kashmir at this time would be looking all dressed up to welcome winter, the chinars with their golden leaves would resemble the last embers of a Yogi’s sacred fireplace and people would be earnestly shopping for Kangris.Weather would be pleasant and the chill of the night would add to the flavour of grandmas rendering of Saen-kaeser. On this day I would generally miss school and run around rice fields where people would be harvesting paddy. The pastoral lifestyle, which I miss everyday makes me curse God,while cursing I fear the reprisal when I will stand on the day of judgement.
In bated breath I recite Ghalib’s following verse
“Ibn Mariam hua kare koi,mere dukh ki dawa kare koi
Bak raha hoon junoon main kya kya kuch,kuch ne samjhe khuda kare koi”
Monday, September 10, 2007
Bitta Karate and Zia Yahya
There was a strange sense of deja-vu when I received this reply from someone called Zia Yahya.
"Date:
Mon, 10 Sep 2007 14:01:05 +0100 (BST)
From:
"zia yahya"
Subject:Re: People take to streets against a dreaded terrorist
To:
"rashneek kher"
bitta karate is freedom fighter,everyone's freedom fighter is someone's terrorists,for kashmiries indians and their army and agencies are terrorists, who are terrorizing innocent people in kashmir.bitta karate has killed those terrorists who had links with these terrorist agencies of a terrorist country, i am proud of him for his job.long live bitta"
My memory took me many years back, well to be precise 18 years, when Bitta Karate's name was synonymous with terror. When he killed Dolly, a Muslim girl, she was yet to see her 16th spring. I was later told she had refused his overtures for an amour. There were many more who were killed by this personification of everything that comprises evil.
But that’s not the point that I am trying to make. While most of our Muslim brethren have condemned in private what Bitta Karate did, they have abstained from making their views on this issue public and understandably so. They don’t want to add to his tally of murders but adding their name to it.What disturbs me is people like Zia,who I am sure are a minority in Kashmir, but a vociferous,vitureptive and vicious minority who may never want peace to return to our motherland.
So what is Zia proud of,I asked myself.Bitta Karate isn't known to killed anyone who carried a weapon.He is primarily responsible for killing unarmed people,even when he killed Indian Air officials they were simply waiting to board a bus,thus unarmed.
I can understand this entire romanticisation around rebels and daciots or even criminals since most of the humans have an intrinsic evil in us,but then most of us weave images of evil in Robin Hood frames rather than "Jack the Ripper"frames.So in that sense I can imagine Osama bin Laden being someone's (even after whatever he stands for) pride,I fail to understand whats there in being proud of someone who has killed because of a sickness of compulsion to kill unarmed and innocent people.
I hope the new"Zia" is not an re-incarnation of Gen.Zia-ul-Haque and Yahya Khan .If that be the case Allah be with us.A Nero is born.
Monday, September 3, 2007
This one has no title
I tried various ways of writing this.Everytime I tried writing something it wouldn’t come as it should.
I am celebrating today the 17th anniversary of my home being burnt by “Warriors of God”. A friend told me they looted my home before they burnt it down.
It was a house by the brook.
It was a house in the courtyard of which me,Yasin,Shafiq,Pintoo,Mushtaq and my brother played cricket.
There were Khan’s who lived right across the brook.
Mohd Yusuf lived one house away.
Kahej Taet further up the Gaas Chareey(gazing ground),infront of her house were people we called Tine-wael(they lived in a house made of asbestos, for some odd reason)
There were orchards all around and some rice fields too.
Kaul’s lived some 500 meters away.
I still can’t write it well…it is hard to write it well, as I rue the loss of my home, my identity and my existence, I miss all my childhood friends and neighbours.
This is my pain..someone help please...
I am celebrating today the 17th anniversary of my home being burnt by “Warriors of God”. A friend told me they looted my home before they burnt it down.
It was a house by the brook.
It was a house in the courtyard of which me,Yasin,Shafiq,Pintoo,Mushtaq and my brother played cricket.
There were Khan’s who lived right across the brook.
Mohd Yusuf lived one house away.
Kahej Taet further up the Gaas Chareey(gazing ground),infront of her house were people we called Tine-wael(they lived in a house made of asbestos, for some odd reason)
There were orchards all around and some rice fields too.
Kaul’s lived some 500 meters away.
I still can’t write it well…it is hard to write it well, as I rue the loss of my home, my identity and my existence, I miss all my childhood friends and neighbours.
This is my pain..someone help please...
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
This is Heart Speaking-by Manzoor Fazili
Manzoor Fazili is someone I adore.His columns have been a source of inspiration,peace and quest for knowledge.A voice of sanity among us Kashmiris,he retains what all of us seem to have lost.
Read this one here
Allah! give us more Manzoor Fazilis,let peace return to all of us.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Kashmir-Foreign Invaders seek Independence(My column in Meri news Picks)
This was the beginning of miseries for the people of Kashmir. The rather notorious role of Sayyid Ali Hamdani (popularly called Shah-i-Hamdan in Kashmir by Muslims) in changing the mindset of foreign Muslim invaders-cum-rulers from fairly benign to extremely fanatic Muslims is clear from the fact that he asked Sultan-Qutubdin to impose Shariah (Islamic Laws) in Kashmir. About Sayyid Ali Hamdani, Bahiristan-i-Shahi says (and I quote): “Again it needs to be recorded that for some of the time which the holy Amir spent in Kashmir he lived in a sarai at ’Alau’d-Din Pora. At the site where his khanqah was built, there existed a small temple, which was demolished so he could offer namaz (prayer) five times a day and recite portions of the Quran morning and evening. Sultan Qutbu’d-Din occasionally attended these congregational prayers.” I am choosing a Muslim source to quote, for, it lends credence to the fact that such demolitions were glorified and even considered righteous by the Muslim rulers, historians and the Amirs. After the death of Sultan-Qutubdin, he was succeeded by his son Sultan Sikandar, who needs no introduction.
Read complete article here
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Mansur bin Hallaj-The Man who dared to defy(by Dr.G.L.Kaw)
A revolutionary, a real religious researcher, a loin-hearted human being who in spite of being a faithful and practicing Muslim started asking awkward questions about human existence creation, creator, truth and God, and their relationship with each other. And this happened when Islam was only two and a half-century young only. This eternal revolutionary, the fearless votary of mysticism, fierce thinker and philosopher was one Hussein bin Mansoor famous as Halaaj. Halaaj was born around 858 A.D. in a Persian city named Bezaa (In Faras province of modern Iran) in an ordinary household. After his customary primary education only, the child Hussein started asking difficult and awkward questions. To satisfy his inner urges he came into contact with many of the high priests (clergy) of the time, but nothing could satisfy him. As a youth only he started travelling far and wide meeting the scholars and clerics discussing and debating difficult issues. Finally he reached Shouster (a small city in Khuzistan of modern Iran) where he studied under a very famous cleric called Sahal-bin Abdullah Shoustari for a long time. From here he came to Baghdad the capital of Islamic kingdom and seat of Khalifa (Religious head as well as king of the kingdom). At that time most of modern day Iran was a part of Baghdad Khilafat. From here he went to Basra as well as to Arabia, but returned to Baghdad soon. In Baghdad he continued his tirade of discussions and debates with highest clerics of the day. Soon he left for a long and fruitful sojourn eastwards. He traveled to most of the big cities of Persia including Khurasan (Easternmost province of Iran), meeting all the scholars and religious heads of the time. From here he entered Indian subcontinent and traveled many parts of northern India. Here also, he continued his unsatiable quest. He is supposed to have traveled to China and Far East also though we do not have any concrete evidence to support this view. Read complete article here http://greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=24_8_2007&ItemID=7&cat=12
Sunday, August 19, 2007
My friend Mehmood's answer to me in GK on Jashn-e-Azadi
http://greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=19_8_2007&ItemID=7&cat=12
What appeared in Greater Kashmir some days back under the title, 'celebrating too much of freedom', could easily have been ignored had it not appeared in this newspaper. The newspaper has been needlessly accommodative. Criticism, difference of opinion, interpretations and perceptions being at variance; all this is understandable. But vilifying an entire people in no less than an abusive language and casting slur on the film maker; all this is an indication of a sick mind.
This is how they reply......judge for yourself
What appeared in Greater Kashmir some days back under the title, 'celebrating too much of freedom', could easily have been ignored had it not appeared in this newspaper. The newspaper has been needlessly accommodative. Criticism, difference of opinion, interpretations and perceptions being at variance; all this is understandable. But vilifying an entire people in no less than an abusive language and casting slur on the film maker; all this is an indication of a sick mind.
This is how they reply......judge for yourself
Friday, August 17, 2007
Paradise Seed by Kathleen Raine
Where is the seed
Of the tree felled,
Of the forest burned,
Or living root
Under ash and cinders?
From woven bud
What last leaf strives
Into life, last Shrivelled flower?
Is fruit of our harvest,
Our long labourDust to the core?
To what far, fair land
Borne on the wind
What winged seed
Or spark of fire
From holocaust
To kindle a star?
Of the tree felled,
Of the forest burned,
Or living root
Under ash and cinders?
From woven bud
What last leaf strives
Into life, last Shrivelled flower?
Is fruit of our harvest,
Our long labourDust to the core?
To what far, fair land
Borne on the wind
What winged seed
Or spark of fire
From holocaust
To kindle a star?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A NATIONAL SHAME
PANDITS PROTESTING IN FRONT OF INDIA GATE ON 15TH AUG,07...17 YEARS IN EXILE...CRY MY BELOVED NATION..15th Aug,a date etched in our memory…the day we achieved what is everyone’s right-freedom.
Another landmark in our history of 5000 years…shouldn’t this day be a reason for celebration and joy. Ideally yes, but that’s if you are free. For a half a million souls in exile freedom means just another remembrance of the day when they were forcibly thrown out their homes. It also leaves them with a lingering feeling of deceit that the state has played against them.
It was this that moved hundred odd homeless and uprooted Pandits to tie their mouths with black clothes, a sign that they have lost voice, carrying Indian flags as if they carry the cross,a cross because of which they were forced out of their homes. As someone in the crowd said”We are paying a price for being Indians”.
We are Indians,is that too much of a sin…I wondered as I sat among the protestors. How could one reconcile to the truth that Pandits were suffering because they are not “CRY BABIES” like their Muslim brethren or the fact they are not politically significant because of their numbers.
Maybe Indian democracy has come of age.
Another landmark in our history of 5000 years…shouldn’t this day be a reason for celebration and joy. Ideally yes, but that’s if you are free. For a half a million souls in exile freedom means just another remembrance of the day when they were forcibly thrown out their homes. It also leaves them with a lingering feeling of deceit that the state has played against them.
It was this that moved hundred odd homeless and uprooted Pandits to tie their mouths with black clothes, a sign that they have lost voice, carrying Indian flags as if they carry the cross,a cross because of which they were forced out of their homes. As someone in the crowd said”We are paying a price for being Indians”.
We are Indians,is that too much of a sin…I wondered as I sat among the protestors. How could one reconcile to the truth that Pandits were suffering because they are not “CRY BABIES” like their Muslim brethren or the fact they are not politically significant because of their numbers.
Maybe Indian democracy has come of age.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Jashn-e-Azadi: Half-truths All the Way(in merinews.com)
Jashn-e-Azadi, the documentary made on the Kashmir issue, presents only half-truths about Kashmir; it disturbs many of the viewers, who know the ‘reality’. A good documentary does not take sides; it simply documents and presents facts as they are.
read complete article here
http://www.merinews.com/catFull.jsp;jsessionid=B594C8C74C7AD1C8C4B52702B9ABD511?articleID=125895
read complete article here
http://www.merinews.com/catFull.jsp;jsessionid=B594C8C74C7AD1C8C4B52702B9ABD511?articleID=125895
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Now Taslima......
Taslima Nasren roughed up by Islamic fundamentalists in Hyderabad....
