I am talking of a period that
could be before 1947 when life had its limited demands in Kashmir.
‘ Kam khyon gum na hyon ’
( Eat less why worry unnecessarily)
‘ Yemiss na garie maelli taemiss kyaa maelli
parie’
(He who can not get it in his hometown, what
shall he get in faraway places? )
These phrases were coined by Kashmiris to
justify their complacency, immobility,
refusal to accept change and the strange sense of self-satisfaction that
prevailed in the valley. Apart from the section of the people engaged in
ordinary trade or petty jobs, all activities of the remaining locals revolved
around Shaali (rice ), Kangri, Haak vegetable and of course religion.
A Kashmiri was always indifferent
to mobility and as such suffered. He moved only when driven to the wall or when
all other options closed for him. Isn’t it a fact that those who moved out
during devastating floods, famines, cholera epidemics or suppression, moved to
a better life ultimately?
Unbelievable but true, a Kashmiri
possesses enormous survival instinct that remains unseen in his native land. In
his native land, he remains a victim of a clogged thought process that he may
be forced to acquire.
If we look at the Muslims who
moved to Amritsar, Ludhiana, Lahore and other cities for various reasons in the
19th century and thereafter, we find that these groups gradually moved to a
better life. From this group, Dr Iqbal, Sadat Hassan Manto, Nawaz Sharif, Saif
ud din Kitchloo, Actor Nawab Kashmiri, Playwright Agha Hashr Kashmiri, Poet
Lyricist Sufi Tabassum, wrestler Rustam e Hind Ghulam Mohammad Gama Pehlwan,
Urdu Poet Meeraji ( Mohammed Sanaullah Dar) and many more names instantly come
to my mind.
And If we look at the Pandits who
moved to the plains of the country and settled at
Allahabad, Lucknow, Delhi and other cities,
we find them moving to prosperity and better life gradually. Pandit Jawahar Lal
Nehru, Kailas Nath Katju, Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, P N Haksar, Pandit Brij Narain
Chakbast, actor Jeevan, actor Sapru and so many names come to my mind
immediately.
This prosperity was possible due
to better avenues of modern education, access to the avenues of employment , proximity to means of production and distribution coupled with resilience and a
great survival instinct.
Due to lesser interaction with the
outside world at large, we Kashmiris probably lived in our own world and
developed some traits that were area-specific and environment-specific. We were
a gentle and simple lot. Despite our strong religious beliefs, there was
something that a Kashmiri lacked. Many Europeans who came closer to Kashmiris
have observed and commented that when the action was desired of him, a Kashmiri
would shy away ( ‘ Thhaav third or mey thhovuss treathh meaning’ ‘ Runaway or I
sneaked out ) to such an extent that inaction, unresponsiveness and casualness
became a trait of his character. ‘Vasvaas’ and "Hai hey" was our
typical trait. In no language, the world over you find an exact equivalent to
word Vasvaas ( originally derived from Urdu word Vasvsaasa) as it means in
Kashmiri. Maybe at the back of our mind, insecurity always loomed its large
shadows. There is a historical background to this settled and now DNA ingrained
insecurity in us. We believe in ‘Khabar chhaa’ meaning
‘who knows what is going to happen?’ That
makes us buy in kilograms what others buy in grams. I have seen, in my own
family and also in the families of some close relations,
an irresistible habit of stocking and storing
rice, edible oil. spices and other provisions. They continue to do so even in
plains of the country. No one will agree to a change from this ‘Khabar chhaa
’mindset.
My Australian friend, who stayed
in Kashmir for some months and picked up another interesting trait of our
character. I quote him :
‘ You can never expect a clear
‘No’ from a Kashmiri for something that he can not do. His okay is always
casual and never means a committed ‘Yes’
.For some job that is apparently full of issues and problems, he would
give a stock reply ‘ No problem sir. Why do you worry? ‘ Sometimes he would
say, ‘
No worry Sir. I am still alive.’
I wish he stood by these commitments that he made to all and sundry.’
This observation was largely true. We tend to
respond this way only. This could also be due to a sincere desire to help
others without understanding our capacity,
limitations and freedom. I can't say much.