Bangladeshi author Taslima Nasreen was today roughed up by MIM activists who stormed into a book release function here, injuring a Telugu writer and a press photographer.
Nasreen, here to release the Telugu translation of her latest book "Shodh", escaped unhurt as organisers and journalists shielded her and escorted her to safety.
A group of over 40 MIM workers, led by party MLAs Afsar Khan, Ahmed Pasha and Mouzam Khan, barged into the press club at Somajiguda when the function was about to end.
Hurling abuse and shouting slogans, the MIM workers surged menacingly towards the dais as a stunned Nasreen looked on.
They threw papers and books at Nasreen. In the melee, Telugu writer N Innaiah, the organiser of the function and president of the rationalist organisation Centre for Inquiry, was injured along with a press photographer.
Alert organisers and journalists covering the event threw a protective ring around Nasreen and took her to an adjoining room.
The MIM activists, who demanded that Nasreen should leave immediately, broke windows and damaged furniture at the venue.
Police then reached the spot and dispersed them.
The three MLAs from the city and their supporters were taken to Banjara Hills police station, Deputy Commissioner of Police M Madhusudhan Reddy said.
The manager of the Press Club filed a complaint with police against the attackers.
The MIM, which has considerable influence in the old city area, is represented in the Lok Sabha by Asaduddin Owaisi and has five members in the assembly.
(did someone call RIK activists hooligans)
Bangladeshi author Taslima Nasreen was today roughed up by MIM activists who stormed into a book release function here, injuring a Telugu writer and a press photographer.
Nasreen, here to release the Telugu translation of her latest book "Shodh", escaped unhurt as organisers and journalists shielded her and escorted her to safety.
A group of over 40 MIM workers, led by party MLAs Afsar Khan, Ahmed Pasha and Mouzam Khan, barged into the press club at Somajiguda when the function was about to end.
Hurling abuse and shouting slogans, the MIM workers surged menacingly towards the dais as a stunned Nasreen looked on.
They threw papers and books at Nasreen. In the melee, Telugu writer N Innaiah, the organiser of the function and president of the rationalist organisation Centre for Inquiry, was injured along with a press photographer.
Alert organisers and journalists covering the event threw a protective ring around Nasreen and took her to an adjoining room.
The MIM activists, who demanded that Nasreen should leave immediately, broke windows and damaged furniture at the venue.
Police then reached the spot and dispersed them.
The three MLAs from the city and their supporters were taken to Banjara Hills police station, Deputy Commissioner of Police M Madhusudhan Reddy said.
The manager of the Press Club filed a complaint with police against the attackers.
The MIM, which has considerable influence in the old city area, is represented in the Lok Sabha by Asaduddin Owaisi and has five members in the assembly.
(did someone call RIK activists hooligans)
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
My review of Jashn-e-Azadi-in Greater Kashmir
Even Greater Kashmir is more freedom loving than Sanjay Kak himself
The first images that flashed in front of my eyes when these numbers were shown on the screen were of Brijlal (my father’s best friend) and Choti. Brijlal (a driver in Dept. of Agriculture) and his wife Choti were tied to a jeep in their native village and then dragged till dead. When we received their bodies they were chopped into small pieces as if someone had just brought meat from a butcher. Blood still was fresh in some of their veins as it had reddened the body bag in which we received them. What a way to celebrate Azadi??? Kudos to the Robin Hoods who did this, kudos to the director for endorsing their way of celebration, sickness and creativity comes in such mental frames, I never knew. Beware… a lot of modern day Neros are around the corner. Read the full column here....
http://greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=8_8_2007&ItemID=7&cat=12
Some comments on the review on my Yahoo mail....
I feel we are on the same wave length on Sanjay Kak.Please accept my compliments for the brilliant reviewin GK. Keep it up.Orzu.Kamal
..........................................................
Yes -It is very well written!!!!
warm regards,
ashima
...........................................
Rashneek Ji ,
Hats off to you.
Regards
SW
.....................................................
Dear Rashneek...
The article was well written and you deserve all the kudos.
Pl. keep it up.
Regards,
Sunil Raina
....................................................................
--- "rajesh.pandit" wrote:">rajesh.pandit@tsoftindia.com>wrote:
Dear Rashneek Ji> > I had read this article on your blog previously, but> that could not stop me from reading it again (> twice) today. A wonderful piece of rebuttal to lies,> lies and more lies.> > > > Rgds > Rajesh Pandit
............................................................................
cashmeeri wrote:> > > > RASHNEEK - Gyaani bhi, Gunee bhi">cashmeeri@yahoo.com> wrote:> > > > RASHNEEK - Gyaani bhi, Gunee bhi
................................................................................
from someone who wanted to be anonymous..
Dear Rashneek ji,
We communicated earlier; and, I have a reason not to write to you; but after I read your review, I couldn't resist myself from writing; your words animated memories of my personal losses in Kashmir; I relived the horror of those months when members of our extended family were kidnapped, tortured and killed by terrorists;much less to talk of loss of other friends totheir bullets; as I write this, I've tears in my eyes; your words wrenched my heart, and left me speechless for a while; but, this response had to come; even if you chose not to reply to my mail on an earlier occasion (something you may not even remember now), I write; just to thank you for writing this so well.
...................................................................................................
YET SOMEHOW SANJAY KAK GOT GOOD REVIEWS FROM PANDITS.....
The first images that flashed in front of my eyes when these numbers were shown on the screen were of Brijlal (my father’s best friend) and Choti. Brijlal (a driver in Dept. of Agriculture) and his wife Choti were tied to a jeep in their native village and then dragged till dead. When we received their bodies they were chopped into small pieces as if someone had just brought meat from a butcher. Blood still was fresh in some of their veins as it had reddened the body bag in which we received them. What a way to celebrate Azadi??? Kudos to the Robin Hoods who did this, kudos to the director for endorsing their way of celebration, sickness and creativity comes in such mental frames, I never knew. Beware… a lot of modern day Neros are around the corner. Read the full column here....
http://greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=8_8_2007&ItemID=7&cat=12
Some comments on the review on my Yahoo mail....
I feel we are on the same wave length on Sanjay Kak.Please accept my compliments for the brilliant reviewin GK. Keep it up.Orzu.Kamal
..........................................................
Yes -It is very well written!!!!
warm regards,
ashima
...........................................
Rashneek Ji ,
Hats off to you.
Regards
SW
.....................................................
Dear Rashneek...
The article was well written and you deserve all the kudos.
Pl. keep it up.
Regards,
Sunil Raina
....................................................................
--- "rajesh.pandit" wrote:">rajesh.pandit@tsoftindia.com>wrote:
Dear Rashneek Ji> > I had read this article on your blog previously, but> that could not stop me from reading it again (> twice) today. A wonderful piece of rebuttal to lies,> lies and more lies.> > > > Rgds > Rajesh Pandit
............................................................................
cashmeeri wrote:> > > > RASHNEEK - Gyaani bhi, Gunee bhi">cashmeeri@yahoo.com> wrote:> > > > RASHNEEK - Gyaani bhi, Gunee bhi
................................................................................
from someone who wanted to be anonymous..
Dear Rashneek ji,
We communicated earlier; and, I have a reason not to write to you; but after I read your review, I couldn't resist myself from writing; your words animated memories of my personal losses in Kashmir; I relived the horror of those months when members of our extended family were kidnapped, tortured and killed by terrorists;much less to talk of loss of other friends totheir bullets; as I write this, I've tears in my eyes; your words wrenched my heart, and left me speechless for a while; but, this response had to come; even if you chose not to reply to my mail on an earlier occasion (something you may not even remember now), I write; just to thank you for writing this so well.
...................................................................................................
YET SOMEHOW SANJAY KAK GOT GOOD REVIEWS FROM PANDITS.....
Monday, August 6, 2007
Wonder which PANDITS Sanjay Kak spoke to....
Some responses to his hate-mail against RIK...
From Soul-in-Exile...
Since my comments/rebuttals to Sanjay Kak’s post about Jash-e-Azadi couldn’t pass the filters of moderation, I am posting my note/open letter and five questions to Sanjay Kak here. Hope Sanjay would oblige with some words of wisdom?
Read complete post here...http://soulinexile.blogspot.com/
From Vivek Raina
Aug 5th, 2007 at 7:49 pm
hi man……just went through ur blog… remember the Delhi screening… remember the first floor… and remember the guy standing there… the first voice that came… calling yasin a murderer… the guy in the blue shirt who started all ruckus… after which all those kashmiri pandit “I AM YOUR BIG BROTHERS” found their voice… and were a lil more vociferous… and a little more assertive… Well that was me…”was” is the key word…the group of people who you didnt mention is your blog is called RIK (Roots in Kashmir)… well i dont really know if they wanna gain mileage outta it like you said… and trust me i don’t care.HEY MAN “SORRY” TO HAVE SPOILED YOUR SHOWAbout the documentary… It was well made… which proves you are a director of caliber… congrats.also the content was well selected..and you had done your home work well… another congrats for that.A little about my anger ventilation… and a little about explaining why i did what i did that night that must have pissed you off… and so many people there
1. I dont care if you just showed the one side of the story… as a director thats your creative right. My problem with the movie is you in your movie tried to justify things that we all know are wrong. IF Indian army is killing kashmiri folks there. That is wrong… and if a people want to get freedom that is genuine… but you were justifying the gun culture in the movie. As a human being you know how much have the common kashmiris suffered because of this.
2. You got people in the screening… (Mr yasin malik) and quoted people… and interviewed people… who have advocated gun culture in the valley. That shouldn’t have been done. I mean cmon u r a good director.. And good director always judges the sensitivity of the issue. You know killing is wrong. U know two wrongs don’t make one right.Yasin malik knows hes killed people… so please .. i humbly bed thee… to enlighten me as to why did you have to do something like that.
3. What angered me more was that you are a kashmiri pandit. A kashmiri pandit would never ever… even if he was killed… ever take to violence… or justify violence… and some gentle man in in your movie said “META PHYSICAL WAR”… with what????/ with guns??????????
4.You didn’t address the basic problems of the valley… is it just that people want freedom and they are not getting it that they are pissed off…????? isnt it the economic disparity, the unemployment rate… the mass PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), the fear of gun, poor institutions, corruption… thats hurting the valley more… than the para military forces. WHY FREEDOM? who do people want to be free form a govt… because their needs (emotional, personal, psychological, economic, spiritual) are not somehow fulfilled under a given regime… u not even once mentioned that. It was a masala film under the pretext of a documentary.
5. where did you elucidate on the true nature of kashmiris… are kashmiris just about… freedom struggles… and wars… and getting killed… when u study a revolution… there has to be some reference to the mind set of the man thats running the revolution. that key elementary factor was missing.
LOOK DUDE I AM LIBERAL.. if Kashmir one day is a separate country… ill be happy to be there.. if with India ill still be happy… When that lady… again in the balcony asked you about the fate of kashmiri pandits u said.. u feel for them.. and u would like to treat the topic independently… because of its sensitivity…but dude… i think the topic u were dealing with in your movie was even more sensitive than kashmiri pandit topic… cuz those folks have been living there and facing hell… we just left… and started fresh…do u think i would ever want you to( seeing ur level of sensitivity) ever want to see ur movie on kashmiri pandits…theres a lot more to say… but a mail sounds so much like a soliloquy.. i prefer listening…I hope u wont mind chatting it over a cuppa coffee… after all the frenzy (all the screenings, and when u have time) settles down…VIVEK RAINA
P.S “ITS HARD TO KEEP YOUR SANITY WHEN THE WORLD IS LOSING IT, BUT IT AIN’T HARD”
from Nishant Dudha(not sure whether he will allow it on his blog...Sanjay Kak talks of freedom,yet his blog is moderated...irony....or joke)......
There was a mail invitation doing the rounds of the "E-mail Fwd Circuit", which spoke of a Documentary made by this young Indian filmmaker with many accolades and awards for his past portfolio of work in the "Festival Circuit".
Read full reply here...http://shala-thokyi-pyath-rikyin.blogspot.com/
from Aditya Raj Kaul...his blog alone has equal hits to your entire team's(Jashn-e-Azadi's)hits
Sanjay Kak obviously irritated because of the amount of criticism his masala movie is receiving and also lately the Police has also stopped his screenings and confiscated his DVD's in Mumbai. In mere frustration he blasted off writing an article targeting a young group of Kashmiri Pandits and some others for this mess up, not realising what he was bouncing his fingers on.Obviously, his masters wouldn't be so happy with him because of the negative success he is getting lately because of this youth group called ROOTS IN KASHMIR.
read full reply here http://kauladityaraj.blogspot.com/
So Sanjay Kak...we arent such a small bunch of hooligans,but a group of educated non-violent,people ..far different from how you would want people to believe.Of course we dont fit into the profile of your idols because we dont..KILL,RAPE,BURN HOUSES,TORCH TEMPLES,
Keep watching this space for more....
Rashneek
From Soul-in-Exile...
Since my comments/rebuttals to Sanjay Kak’s post about Jash-e-Azadi couldn’t pass the filters of moderation, I am posting my note/open letter and five questions to Sanjay Kak here. Hope Sanjay would oblige with some words of wisdom?
Read complete post here...http://soulinexile.blogspot.com/
From Vivek Raina
Aug 5th, 2007 at 7:49 pm
hi man……just went through ur blog… remember the Delhi screening… remember the first floor… and remember the guy standing there… the first voice that came… calling yasin a murderer… the guy in the blue shirt who started all ruckus… after which all those kashmiri pandit “I AM YOUR BIG BROTHERS” found their voice… and were a lil more vociferous… and a little more assertive… Well that was me…”was” is the key word…the group of people who you didnt mention is your blog is called RIK (Roots in Kashmir)… well i dont really know if they wanna gain mileage outta it like you said… and trust me i don’t care.HEY MAN “SORRY” TO HAVE SPOILED YOUR SHOWAbout the documentary… It was well made… which proves you are a director of caliber… congrats.also the content was well selected..and you had done your home work well… another congrats for that.A little about my anger ventilation… and a little about explaining why i did what i did that night that must have pissed you off… and so many people there
1. I dont care if you just showed the one side of the story… as a director thats your creative right. My problem with the movie is you in your movie tried to justify things that we all know are wrong. IF Indian army is killing kashmiri folks there. That is wrong… and if a people want to get freedom that is genuine… but you were justifying the gun culture in the movie. As a human being you know how much have the common kashmiris suffered because of this.
2. You got people in the screening… (Mr yasin malik) and quoted people… and interviewed people… who have advocated gun culture in the valley. That shouldn’t have been done. I mean cmon u r a good director.. And good director always judges the sensitivity of the issue. You know killing is wrong. U know two wrongs don’t make one right.Yasin malik knows hes killed people… so please .. i humbly bed thee… to enlighten me as to why did you have to do something like that.
3. What angered me more was that you are a kashmiri pandit. A kashmiri pandit would never ever… even if he was killed… ever take to violence… or justify violence… and some gentle man in in your movie said “META PHYSICAL WAR”… with what????/ with guns??????????
4.You didn’t address the basic problems of the valley… is it just that people want freedom and they are not getting it that they are pissed off…????? isnt it the economic disparity, the unemployment rate… the mass PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), the fear of gun, poor institutions, corruption… thats hurting the valley more… than the para military forces. WHY FREEDOM? who do people want to be free form a govt… because their needs (emotional, personal, psychological, economic, spiritual) are not somehow fulfilled under a given regime… u not even once mentioned that. It was a masala film under the pretext of a documentary.
5. where did you elucidate on the true nature of kashmiris… are kashmiris just about… freedom struggles… and wars… and getting killed… when u study a revolution… there has to be some reference to the mind set of the man thats running the revolution. that key elementary factor was missing.
LOOK DUDE I AM LIBERAL.. if Kashmir one day is a separate country… ill be happy to be there.. if with India ill still be happy… When that lady… again in the balcony asked you about the fate of kashmiri pandits u said.. u feel for them.. and u would like to treat the topic independently… because of its sensitivity…but dude… i think the topic u were dealing with in your movie was even more sensitive than kashmiri pandit topic… cuz those folks have been living there and facing hell… we just left… and started fresh…do u think i would ever want you to( seeing ur level of sensitivity) ever want to see ur movie on kashmiri pandits…theres a lot more to say… but a mail sounds so much like a soliloquy.. i prefer listening…I hope u wont mind chatting it over a cuppa coffee… after all the frenzy (all the screenings, and when u have time) settles down…VIVEK RAINA
P.S “ITS HARD TO KEEP YOUR SANITY WHEN THE WORLD IS LOSING IT, BUT IT AIN’T HARD”
from Nishant Dudha(not sure whether he will allow it on his blog...Sanjay Kak talks of freedom,yet his blog is moderated...irony....or joke)......
There was a mail invitation doing the rounds of the "E-mail Fwd Circuit", which spoke of a Documentary made by this young Indian filmmaker with many accolades and awards for his past portfolio of work in the "Festival Circuit".
Read full reply here...http://shala-thokyi-pyath-rikyin.blogspot.com/
from Aditya Raj Kaul...his blog alone has equal hits to your entire team's(Jashn-e-Azadi's)hits
Sanjay Kak obviously irritated because of the amount of criticism his masala movie is receiving and also lately the Police has also stopped his screenings and confiscated his DVD's in Mumbai. In mere frustration he blasted off writing an article targeting a young group of Kashmiri Pandits and some others for this mess up, not realising what he was bouncing his fingers on.Obviously, his masters wouldn't be so happy with him because of the negative success he is getting lately because of this youth group called ROOTS IN KASHMIR.
read full reply here http://kauladityaraj.blogspot.com/
So Sanjay Kak...we arent such a small bunch of hooligans,but a group of educated non-violent,people ..far different from how you would want people to believe.Of course we dont fit into the profile of your idols because we dont..KILL,RAPE,BURN HOUSES,TORCH TEMPLES,
Keep watching this space for more....
Rashneek
Sunday, August 5, 2007
But humko kahen Kaafir
I wasnt surprised and shocked to read what a film maker had to write on his blog about a "group of people"who have made it a mission to follow the film and stop it from circulating.What wishful thinking? Alas delusions of megalomania cant come in better ways than this.Dont we all know these wannabe Noam Chomskys are in constant fear of argument thats why they dont publish comments that arent really favourable to them in their blog.
Now,who is this small group of people and are they really following the movie as much as the film maker belives.The Film maker is only and I use the word only a FILM MAKER.Roots in Kashmir activists are not a small group,one...they are more than 700 young Kashmiri Pandits across the globe(where there Mujahideen tormentors threw them),two they are executives,teachers,art historians and of course students...who have much more to do to earn their livelihood than to simply follow this biased documentary.
Now the film maker belives we are net detectives,net bullies etc etc....is he so much in awe of us that he has even lost what is called the dignified way of argument.When I wrote a review on his movie recently,he had a volley of invectives in his mail written to me...Clearly a case where he is finding it hard to argue...
Now now,we are speading lies,because we are bringing to fore truths which the film maker obviously wants to hide...they make him uncomfortable.When we sometimes bring up the issue of Kashmiri Pandits killed,he belives we are keeping the pot boiling yet when he shows graveyards and asks an old man to find his son's grave,it is sacred..
I really wonder which Pandits has the movie maker spoken to...I know thousands and none but me he has spoken to...He must have spoken to his alter egos ..there are a couple like him...but someone says..One sparrow does not make a spring...he surely has met one of those sparrows.
At no point in time,did we try to stop the movie from circulating...we are not like those terrorists(whom he calls Saheb)who kill because someone doesnt fall in line with their way of thinking.He showed it in places like Pune and Nashik where there are sizeable Pandit populations,yet he went on showing his Band-Pather.
Whatever he shows in his magnum opus is his problem...we will continue to take him on...in non violent and peace loving ways...unlike his Sahebs...who can silence you with a bullet
Since he is so awe-struck he should be allowed to say anything,write anything....after all he is terrorised..isnt he....
All I can say is
Buth humko kahen kaafir
Allah ki marzi hai
Rashneek
Now,who is this small group of people and are they really following the movie as much as the film maker belives.The Film maker is only and I use the word only a FILM MAKER.Roots in Kashmir activists are not a small group,one...they are more than 700 young Kashmiri Pandits across the globe(where there Mujahideen tormentors threw them),two they are executives,teachers,art historians and of course students...who have much more to do to earn their livelihood than to simply follow this biased documentary.
Now the film maker belives we are net detectives,net bullies etc etc....is he so much in awe of us that he has even lost what is called the dignified way of argument.When I wrote a review on his movie recently,he had a volley of invectives in his mail written to me...Clearly a case where he is finding it hard to argue...
Now now,we are speading lies,because we are bringing to fore truths which the film maker obviously wants to hide...they make him uncomfortable.When we sometimes bring up the issue of Kashmiri Pandits killed,he belives we are keeping the pot boiling yet when he shows graveyards and asks an old man to find his son's grave,it is sacred..
I really wonder which Pandits has the movie maker spoken to...I know thousands and none but me he has spoken to...He must have spoken to his alter egos ..there are a couple like him...but someone says..One sparrow does not make a spring...he surely has met one of those sparrows.
At no point in time,did we try to stop the movie from circulating...we are not like those terrorists(whom he calls Saheb)who kill because someone doesnt fall in line with their way of thinking.He showed it in places like Pune and Nashik where there are sizeable Pandit populations,yet he went on showing his Band-Pather.
Whatever he shows in his magnum opus is his problem...we will continue to take him on...in non violent and peace loving ways...unlike his Sahebs...who can silence you with a bullet
Since he is so awe-struck he should be allowed to say anything,write anything....after all he is terrorised..isnt he....
All I can say is
Buth humko kahen kaafir
Allah ki marzi hai
Rashneek
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
What truly ails MSU,Baroda-New Arty Mullahs or Hindu Fanatics
I am amazed, sorry, perplexed at the way Parvez Kabir has described what can at best be described as a stand-off between a section of students of FFA (fighting for a genuine cause, now mired in political overtones, backed by whom, for what reasons, I guess known to all of us but the “naïve” and/or the infidel) and the University authorities (who are driven by whom, but “the naïve and the infidel”). Parvez’s description of this stand-off would have put to shame the historians (aha art historians too) who have described the great battles of past. Alas for they knew not the holy art of rhetoric as well, for there wasn’t an enlightened (sorry moderately enlightened) modern day Kabir amongst them.Yet one cannot dismiss the vital arguments that the learned columnist has raised (in his rather verbose and overtly passionate one sided version of the stand-off) but that it is a post modern battle, a guerilla warfare, a fight on streets just goes on to show that the writer has for the first time participated in protest of any kind whatsoever and he hasn’t heard of emergency either. Let us objectively and dis-passionately look at what this whole Baroda fiasco is all about in the context of Parvez Kabir’s description of the issue.I admire Parvez’s honesty in admitting that since he is a part of the protestors, he cannot present a balanced story. This to me would have been reason enough to let someone else who could have looked at this problem from a rational point of view, to present this story. Anyways it is the prerogative of the editor and so he has a right to do what he thinks is correct.
read full article here...http://artconcerns.com/html/readersPage.htm
read full article here...http://artconcerns.com/html/readersPage.htm
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Jashn-e-Azadi-Half truths and Mental Frames
Vivek has never been to Kashmir, he knows Kashmir as any other Indian would, through biased NDTV programs or through newspapers which don’t present the true picture either. Yet somehow what he asked me surprised me. At the end of the movie he inquired from me as to why the movie did not have even a byte from Mirwaiz(in Vivek’s opinion Mirwaiz is the tallest amongst Kashmiri separatists).I had taken Vivek with me because I thought he would relieve me of some boredom sitting through a rather long monologue cum endorsement session of two hours on Shahadat and Azadi.I half knew the answer for I was seeing it for the second time.The first time I had missed some initial 20 odd minutes because I wasn’t allowed into the auditorium for I might spoil the celebration of freedom(Jashn-e-Azadi).Wonder what censorship this was?I had to produce an e-mail invitation from the respected Director to get into the hall, for his authorities were strict on anyone who chose not to obey them. Anyways that’s past now but the spirit of celebration should continue….shouldn’t it…..