'Hataa ma kur vaen zyaada, votta a
voth -- Pushraav khodaayuss ’ meaning ‘ Now don’t make more efforts. Pass it on
to Almighty ‘ and ‘ Talaa beh chhopp karithh – vaen guvv sorooi Bagvaanus
hawaala karun ’
meaning ‘ Now you sit
without efforts. Entrust it to almighty God '. These phrases were a part of our
day to day life in Kashmir. To analyze them carefully, we need to break each
phrase into two parts. One being ‘Pushraav khodaayuss ’ and ‘Vaen Guvv sorooi
Bagvanus hawaala ‘
No issue with this
part. This is quite natural and acceptable . I have my issues with the other
parts ‘ Hataa ma kur vaen Zyaada vottt a voth ’and ‘Talaa beh chhopp karithh.’
Were not these statements anti initiative meant to stop a person from making
some efforts himself? A hint towards complacency and avoidance of initiative
and effort.
We had another serious problem and
complex as city dwellers. When it came to Gaamuk or a villager's issue, a city
Pandit and Muslim from the city would join together to make fun of a poor
villager. ‘Kolla gaameikkya’ or ‘Gaama Groos ’ was a taunt that the villager
had to face should there be any argument with a city dweller. Kashmiris (
Pandits in specific ) would hesitate in marrying their daughters to a villager
even if he may have been well settled or better employed. ‘ Kyaa sa kashiri
gayaa kaah garaa ta khaanmaej ditchvun gaam kun’ meaning ‘What happened? Are
there only eleven households in the city that you have married this darling
daughter to a villager .’
We were the best gossip mongers
and derived pleasure by mocking simpletons and at times even insane persons
which in local parlance was known as Garmaavun. Garmaavun meant to tease or
mock or laugh at a person till he breaks down. Those who lived in Rainawari
shall stand by me when I say how people dealt with a poor and insane
Ghulam
Mohammad. As he moved through
Bazars and lanes, people would cry “Takka Addij’
or ‘Takka the bone’, a nickname given to him.
The poor fellow would turn violent, pick up a stone and shower nastiest abuses.
A crowd of onlookers would collect to watch all this. They would giggle, smile
and entertain themselves.
We were also masters in inventing
nicknames and experts in lampooning people. As a group, we could be fine
onlookers to any misfortune or tragedy should it visit others. I have
personally seen many Pandits and Muslims hanging around a bridge enjoying,
provoking and witnessing poor Haanjis ( boat people ) engaged in a typical
verbal dual or fight. Crowds would rush to enjoy what they called 'Haanz
-Ladaai 'or ‘fight of boat people ’. Together they would giggle, smile and
enjoy as a group over the bridge while the poor Haanjis fought for hours below.
And This ‘Tamaashbeen ’ trait was
also demonstrated during frequent fires that erupted in Kashmir in the last
quarter of the 19th century or the first quarter of the 20th century. Crowds
would come to a house on fire and take comfortable seats away from the heat and
smoke. They were excited and would go to witness these fires as if they were
going to a cinema hall for a movie. They would look to what was happening
around with cries and thrill.
I quote Tyndale Biscoe from the
book ‘ Tyndale Biscoe In Kashmir - An Autobiography ’:-
‘ I was teaching in my class in
the top room overhanging the river when I heard a bugle call. Looking up, I saw
a figure on the roof of a house some half-mile away. I asked my boys what it
meant and they replied that the policeman was warning everyone that a house was
on fire. The boys not being interested went on with their writing. Within
minutes I saw now flames and smoke rising from the same house. I ordered the
Boys to stop writing and come with me to help at the fire, But they said that
they had nothing to do with it and they wished to continue with their lessons.
I then took action and drove them out of the classrooms into the street. When
we arrived there, we found that scores of citizens had already taken seats at
every available place to enjoy themselves at an entertainment for which they
would have nothing to pay. As flames spread from one house to another, they
seemed highly delighted shouting ‘ Hurrah! ’
Thank god, Everything has changed
now. This has been possible with the spread of education and revolution brought
by Information Technology. The Kashmiri character has also undergone a
metamorphosis towards development.
Young Kashmiris hailing from
Pandit and Muslim families are now venturing out for better education and
employment. I find them going up and up the ladder in all fields. They are
focused, honest and sincere and accordingly much needed by the employers
globally. They are visible in the sunrise IT sector, medicine, media, cinema,
sports, administration and the new business enterprises.
A Kashmiri is an acknowledged
competitor now, a fierce one in any arena across the globe.
(Avtar Mota )
.
.