I left without answering Vivek.I was far too buried in thoughts of Jashn. I took the road back to my house, not my home dear, that’s already burnt, oh, way back in 1990, the Jashn of Azadi was being celebrated by torching my home in Bagat-i-Kanipora, in the night when we were all supposed to be celebrating Janam-Ashtami in the cool climes of our homes. The morning newspaper brought news of this celebration to the refugee camp which has been my existence since. I am sure a lot of people will say Jagmohan asked Pandits to leave, even for arguments sake taking that to be true, did it give a license to Sanjay Kak’s protagonists to burn my house and desecrate my religious places. I wondered, was that the way of celebrating freedom. Maybe the director believed it was. That’s why although he sat somber on the banks of Rembyaar in Shopian (while shooting for the movie), seeing the pathetic condition of a 5th Century shrine (of Kapalmochana which was now a broken Shivling, a desecrated spring and razed Dharamshalas) he did not deem it fit to be a part of the movie.
A woman whose goat was killed by the fire that engulfed her house and cowshed was shown grieving for her goat. I wondered what would have happened to Mather and Chander, my two cows, did the spirit of celebration (Jashn-e-Azadi) consume them too, wonder whether they were Hindu or Muslim, my father bought them from one Mohd Yusuf in my village.
My wandering thoughts much like the beard of my dear friend Masood often gives me sleepless nights in exile. This was destined to be one such night. I was instantaneously reminded of the curse of Lakshmi on us, Kashmiris
“Nilamata Purana 294-96. O lord, then angry Visoka cursed Kas'mira, "O wicked one, as I have been absorbed by you today by means of falsehood and you have informed Sati about my activities, so your people will be mostly liars, possessed of impurities, hired servants and dishonoured in the worlds.”
What else explains so many gaveyards when we could have a thousand flowers blooming on the same land, I thought. What else explains Kashmiris being slaves for last 800 years? Sanjay Kak does mention our slavery of 800 years in his movie , what he however chooses not to mention is, who were the masters? Who enslaved us..he wouldn’t say? Half truths as they say can be more dangerous than complete lies. Pyare Hatash’s verses have been shown in a manner where an ordinary non Kashmiri viewer is made to believe as if he is also a protagonist of the Azadi. The translation of the couplet from Rajatarangni was wrong and again misappropriated. Calling Kalhana the chronicler of Hindu Kings was a mischief played in a subtle manner Therein lies the game of the movie maker, his adeptness at appropriating the content.
The magnum opus (sorry for my description, but I am yet to see a longer documentary, probably verbosity is a virtue with Kak) has its own figures for dead and exiled. The movie says two hundred Kashmiri Pandits killed and one lakh sixty thousand exiled. The first images that flashed in front of my eyes when these numbers were shown on the screen were of Brijlal(my father’s best friend) and Choti. Brijlal (a driver in Dept. of Agriculture) and his wife Choti were tied to a jeep in their native village and then dragged till dead. When we received their bodies they were chopped into small pieces as if someone had just brought meat from a butcher. Blood still was fresh in some of their veins as it had reddened the body bag in which we received them. What way to celebrate Azadi??? Kudos to the Robin Hoods who did this, kudos to the director for endorsing their way of celebration, sickness and creativity comes in such mental frames, I never knew. Beware… a lot of modern day Neros are around the corner.
When I asked Sanjay Kak the source of these figures he said he had obtained these from some Joint Secretary in MHA, New Delhi. The movie director being a respected man, I had no doubts that he had got them from GoI. When I asked him what’s the source of his figures, one hundred thousand killed in Kashmir since 1990, he strangely had no GoI statistics to support his figures. Who believes GoI anyway? I have received a reply to an RTI saying only 16455 civilians have been killed in Kashmir since 1990.Now who would believe that. If GoI would have been sacred as Kak wants us to selectively believe, we wouldn’t have the movie in the first place.
We have Yasin Malik as a lead character in the movie, someone around whom the movie revolves,(a savior, a Gandhian ,an ex-terrorist in new attire all rolled into one),giving us sermons, telling us how he treads the path of non-violence. There are flashes of Azam Inquilabi and Syed Ali Shah Geelani (as patriarchs) but it conveniently skirts other separatist leaders, leading anyone to speculate whether the self styled Che Guvera’s of today (based in Delhi) are keen to project Yasin Malik alone as a leader of the masses or is there more to it. His presence at the first screening raised a lot of eye-brows and the discussions revolved more around Yasin Malik than the movie itself, with heckled audience putting him in a fix over his past but then as they say ” Every saint has a past, every thief a future”. The lead character says India wants to impose Brahmanical Imperialism in Kashmir. Does our lead character even know the meaning of the term ”Brahman” or was that a borrowed metaphor from Arundhati Roy, which he did not understand but knew how to use.
One of the flashes in the movie says ”Kashmir is the most militarized region in the valley” Maybe it is. I remember as a kid once we saw a Policeman in our village. We literally walked around him to see what he looks like. For all of us he was an alien who had somehow fallen off his spaceship and landed at our village. It was a quite a sight for all of us and some fun too. What then explains the presence of army and para-military forces in the same village when till 1989 it hadn’t even seen a proper policeman. The movie does not mention why the army had to be placed there after 1989.Isnt it imperative for a film maker to show a complete picture and not half truths.
While I was almost sobbing at the images of graveyards, I was reminded of Abdul Sattar Ranjoor who was not allowed to be buried in the village graveyard by Sanjay Kak’s Robin Hoods’. The movie once again fails to present a balanced point of view and seems more like a mouth piece or propaganda machinery at work. It simply fails to take into account any divergent view from the agenda that the director (or whoever influences him) had set to. How else does one explain that no other point of view is reflected in the movie. Who can argue against the fact that a large section of the masses want Aazadi but it would be equally foolish to believe that no other point of view exists. Again half truths come to fore with consummate ease.
This wasn’t a movie on Pandits that’s what Sanjay Kak wrote to me. We can understand that, knowing well what and whom it is about. Wouldn’t it have been better if Pandits were simply not mentioned in the movie than have a falsified and intentionally biased version of Pandits’ pain and sufferings through a minute and a half screen appearance of their abandoned houses.It seemed like intentionally rubbing salt to their wounds. What also comes to fore is the lack of knowledge about the issue on which he has made the movie. His self hatred is clearly visible in the movie, he believes that Pandits have been unfair to Muslims during the Dogra rule. Maybe it is not entirely incorrect, but when I confronted him on his knowledge of Medieval Kashmir (when Hindus were persecuted), the same was found wanting. I cannot imagine writing a column without delving deep into the subject, but then Sanjay Kak is a different person, he can make a movie on Kashmir without even reading basic texts. A good documentary does not take sides, it simply documents and presents facts as they are, the director is never seen to be either endorsing or negating what he shows. When Sanjay Kak explains the meaning and essence of the term Shahadat, the swell of adrenalin is clearly audible in his voice, that’s when he moves from being a film director to an invisible but strong spokesperson of his concept of what constitutes the celebration of Azadi. To prove his point of view he has even borrowed footages which make it look exactly like the sexed up Power Point presentation that USA made to UN as their premise for attacking Iraq.
History is replete with neo converts going that extra mile to prove which side of their bread is buttered but I believe the Director wants to walk all through the Safar-e-Azadi(similar sounding names….wonder who directs whom)to prove his loyalty to the only leader of Kashmir, Yasin Malik.
I left without answering Vivek.I was far too buried in thoughts of Jashn. I took the road back to my house, not my home dear, that’s already burnt, oh, way back in 1990, the Jashn of Azadi was being celebrated by torching my home in Bagat-i-Kanipora, in the night when we were all supposed to be celebrating Janam-Ashtami in the cool climes of our homes. The morning newspaper brought news of this celebration to the refugee camp which has been my existence since. I am sure a lot of people will say Jagmohan asked Pandits to leave, even for arguments sake taking that to be true, did it give a license to Sanjay Kak’s protagonists to burn my house and desecrate my religious places. I wondered, was that the way of celebrating freedom. Maybe the director believed it was. That’s why although he sat somber on the banks of Rembyaar in Shopian (while shooting for the movie), seeing the pathetic condition of a 5th Century shrine (of Kapalmochana which was now a broken Shivling, a desecrated spring and razed Dharamshalas) he did not deem it fit to be a part of the movie.
A woman whose goat was killed by the fire that engulfed her house and cowshed was shown grieving for her goat. I wondered what would have happened to Mather and Chander, my two cows, did the spirit of celebration (Jashn-e-Azadi) consume them too, wonder whether they were Hindu or Muslim, my father bought them from one Mohd Yusuf in my village.
My wandering thoughts much like the beard of my dear friend Masood often gives me sleepless nights in exile. This was destined to be one such night. I was instantaneously reminded of the curse of Lakshmi on us, Kashmiris
“Nilamata Purana 294-96. O lord, then angry Visoka cursed Kas'mira, "O wicked one, as I have been absorbed by you today by means of falsehood and you have informed Sati about my activities, so your people will be mostly liars, possessed of impurities, hired servants and dishonoured in the worlds.”
What else explains so many gaveyards when we could have a thousand flowers blooming on the same land, I thought. What else explains Kashmiris being slaves for last 800 years? Sanjay Kak does mention our slavery of 800 years in his movie , what he however chooses not to mention is, who were the masters? Who enslaved us..he wouldn’t say? Half truths as they say can be more dangerous than complete lies. Pyare Hatash’s verses have been shown in a manner where an ordinary non Kashmiri viewer is made to believe as if he is also a protagonist of the Azadi. The translation of the couplet from Rajatarangni was wrong and again misappropriated. Calling Kalhana the chronicler of Hindu Kings was a mischief played in a subtle manner Therein lies the game of the movie maker, his adeptness at appropriating the content.
The magnum opus (sorry for my description, but I am yet to see a longer documentary, probably verbosity is a virtue with Kak) has its own figures for dead and exiled. The movie says two hundred Kashmiri Pandits killed and one lakh sixty thousand exiled. The first images that flashed in front of my eyes when these numbers were shown on the screen were of Brijlal(my father’s best friend) and Choti. Brijlal (a driver in Dept. of Agriculture) and his wife Choti were tied to a jeep in their native village and then dragged till dead. When we received their bodies they were chopped into small pieces as if someone had just brought meat from a butcher. Blood still was fresh in some of their veins as it had reddened the body bag in which we received them. What way to celebrate Azadi??? Kudos to the Robin Hoods who did this, kudos to the director for endorsing their way of celebration, sickness and creativity comes in such mental frames, I never knew. Beware… a lot of modern day Neros are around the corner.
When I asked Sanjay Kak the source of these figures he said he had obtained these from some Joint Secretary in MHA, New Delhi. The movie director being a respected man, I had no doubts that he had got them from GoI. When I asked him what’s the source of his figures, one hundred thousand killed in Kashmir since 1990, he strangely had no GoI statistics to support his figures. Who believes GoI anyway? I have received a reply to an RTI saying only 16455 civilians have been killed in Kashmir since 1990.Now who would believe that. If GoI would have been sacred as Kak wants us to selectively believe, we wouldn’t have the movie in the first place.
We have Yasin Malik as a lead character in the movie, someone around whom the movie revolves,(a savior, a Gandhian ,an ex-terrorist in new attire all rolled into one),giving us sermons, telling us how he treads the path of non-violence. There are flashes of Azam Inquilabi and Syed Ali Shah Geelani (as patriarchs) but it conveniently skirts other separatist leaders, leading anyone to speculate whether the self styled Che Guvera’s of today (based in Delhi) are keen to project Yasin Malik alone as a leader of the masses or is there more to it. His presence at the first screening raised a lot of eye-brows and the discussions revolved more around Yasin Malik than the movie itself, with heckled audience putting him in a fix over his past but then as they say ” Every saint has a past, every thief a future”. The lead character says India wants to impose Brahmanical Imperialism in Kashmir. Does our lead character even know the meaning of the term ”Brahman” or was that a borrowed metaphor from Arundhati Roy, which he did not understand but knew how to use.
One of the flashes in the movie says ”Kashmir is the most militarized region in the valley” Maybe it is. I remember as a kid once we saw a Policeman in our village. We literally walked around him to see what he looks like. For all of us he was an alien who had somehow fallen off his spaceship and landed at our village. It was a quite a sight for all of us and some fun too. What then explains the presence of army and para-military forces in the same village when till 1989 it hadn’t even seen a proper policeman. The movie does not mention why the army had to be placed there after 1989.Isnt it imperative for a film maker to show a complete picture and not half truths.
While I was almost sobbing at the images of graveyards, I was reminded of Abdul Sattar Ranjoor who was not allowed to be buried in the village graveyard by Sanjay Kak’s Robin Hoods’. The movie once again fails to present a balanced point of view and seems more like a mouth piece or propaganda machinery at work. It simply fails to take into account any divergent view from the agenda that the director (or whoever influences him) had set to. How else does one explain that no other point of view is reflected in the movie. Who can argue against the fact that a large section of the masses want Aazadi but it would be equally foolish to believe that no other point of view exists. Again half truths come to fore with consummate ease.
This wasn’t a movie on Pandits that’s what Sanjay Kak wrote to me. We can understand that, knowing well what and whom it is about. Wouldn’t it have been better if Pandits were simply not mentioned in the movie than have a falsified and intentionally biased version of Pandits’ pain and sufferings through a minute and a half screen appearance of their abandoned houses.It seemed like intentionally rubbing salt to their wounds. What also comes to fore is the lack of knowledge about the issue on which he has made the movie. His self hatred is clearly visible in the movie, he believes that Pandits have been unfair to Muslims during the Dogra rule. Maybe it is not entirely incorrect, but when I confronted him on his knowledge of Medieval Kashmir (when Hindus were persecuted), the same was found wanting. I cannot imagine writing a column without delving deep into the subject, but then Sanjay Kak is a different person, he can make a movie on Kashmir without even reading basic texts. A good documentary does not take sides, it simply documents and presents facts as they are, the director is never seen to be either endorsing or negating what he shows. When Sanjay Kak explains the meaning and essence of the term Shahadat, the swell of adrenalin is clearly audible in his voice, that’s when he moves from being a film director to an invisible but strong spokesperson of his concept of what constitutes the celebration of Azadi. To prove his point of view he has even borrowed footages which make it look exactly like the sexed up Power Point presentation that USA made to UN as their premise for attacking Iraq.
History is replete with neo converts going that extra mile to prove which side of their bread is buttered but I believe the Director wants to walk all through the Safar-e-Azadi(similar sounding names….wonder who directs whom)to prove his loyalty to the only leader of Kashmir, Yasin Malik.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
"A Kafir"
I always wrote the best verse
The teacher would often say
This pandit boy will be a poet one day
My pen drew images
Of Kashmir,
Meadows and pines
Springs and brooks
Snow and shine
Alas, I forgot….I was a Pandit too,
Soon they will come
To take me away
To the cold street
And shoot me down
My blood will freeze
Before it oozes
My verse go numb
My voice, dumb
The azan would rise
And the warriors of God
Will soon find another
Voice to quell
Another pandit to kill
The morning news would read
A KAFIR dead on a cold street
The poem was originally posted here
http://www.ryze.com/posttopic.php?topicid=867284&confid=1199#2674620
The teacher would often say
This pandit boy will be a poet one day
My pen drew images
Of Kashmir,
Meadows and pines
Springs and brooks
Snow and shine
Alas, I forgot….I was a Pandit too,
Soon they will come
To take me away
To the cold street
And shoot me down
My blood will freeze
Before it oozes
My verse go numb
My voice, dumb
The azan would rise
And the warriors of God
Will soon find another
Voice to quell
Another pandit to kill
The morning news would read
A KAFIR dead on a cold street
The poem was originally posted here
http://www.ryze.com/posttopic.php?topicid=867284&confid=1199#2674620
Thursday, July 12, 2007
A voice called Majboor
http://greaterkashmir.com/full_story.asp?Date=12_7_2007&ItemID=6&cat=12
THE TRULY GREAT DO NOT SING PAEANS TO THE ESTABLISHMENT. RASHNEEK KHER PROFILES ARJUN DEV MAJBOOR
Yeh Majboor kya naam hai? was almost a curt remark from my would be wife when her father showed her an article titled ‘The Forgotten Tirtha of Bheda Devi’ by Arjun Dev Majboor. Years rolled by, after her inquiry on Arjun Dev’s pen name, there was little that we heard of Majboor but his verses in Koshur Samachar. His verses reflected sorrow, anguish and uncertainty, but unlike many other poems in the kashmiri section, there was a fragrance of an unlikely dream and effervescence of an unlikely trait that one would call hope. We read more about him and his works, whilst we were in Ahmedabad. One day as I was sifting through the Internet Edition of Greater Kashmir(an English daily published from Kashmir)I came to know about a book written on Arinmal by Majboor. The newspaper carried a story on his remarkable zest (despite his ill health )for unmasking the cloud of doubt that Arinmal (a seventeenth century Kashmiri poet) had intentionally been clothed with by some scholars based in Kashmir. After almost two years of this newspaper report we got a chance to go to Jammu to attend a marriage, what else! The search for Arinmal took us (me and my wife) to various places some boring and some not so boring. Eventually somebody told us to get in touch with one Mr.Sagar who might have a copy of the book. I called Mr.Sagar and asked him if he had a copy of the book, which thankfully he did not have but he had something I would thank him ever after for. To my amazement he had Majboor’s phone number and he told me Majboor had shifted to Jammu from Udhampur. It took me some persuasion from my own soul to conceal my joy of finally getting the book, but destiny had more in store for me than just that. I called the number that Mr.Sagar had given me. Soon I was talking to someone I had known through his poems. After exchanging pleasantries I requested Majboor for a copy of the book. I was pleasantly surprised when he invited us (me and my wife) over for lunch and to get a copy of the book. I instantaneously accepted the invitation, actually jumped for it. The prospect of meeting him set butterflies in my stomach. It was a pleasant winter afternoon when we reached Majboor’s non-descript house in Bohri.We were led into the inner room of the house where we first saw Majboor in person. He looked very much like the picture I had seen of him in Koshur Samachar, except for the pale face and frail physique. Probably all had not been well with his health. He was glad to see us and it showed on his face, but to say the same for us would be an understatement. We were extremely excited. Soon we got talking over hot cups of kehwa. We traveled back in time to see a young boy and his quest for knowledge taking him to the most unlikely places where our mundane lives seldom take us to.He got nostalgic about his childhood and his years of adolsence.His art of story telling transported us to the springs of Zainapora where Majboor spent his childhood and the aura which bore its first imprints on his nubile mind. My wife wanted to know about his book on Lala Lachman (a 19th century bard and poet). She was particularly interested in knowing about “Gade Dhogul” one of the relatively unknown poet’s reflections on the society of the day he lived in. Majboor’s humility was at its full display when he took time and pains to narrate to us the story and the pun involved in it. We moved on to his interactions with Rahul Sankrityan (one of the greatest scholars of the last century)and thus came to fore, what really had transformed Majboor from a simple village boy with a quest, to a man who had come of age. Majboor told us about the time he spent with Rahul Sankrityan at Lahore and how he started to look at things differently and how his interactions with Sankritian evolved him. After meeting Rahul Sankrityan, Majboor was a different man. He was someone who had the legacy of Kashmiri scholarship and tutelage under one of the most balanced icons of communist philosophy. Soon we had lunch in his room which was served on wooden chowki(the low kashmiri table,where one can sit on the floor and have food on).There was a story to them also. These chowkis were one of the very few things that Majboor had managed to carry with him, when he had to leave his motherland, his Zainapora (his land of thousand imaginations).We were equally impressed by his desire to unravel the glorious past of Kashmir.I had read an article by Majboor in Vistasta(an annual magazine published by Kashmiri Pandit Sabha, Kolkatta)about his visits to Kapteshwara, Ganghobeda and Narastan. Painful as it is to know about the places of pilgrimage that people of our generation might never get to see, the vicarious pleasure of someone having seen them is the only refugee for souls like us. Majboor went into great details to tell us about his experience on visting these ancient temples and pilgrimage sites. Bewildered, I thought Maslow should have visited India before revealing his pyramid of needs to the students of psychology. How despite his limited means of income Majboor listened to his heart and traveled on the path which many would not dare to venture on. In the course of our discussions with Majboor we discovered he was an agnostic, a trait not uncommon to the emancipated. The sun was setting on the parapet of Majboor’s rented accommodation probably indicating the ephemeral nature of the houses that we live in and also the metaphysical sense of how time was about to end on the once great Kashmiri scholarship. Or maybe it was time for poetry. Majboor recited to us one of best pieces of work –Raaz Hamsas Kun. It was his longing for his motherland on the wings of wax, probably a flight of fancy which was not to happen but in the realm of imagination. The recitation was immaculate and poetry profound and haunting. By the time he finished reciting the sun had set and the firmament bore the look of a day that passed by both literally as well as metaphorically. Our eyes were moist and taste of the poem lingered in our subconscious for months. With heavy hearts we sought his permission to leave though our feet would not follow our heads. Majboor wanted us to stay over so did we, but we mere mortals had some mundane duties to attend to and bread to earn for our bodies, surely our souls had their meal. On the flight back to Delhi, me and my wife wondered how many youngsters know about Majboor. It was a moment of contemplation that we soon forgot when we got entangled in the web of our lives. We remained in touch with Majboor over phone and soon he expressed a desire to have some of his poems put to music. It was indeed a great thought to take his poems to the masses. The choice of the composer was unanimous, who else but the great maestro himself. Pandit Bhajan Sopori was really forthcoming and helpful in this endeavour. Shamima Azad and Abdul Rashid Farash lent their voices to the poems. The album called Alaav has already hit music stores across the nation. There is very little for me comment on the lyrical content and musical excellence of the album. My favourite however remains “Gayam Vaensa Vanan yath dastanas,dazeth khoth varake varkay aasmanas”. The poem is based on the legendary Gunadi, the author of Brihstkatha.When he recited his verses to the king, the king because of his ignorance ,simply dismissed the verses as ordinary. Gunadi enraged by the kings behaviour went to a jungle and recited his poems. All the birds and animals of the jungle came to listen to him. Even trees bowed their branches to listen to the beautiful verses which the king dismissed as ordinary. Then Gunadi burnt all his verses and the pages went up in the air. Majboor’s despondency is reflected in the verses as is Gunadi’s while burning his verses. The truly great do not sing paeans to the establishment. This was as true of Gunadi or Mirza Ghalib as is of Majboor.
THE TRULY GREAT DO NOT SING PAEANS TO THE ESTABLISHMENT. RASHNEEK KHER PROFILES ARJUN DEV MAJBOOR
Yeh Majboor kya naam hai? was almost a curt remark from my would be wife when her father showed her an article titled ‘The Forgotten Tirtha of Bheda Devi’ by Arjun Dev Majboor. Years rolled by, after her inquiry on Arjun Dev’s pen name, there was little that we heard of Majboor but his verses in Koshur Samachar. His verses reflected sorrow, anguish and uncertainty, but unlike many other poems in the kashmiri section, there was a fragrance of an unlikely dream and effervescence of an unlikely trait that one would call hope. We read more about him and his works, whilst we were in Ahmedabad. One day as I was sifting through the Internet Edition of Greater Kashmir(an English daily published from Kashmir)I came to know about a book written on Arinmal by Majboor. The newspaper carried a story on his remarkable zest (despite his ill health )for unmasking the cloud of doubt that Arinmal (a seventeenth century Kashmiri poet) had intentionally been clothed with by some scholars based in Kashmir. After almost two years of this newspaper report we got a chance to go to Jammu to attend a marriage, what else! The search for Arinmal took us (me and my wife) to various places some boring and some not so boring. Eventually somebody told us to get in touch with one Mr.Sagar who might have a copy of the book. I called Mr.Sagar and asked him if he had a copy of the book, which thankfully he did not have but he had something I would thank him ever after for. To my amazement he had Majboor’s phone number and he told me Majboor had shifted to Jammu from Udhampur. It took me some persuasion from my own soul to conceal my joy of finally getting the book, but destiny had more in store for me than just that. I called the number that Mr.Sagar had given me. Soon I was talking to someone I had known through his poems. After exchanging pleasantries I requested Majboor for a copy of the book. I was pleasantly surprised when he invited us (me and my wife) over for lunch and to get a copy of the book. I instantaneously accepted the invitation, actually jumped for it. The prospect of meeting him set butterflies in my stomach. It was a pleasant winter afternoon when we reached Majboor’s non-descript house in Bohri.We were led into the inner room of the house where we first saw Majboor in person. He looked very much like the picture I had seen of him in Koshur Samachar, except for the pale face and frail physique. Probably all had not been well with his health. He was glad to see us and it showed on his face, but to say the same for us would be an understatement. We were extremely excited. Soon we got talking over hot cups of kehwa. We traveled back in time to see a young boy and his quest for knowledge taking him to the most unlikely places where our mundane lives seldom take us to.He got nostalgic about his childhood and his years of adolsence.His art of story telling transported us to the springs of Zainapora where Majboor spent his childhood and the aura which bore its first imprints on his nubile mind. My wife wanted to know about his book on Lala Lachman (a 19th century bard and poet). She was particularly interested in knowing about “Gade Dhogul” one of the relatively unknown poet’s reflections on the society of the day he lived in. Majboor’s humility was at its full display when he took time and pains to narrate to us the story and the pun involved in it. We moved on to his interactions with Rahul Sankrityan (one of the greatest scholars of the last century)and thus came to fore, what really had transformed Majboor from a simple village boy with a quest, to a man who had come of age. Majboor told us about the time he spent with Rahul Sankrityan at Lahore and how he started to look at things differently and how his interactions with Sankritian evolved him. After meeting Rahul Sankrityan, Majboor was a different man. He was someone who had the legacy of Kashmiri scholarship and tutelage under one of the most balanced icons of communist philosophy. Soon we had lunch in his room which was served on wooden chowki(the low kashmiri table,where one can sit on the floor and have food on).There was a story to them also. These chowkis were one of the very few things that Majboor had managed to carry with him, when he had to leave his motherland, his Zainapora (his land of thousand imaginations).We were equally impressed by his desire to unravel the glorious past of Kashmir.I had read an article by Majboor in Vistasta(an annual magazine published by Kashmiri Pandit Sabha, Kolkatta)about his visits to Kapteshwara, Ganghobeda and Narastan. Painful as it is to know about the places of pilgrimage that people of our generation might never get to see, the vicarious pleasure of someone having seen them is the only refugee for souls like us. Majboor went into great details to tell us about his experience on visting these ancient temples and pilgrimage sites. Bewildered, I thought Maslow should have visited India before revealing his pyramid of needs to the students of psychology. How despite his limited means of income Majboor listened to his heart and traveled on the path which many would not dare to venture on. In the course of our discussions with Majboor we discovered he was an agnostic, a trait not uncommon to the emancipated. The sun was setting on the parapet of Majboor’s rented accommodation probably indicating the ephemeral nature of the houses that we live in and also the metaphysical sense of how time was about to end on the once great Kashmiri scholarship. Or maybe it was time for poetry. Majboor recited to us one of best pieces of work –Raaz Hamsas Kun. It was his longing for his motherland on the wings of wax, probably a flight of fancy which was not to happen but in the realm of imagination. The recitation was immaculate and poetry profound and haunting. By the time he finished reciting the sun had set and the firmament bore the look of a day that passed by both literally as well as metaphorically. Our eyes were moist and taste of the poem lingered in our subconscious for months. With heavy hearts we sought his permission to leave though our feet would not follow our heads. Majboor wanted us to stay over so did we, but we mere mortals had some mundane duties to attend to and bread to earn for our bodies, surely our souls had their meal. On the flight back to Delhi, me and my wife wondered how many youngsters know about Majboor. It was a moment of contemplation that we soon forgot when we got entangled in the web of our lives. We remained in touch with Majboor over phone and soon he expressed a desire to have some of his poems put to music. It was indeed a great thought to take his poems to the masses. The choice of the composer was unanimous, who else but the great maestro himself. Pandit Bhajan Sopori was really forthcoming and helpful in this endeavour. Shamima Azad and Abdul Rashid Farash lent their voices to the poems. The album called Alaav has already hit music stores across the nation. There is very little for me comment on the lyrical content and musical excellence of the album. My favourite however remains “Gayam Vaensa Vanan yath dastanas,dazeth khoth varake varkay aasmanas”. The poem is based on the legendary Gunadi, the author of Brihstkatha.When he recited his verses to the king, the king because of his ignorance ,simply dismissed the verses as ordinary. Gunadi enraged by the kings behaviour went to a jungle and recited his poems. All the birds and animals of the jungle came to listen to him. Even trees bowed their branches to listen to the beautiful verses which the king dismissed as ordinary. Then Gunadi burnt all his verses and the pages went up in the air. Majboor’s despondency is reflected in the verses as is Gunadi’s while burning his verses. The truly great do not sing paeans to the establishment. This was as true of Gunadi or Mirza Ghalib as is of Majboor.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
THE PAST
(Albanian poem of exile written by Blerim Kasneci and translated by Zana Banci and Anthony Weir)
I am old sorrow and past predicament.
Now, without identity in a streetnameless to me,
I am a stranger:
I am longings, I am fears.
The past is years dissolving into memory.
The past is emigration, flight;
the present: yearning and homesickness
dissolving into years.
I am the wandering childlonging to belong
to his lostchildhood
and not be outside the present,
always withdrawn, apart.
I am the homeless child
who grew up in displacement
living in homesickness
and sickness of the heart.
I am old sorrow and past predicament.
Now, without identity in a streetnameless to me,
I am a stranger:
I am longings, I am fears.
The past is years dissolving into memory.
The past is emigration, flight;
the present: yearning and homesickness
dissolving into years.
I am the wandering childlonging to belong
to his lostchildhood
and not be outside the present,
always withdrawn, apart.
I am the homeless child
who grew up in displacement
living in homesickness
and sickness of the heart.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
I Killed the Brahman
The river of innocence was drowned
I grew up early
Barely six, I lit his pyre..
A hole where his vermillion was..
Wouldn’t burn…
The hole of my being…a Brahman
A hated soul…a hated existence
Had Sharda changed sides..
She stood mute..i wouldn’t know
Mute stood everyone else…
A deafening silence…
Was the answer to everything I asked
I searched for my answers
And I grew
Diffident ,dalit….and a brahman
Everyone loved hating me..
I loved it too…
Hate-my subsistence
My food for thought
My existence in exile…..
I grew up early
And I drowned the pyre and the river
And the tears…
I cut the thread
And the tuft….
I wailed and rejoiced….
Sang and cried…
I wallowed in the sand…
Abused Nadim ..his Kashmir
I hated my self
I cooked it on the wet pyre
Ate it up..
Slept
And woke up
No more a brahman…
I grew up early
Barely six, I lit his pyre..
A hole where his vermillion was..
Wouldn’t burn…
The hole of my being…a Brahman
A hated soul…a hated existence
Had Sharda changed sides..
She stood mute..i wouldn’t know
Mute stood everyone else…
A deafening silence…
Was the answer to everything I asked
I searched for my answers
And I grew
Diffident ,dalit….and a brahman
Everyone loved hating me..
I loved it too…
Hate-my subsistence
My food for thought
My existence in exile…..
I grew up early
And I drowned the pyre and the river
And the tears…
I cut the thread
And the tuft….
I wailed and rejoiced….
Sang and cried…
I wallowed in the sand…
Abused Nadim ..his Kashmir
I hated my self
I cooked it on the wet pyre
Ate it up..
Slept
And woke up
No more a brahman…
The poem first appeared here..http://www.ryze.com/posttopic.php?topicid=857942&confid=1199
Monday, June 4, 2007
And the World Remained Silent
The sweeper came to clean the road
In the sweepings among other things
was the pony tail of a young child
who was last playing in her mother's lap
The boatman was happy
he netted a big fish
a fish with human shape
with a sacred thread around it
The lonely priest walked into the temple
with a tumbler full of pious water and flowers
to wash Shiva...
all he had to wash was human excreta.
the twice born was dead
for ever
cleansed....cut...dried..
and pasted on the books of history
and the world remained silent
The poem with its comments is here
http://www.ryze.com/posttopic.php?topicid=856348&confid=1199
In the sweepings among other things
was the pony tail of a young child
who was last playing in her mother's lap
The boatman was happy
he netted a big fish
a fish with human shape
with a sacred thread around it
The lonely priest walked into the temple
with a tumbler full of pious water and flowers
to wash Shiva...
all he had to wash was human excreta.
the twice born was dead
for ever
cleansed....cut...dried..
and pasted on the books of history
and the world remained silent
The poem with its comments is here
http://www.ryze.com/posttopic.php?topicid=856348&confid=1199
Monday, May 28, 2007
Transliteration of BN Betab's peom titled "Maet Aab" by the poet himself
Brijnath Betab's poem titled Maet-aab. A sombre but forceful description of the fateful night when loudspeakers from all mosques and city centers were pronoucing "death to infidels" and "defiling of their women"....A poet in despair,fear,agony,disbelief......murmurs the night as the morning refuses to come by..... full text of the poem on
http://kashmiris-in-exile.blogspot.com
This night death looms large on every road
Laying a siege for someone in his room
Putting a trap for someone at his abode
This night has broken all my fallacies
This night darkness has dawned over light
I hold in support my blood soaked Phiran
As the night shall move again
To some safe heaven,Crying in pain.
Bandaging the blood oozing wounds
This night shall now flee away,
Far away, far far away and far away,
Tomorrow of course when the morning breeze
Shall come to enquire about us
Scattered we shall be
Representing a chopped off body.
In the deserts
Devastated as we shall be
Holding our back
To the support of huge stones
Under the blistering heat in the open,
This city of our ancestors
Shall look like a town of ghosts.
http://kashmiris-in-exile.blogspot.com
This night death looms large on every road
Laying a siege for someone in his room
Putting a trap for someone at his abode
This night has broken all my fallacies
This night darkness has dawned over light
I hold in support my blood soaked Phiran
As the night shall move again
To some safe heaven,Crying in pain.
Bandaging the blood oozing wounds
This night shall now flee away,
Far away, far far away and far away,
Tomorrow of course when the morning breeze
Shall come to enquire about us
Scattered we shall be
Representing a chopped off body.
In the deserts
Devastated as we shall be
Holding our back
To the support of huge stones
Under the blistering heat in the open,
This city of our ancestors
Shall look like a town of ghosts.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Maze
The maze of people walked through me
I lay there, unmoved
Ugly urchins and prostitutes…
shared honours with city directors
Stained souls and clean faces
made see saw of a maze
Where distortion played
hide and seek
I lay there, unmoved
Ugly urchins and prostitutes…
shared honours with city directors
Stained souls and clean faces
made see saw of a maze
Where distortion played
hide and seek
Monday, April 16, 2007
Subjugation
The charmer is at it again
he beckons me….and I flee
Strange are his ways…
of remembrance and parting
He fills in the noise
and paranoia
I stare… gaze…
at the flame of his unbecoming love
He is wide awake
when the day sleeps…
In the mystic trance
of my subjugation to him
He is but he…
craving in desire
For me to burn
to eulogize his becoming
Isn’t the time
Of going back in womb
with disconnected umblicals
I fear… the desire..in him
And my desire …
to annihilate myself
The flame of love burns
surreptiously…
Sacred as it maybe
love…yearns
the flame craves
The charmer in mystic tunes
drives me away…
into oblivion of being
And the shame of nothingness…derides my existence
he beckons me….and I flee
Strange are his ways…
of remembrance and parting
He fills in the noise
and paranoia
I stare… gaze…
at the flame of his unbecoming love
He is wide awake
when the day sleeps…
In the mystic trance
of my subjugation to him
He is but he…
craving in desire
For me to burn
to eulogize his becoming
Isn’t the time
Of going back in womb
with disconnected umblicals
I fear… the desire..in him
And my desire …
to annihilate myself
The flame of love burns
surreptiously…
Sacred as it maybe
love…yearns
the flame craves
The charmer in mystic tunes
drives me away…
into oblivion of being
And the shame of nothingness…derides my existence
Friday, March 23, 2007
Void
My anatomy revealed a hole
A void that my death left
She was alone…
It was a forlorn path
From one exile to another
Void as is …but a void
Fill it ….my land
With the cherries of spring
And almond flowers
A folklore …from past
To carry me through
The forlorn path
Yasins mother
And maybe Rasul Daar
Know stories of past
Whilst the hole was
Still my youth
The youth I lost
In sands of time
And the hole
My friend remained on…
In me
till
death did us apart….
A void that my death left
She was alone…
It was a forlorn path
From one exile to another
Void as is …but a void
Fill it ….my land
With the cherries of spring
And almond flowers
A folklore …from past
To carry me through
The forlorn path
Yasins mother
And maybe Rasul Daar
Know stories of past
Whilst the hole was
Still my youth
The youth I lost
In sands of time
And the hole
My friend remained on…
In me
till
death did us apart….
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Roots in Abeyance
The movement grows moss around me.
Stuck as I am to roots ,I haven’t grown beyond them
Mohammed lies waste as does Nietzsche
Papers are spotless
or they carry the yellow imprints of my daughters freeness from constipation
the exact carefulness of the arranged books..signals my death
for the movement of my roots ..has stuck me in them…
Alas!my self pity…
Will I ever grow beyond thee..
Stuck as I am to roots ,I haven’t grown beyond them
Mohammed lies waste as does Nietzsche
Papers are spotless
or they carry the yellow imprints of my daughters freeness from constipation
the exact carefulness of the arranged books..signals my death
for the movement of my roots ..has stuck me in them…
Alas!my self pity…
Will I ever grow beyond thee..
Rashneek"in abeyance"
Thursday, February 1, 2007
NADIM-THE HARBINGER OF RENAISSANCE IN KASHMIRI POETRY
The cascade was convulsed with laughter
Not aware who cried how much….
With the onset of 14th century the cultural renaissance in Kashmir had almost come to an abrupt end. The era of new ideas and fertile philosophical thoughts had died down owing to hostile historical and cultural incursions in the otherwise enlightened house of Sharda*.The great mystical poet and genius, Lal-Ded was probably the last new philosophical thought to have dawned in Kashmir till the time Dina Nath Nadim arose on the poetic firmament. Eminent Kashmiri scholar Dr.S.S.Toshkhani says and I quote “If you took out themes related to mysticism and love from Kashmiri poetry, there would remain nothing else at all”. The literary stagnation or death of ideas can be attributed to the fanatic and intolerant rulers who ruled Kashmir 14th century onwards till the arrival of British rule in Kashmir.
Dina Nath Nadim was born in an era when Kashmiri nationalism was searching for its roots. It was a time when young educated Kashmiris were beginning to feel that their mother tongue had suffered utter neglect for many centuries and thus had avowed to bring glory to Kashmiri language. The pioneers of this movement were Mahjoor and Abdul Ahad Azad. It goes to their credit that they liberated the language from the Persian influence. The arrival of these two young poets on the scene and the collapse of feudal system gave Kashmiris a renewed sense of confidence and freedom from the mental bondage, six hundred years of slavery had set them in. A new idiom in Kashmiri poetry had thus arrived, the idiom which was largely influenced by Marxist thought and progressive Indian writers.
Dina Nath Nadim’s father passed away when Nadim was just seven. Thus he saw days of abject poverty and it was his mother’s courage and resilience that made two ends meet. It was his mother who set the first seeds of poetry into the young boy. She would often sit by her spinning wheel and sing verses of Parmanand and Krishanjoo Razdan.The song she had written on the death of her husband was to haunt and influence Nadim for his life
The flower of my heart stole away
And did not return to bloom in spring
Where does he now lie concealed ?
Who knows who stole his heart!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
In his initial years as a poet Nadim wrote in English and it is believed that he was greatly influenced by T.S.Eliot. He also wrote in Urdu which was then the main language of poetic expression. There again he was greatly influenced by Iqbal,Chakbast,Josh and Bismil. His Urdu poems were however localized and Kashmir was the main theme in almost all his poems. He wrote poems in Hindi too but it was Kashmiri where he eventually found his style, images, forms, syllables and voice to his emotions.He made his presence felt on the Kashmiri poetics when he first read his poem Nov Sonth(New Spring) at a poetry recitation session at the famed Nishat Bagh.
Welcome the air with open doors!
The spring is here…(Translation By Rashneek Kher)
Nadim’s literary career had three definite phases. The first being the phase when India had just attained its independence and there was an air of hope and utopian Marxist ideas ruled the roost in literary circles. The environment was surcharged with sloganeering and rhetoric, which eventually found its way into the literary and cultural mainstream too.It was then that he wrote on almost all social and political issues. He spoke of the worker and tore off the capitalist in his rather peculiar poem,Sonth ti Harud(Spring and Fall).He supported the land to the tiller and wrote Aise Kaashirayav Tul Nov Rut Kadam(We,Kashmirs have taken the right step).There were other poems which hailed socialism and communist thought. It was however his path breaking experiment in free verse in the form of a poem, Bu Gavene Az (I will not sing today) which is considered as a milestone in the evolution of Kashmiri poetry. This was for the first time that free verse was written in Kashmiri and to this effect that anyone who read or heard the poem was mesmerized by the blending sound of the words and rhyme. Even though the essence of the poem seemed like a communist party manifesto yet the use of native collocations made it dear to every Kashmiri. Common Kashmiri phrases which poets of yesteryears had deemed unfit as poetic expression lend aesthetic expression and beauty to this poem. During the first phase of his career communism and Marxist ideas had great influence on him and it showed in almost all his poems but, Me Sham Aaash Pagehech(My Hope,Tomorrow)clearly stands out from the rest in terms of its content. There is no sloganeering, no Marxist ideas, it reflects layers of insecurity of a common Kashmiri in the times of uncertainty. It has three monologues, three persons having a tryst with their destinies howsoever small, nonetheless important for them. How they pray in vain for the war not to break tomorrow for tomorrow is their day of hope.
They say war is breaking out
But surely not tomorrow
When I have a rendezvous
It can’t break out tomorrow!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
It is in this period that Nadim wrote Son Watan(Our motherland),Sar-Subhai(The break of Dawn) and the first sonnets in Kashmiri language. One must not fail to mention his poem Dal Heanzni Hond Vatsun(Song of the Boatwoman) where the poet easily submerses into the role of a spokesperson for the poor and downtrodden Kashmiri. Everyday imagery has been used and intrinsically woven around the theme of a poor woman trying to sell vegetables and fish. The pathos of the poor woman arouses intense emotions and pain, the reader is almost drawn towards a state of empathy with the boatwoman. It was for the first time in Kashmiri poetry that a poet had identified so strongly with the masses.
I hear a baby crying
Someone is whimpering at my breast
O my good woman, my heart is not here
Come buy!Come buy!Come buy!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
Another great poem of this era which merits mention is the obituary Nadim wrote on the passing away of the secular nationalist poet Mahjoor.In his tribute in Gwonmatas motuk shar kari kyah(Artist is but immortral)he has immortalized Mahjoor with the assertion that an artist like Mahjoor will never die. He hasn’t rued on the loss of Mahjoor’s life but emphasized the fact that the latter has left behind a legacy of ideas which will keep him alive amongst the people of Kashmir.
Thus we move to the next era of his literary career which saw the fall of ideals and the icons that Nadim held close to his heart and reflected in his poetry. The erstwhile progressives and supposed Marxists were now in seats of power and their social, ethical and moral values stood exposed while running governments. It was but obvious that calls of equality, socialistic values and Marxist ideas were used as means to get to the seats of power. The mask had come off. The revolution was betrayed by the ones who were once its supposed torch bearers. Nadim wrote sarcastic, almost poems of black satire in the period following 1954.In his poem Kagaz Vaalesunz Hakh (Paper Vendors’ Cry) he emphasizes the new materialistic thought had consumed morals and dreams and how everything including conscience is up for sale. It was however his poem which he recited in the presence of the then Chief Minister as a dig at him that made his fearlessness evident.
Khwaja Mohammad is now a Nawab
But Moma remains Moma
Can you solve this puzzle?
Fill me a cup of wine!
(Translation by Rashneek Kher)
His poems Huti Nazran Dolaan Dyaar Matyo (Money Bags dangling before your eyes),Zindabad Me Haz Chu az chony Shreh(Today,You are the one I love) were in the same league and were full of sardonic humour and satire.The poem that is distinctively different from the poems Nadim wrote in this era is,Lakhchi chu Lakchun (Identification,Thy Mole)The poem is a literary marvel since Nadim has brought in symbols and images from different historical, mythical and geographical contexts and juxtaposed them in the native language. The poem in my opinion is Nadims first brush with feminine beauty albeit in a metaphysical context. The object of the entire feminine aspect of beauty centers on an otherwise inconsequential mole of the face of the lady. This is really the first poem where Nadim has attempted to stay clear of any social message but his ideology has had better of him as can be seen in the last two lines of the poem.
She has a mole
Above her artery
Pulsating love,
As if a mother
Nursed in her heart
The jewel of her eyes,
Whom she rears with love alone;
Joy of the poor woman who has gleaned from husk
Grain by grain, a handful of rice
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
With this we come to the third phase of Nadim’s literary career where his style had seen a change from sloganeering to suggesting. This is evident from his poem Naabad ti Tyathyvan(The Bitter and the Sweet)wherein the underlying theme of revolution is stated in hushed tones almost to the point of internalizing the philosophy of communism. The poet has borrowed heavily from mythology and woven what might seem like disparate and divergent elements into upsurge of love and its orgasmic climaxes with the shame and the guilt of the clandestine love post the coital. Although Nadim wrote various poems in this era with differing styles, rhyme and content but two poems without which the piece would be incomplete are Zalar Zaej(Cob webs) and Shihul Kul(The Tree of Shade).In Zalar Zaej the poet tries to present a picture of the society where entropy is the rule and disarray over rides every facet of life. The poet ends on a positive note hoping the arrival of dawn would usher in fresh ideas.In Shihul Kul the poet has attempted to paint the glorious traditions of Kashmir, of which the Chinar is the most potent symbol. The Chinar has welcomed everyone irrespective of colour, religion and race and nourished them under its benign shade.It is in this era that Nadim wrote a lot of short poems of which the prominent ones are Shah-i-Hamadan,Gaasa Tul,Tsoor,Taav Taav and Yapary Traviv Tsopary Nazarah.He wrote Haary’Saath(Happenings)as a group pf poems over a period of time.In these poems he has tried to revive the Vaakh, a form of poetry which Lal Ded started and wasn’t frequently used except for by Krishanjoo Razdan.
While his contribution to poetry is widely recognized his contributions to other fields of art like drama and short story needs to be equally appreciated and recorded. Nadim wrote the first opera in Kashmir and most of his operas were showcased in India as well as abroad.He brought new styles of presentation to drama in Kashmir and also revived the Band-Pather form of art in its new avatara on the stage.Some of his prominent operas were Heemal ta Naagraey and Bombur Yamberzal.Nadim wrote the first short story in Kashmiri and was thus a trendsetter in this field too. Nadim was a wordsmith who had this unique way of presenting his wares in a manner that rhyme and tinkle followed them. He brought out words which had probably gone into oblivion for no one used them. He wrote in the same language as the one spoken on the road. His imagery was drawn from the ordinary Kashmiri on the street. He was the first Kashmiri poet to write a free verse, blank verse, sonnet, haiku and short story .He broke the worn out and much used mould of poetry and replaced it with new images drawn from ordinary people. He was thus a people’s poet for he spoke their language and drew their inspiration from their everyday life.Nadim was an inspiration for poets in his generation and many more to follow. The present day great poets like Rahi,Kamil ,Firaq and Majboor wrote in styles which were similar to that of Nadim’s. Some of the poems written by his illustrious contemporaries like Santosh and Saqi were so similar in diction to Nadim’s poems that it was hard to tell one from another. Such was the influence Nadim wield over his contemporaries and the aspiring poets.
(Rashneek Kher)
Not aware who cried how much….
With the onset of 14th century the cultural renaissance in Kashmir had almost come to an abrupt end. The era of new ideas and fertile philosophical thoughts had died down owing to hostile historical and cultural incursions in the otherwise enlightened house of Sharda*.The great mystical poet and genius, Lal-Ded was probably the last new philosophical thought to have dawned in Kashmir till the time Dina Nath Nadim arose on the poetic firmament. Eminent Kashmiri scholar Dr.S.S.Toshkhani says and I quote “If you took out themes related to mysticism and love from Kashmiri poetry, there would remain nothing else at all”. The literary stagnation or death of ideas can be attributed to the fanatic and intolerant rulers who ruled Kashmir 14th century onwards till the arrival of British rule in Kashmir.
Dina Nath Nadim was born in an era when Kashmiri nationalism was searching for its roots. It was a time when young educated Kashmiris were beginning to feel that their mother tongue had suffered utter neglect for many centuries and thus had avowed to bring glory to Kashmiri language. The pioneers of this movement were Mahjoor and Abdul Ahad Azad. It goes to their credit that they liberated the language from the Persian influence. The arrival of these two young poets on the scene and the collapse of feudal system gave Kashmiris a renewed sense of confidence and freedom from the mental bondage, six hundred years of slavery had set them in. A new idiom in Kashmiri poetry had thus arrived, the idiom which was largely influenced by Marxist thought and progressive Indian writers.
Dina Nath Nadim’s father passed away when Nadim was just seven. Thus he saw days of abject poverty and it was his mother’s courage and resilience that made two ends meet. It was his mother who set the first seeds of poetry into the young boy. She would often sit by her spinning wheel and sing verses of Parmanand and Krishanjoo Razdan.The song she had written on the death of her husband was to haunt and influence Nadim for his life
The flower of my heart stole away
And did not return to bloom in spring
Where does he now lie concealed ?
Who knows who stole his heart!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
In his initial years as a poet Nadim wrote in English and it is believed that he was greatly influenced by T.S.Eliot. He also wrote in Urdu which was then the main language of poetic expression. There again he was greatly influenced by Iqbal,Chakbast,Josh and Bismil. His Urdu poems were however localized and Kashmir was the main theme in almost all his poems. He wrote poems in Hindi too but it was Kashmiri where he eventually found his style, images, forms, syllables and voice to his emotions.He made his presence felt on the Kashmiri poetics when he first read his poem Nov Sonth(New Spring) at a poetry recitation session at the famed Nishat Bagh.
Welcome the air with open doors!
The spring is here…(Translation By Rashneek Kher)
Nadim’s literary career had three definite phases. The first being the phase when India had just attained its independence and there was an air of hope and utopian Marxist ideas ruled the roost in literary circles. The environment was surcharged with sloganeering and rhetoric, which eventually found its way into the literary and cultural mainstream too.It was then that he wrote on almost all social and political issues. He spoke of the worker and tore off the capitalist in his rather peculiar poem,Sonth ti Harud(Spring and Fall).He supported the land to the tiller and wrote Aise Kaashirayav Tul Nov Rut Kadam(We,Kashmirs have taken the right step).There were other poems which hailed socialism and communist thought. It was however his path breaking experiment in free verse in the form of a poem, Bu Gavene Az (I will not sing today) which is considered as a milestone in the evolution of Kashmiri poetry. This was for the first time that free verse was written in Kashmiri and to this effect that anyone who read or heard the poem was mesmerized by the blending sound of the words and rhyme. Even though the essence of the poem seemed like a communist party manifesto yet the use of native collocations made it dear to every Kashmiri. Common Kashmiri phrases which poets of yesteryears had deemed unfit as poetic expression lend aesthetic expression and beauty to this poem. During the first phase of his career communism and Marxist ideas had great influence on him and it showed in almost all his poems but, Me Sham Aaash Pagehech(My Hope,Tomorrow)clearly stands out from the rest in terms of its content. There is no sloganeering, no Marxist ideas, it reflects layers of insecurity of a common Kashmiri in the times of uncertainty. It has three monologues, three persons having a tryst with their destinies howsoever small, nonetheless important for them. How they pray in vain for the war not to break tomorrow for tomorrow is their day of hope.
They say war is breaking out
But surely not tomorrow
When I have a rendezvous
It can’t break out tomorrow!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
It is in this period that Nadim wrote Son Watan(Our motherland),Sar-Subhai(The break of Dawn) and the first sonnets in Kashmiri language. One must not fail to mention his poem Dal Heanzni Hond Vatsun(Song of the Boatwoman) where the poet easily submerses into the role of a spokesperson for the poor and downtrodden Kashmiri. Everyday imagery has been used and intrinsically woven around the theme of a poor woman trying to sell vegetables and fish. The pathos of the poor woman arouses intense emotions and pain, the reader is almost drawn towards a state of empathy with the boatwoman. It was for the first time in Kashmiri poetry that a poet had identified so strongly with the masses.
I hear a baby crying
Someone is whimpering at my breast
O my good woman, my heart is not here
Come buy!Come buy!Come buy!
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
Another great poem of this era which merits mention is the obituary Nadim wrote on the passing away of the secular nationalist poet Mahjoor.In his tribute in Gwonmatas motuk shar kari kyah(Artist is but immortral)he has immortalized Mahjoor with the assertion that an artist like Mahjoor will never die. He hasn’t rued on the loss of Mahjoor’s life but emphasized the fact that the latter has left behind a legacy of ideas which will keep him alive amongst the people of Kashmir.
Thus we move to the next era of his literary career which saw the fall of ideals and the icons that Nadim held close to his heart and reflected in his poetry. The erstwhile progressives and supposed Marxists were now in seats of power and their social, ethical and moral values stood exposed while running governments. It was but obvious that calls of equality, socialistic values and Marxist ideas were used as means to get to the seats of power. The mask had come off. The revolution was betrayed by the ones who were once its supposed torch bearers. Nadim wrote sarcastic, almost poems of black satire in the period following 1954.In his poem Kagaz Vaalesunz Hakh (Paper Vendors’ Cry) he emphasizes the new materialistic thought had consumed morals and dreams and how everything including conscience is up for sale. It was however his poem which he recited in the presence of the then Chief Minister as a dig at him that made his fearlessness evident.
Khwaja Mohammad is now a Nawab
But Moma remains Moma
Can you solve this puzzle?
Fill me a cup of wine!
(Translation by Rashneek Kher)
His poems Huti Nazran Dolaan Dyaar Matyo (Money Bags dangling before your eyes),Zindabad Me Haz Chu az chony Shreh(Today,You are the one I love) were in the same league and were full of sardonic humour and satire.The poem that is distinctively different from the poems Nadim wrote in this era is,Lakhchi chu Lakchun (Identification,Thy Mole)The poem is a literary marvel since Nadim has brought in symbols and images from different historical, mythical and geographical contexts and juxtaposed them in the native language. The poem in my opinion is Nadims first brush with feminine beauty albeit in a metaphysical context. The object of the entire feminine aspect of beauty centers on an otherwise inconsequential mole of the face of the lady. This is really the first poem where Nadim has attempted to stay clear of any social message but his ideology has had better of him as can be seen in the last two lines of the poem.
She has a mole
Above her artery
Pulsating love,
As if a mother
Nursed in her heart
The jewel of her eyes,
Whom she rears with love alone;
Joy of the poor woman who has gleaned from husk
Grain by grain, a handful of rice
(Translation by T.N.Raina)
With this we come to the third phase of Nadim’s literary career where his style had seen a change from sloganeering to suggesting. This is evident from his poem Naabad ti Tyathyvan(The Bitter and the Sweet)wherein the underlying theme of revolution is stated in hushed tones almost to the point of internalizing the philosophy of communism. The poet has borrowed heavily from mythology and woven what might seem like disparate and divergent elements into upsurge of love and its orgasmic climaxes with the shame and the guilt of the clandestine love post the coital. Although Nadim wrote various poems in this era with differing styles, rhyme and content but two poems without which the piece would be incomplete are Zalar Zaej(Cob webs) and Shihul Kul(The Tree of Shade).In Zalar Zaej the poet tries to present a picture of the society where entropy is the rule and disarray over rides every facet of life. The poet ends on a positive note hoping the arrival of dawn would usher in fresh ideas.In Shihul Kul the poet has attempted to paint the glorious traditions of Kashmir, of which the Chinar is the most potent symbol. The Chinar has welcomed everyone irrespective of colour, religion and race and nourished them under its benign shade.It is in this era that Nadim wrote a lot of short poems of which the prominent ones are Shah-i-Hamadan,Gaasa Tul,Tsoor,Taav Taav and Yapary Traviv Tsopary Nazarah.He wrote Haary’Saath(Happenings)as a group pf poems over a period of time.In these poems he has tried to revive the Vaakh, a form of poetry which Lal Ded started and wasn’t frequently used except for by Krishanjoo Razdan.
While his contribution to poetry is widely recognized his contributions to other fields of art like drama and short story needs to be equally appreciated and recorded. Nadim wrote the first opera in Kashmir and most of his operas were showcased in India as well as abroad.He brought new styles of presentation to drama in Kashmir and also revived the Band-Pather form of art in its new avatara on the stage.Some of his prominent operas were Heemal ta Naagraey and Bombur Yamberzal.Nadim wrote the first short story in Kashmiri and was thus a trendsetter in this field too. Nadim was a wordsmith who had this unique way of presenting his wares in a manner that rhyme and tinkle followed them. He brought out words which had probably gone into oblivion for no one used them. He wrote in the same language as the one spoken on the road. His imagery was drawn from the ordinary Kashmiri on the street. He was the first Kashmiri poet to write a free verse, blank verse, sonnet, haiku and short story .He broke the worn out and much used mould of poetry and replaced it with new images drawn from ordinary people. He was thus a people’s poet for he spoke their language and drew their inspiration from their everyday life.Nadim was an inspiration for poets in his generation and many more to follow. The present day great poets like Rahi,Kamil ,Firaq and Majboor wrote in styles which were similar to that of Nadim’s. Some of the poems written by his illustrious contemporaries like Santosh and Saqi were so similar in diction to Nadim’s poems that it was hard to tell one from another. Such was the influence Nadim wield over his contemporaries and the aspiring poets.
(Rashneek Kher)
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Dead End
The road to what was once my home in Kashmir....zuv chum bramaan ghare gachehae..
