Connect with us

Opinion

Kashmir’s Deep and Intricate Blend of History

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

IST


By Saif Ali Khawaja

Those who are familiar with Kashmir are mostly so because of its either veracities: beauty and violence. Begs the question that why do they frequently exist in a pair? Yet beyond a million tales of despair, Kashmir is much more than just death and allure. Beneath its commonplace existence, lies a deep and intricate blend of history. What we today understand as Kashmir is a result of two millennial long hybridisation of Buddhist, Hindu and Islamic cultures.
Long before the ascent of Hinduism or Islam, Kashmir was the centre of Buddhism in North India and was the source of its passageway into Ladakh, Tibet and China. This fact is corroborated by the discovery of numerous ruins of Buddhist viharas, chaityas and stupas across Kashmir during the early 20th century and later on and also, implicitly by the influence of Buddhism on the Kashmiri architecture (for example, Sufi shrines with multi-tier roofs just like that of Pagodas, the Buddhist temples).
The most venerable among these remnants are the Parihaspore ruins. Parihaspore lies some 24 kilometres from the city centre on the Srinagar-Baramulla highway after a sharp turn near the sericulture nursery at Mirgund.
The road that leads up to the plateau crosses the historic village of Divar, once famous for its potters. Parihaspore, called KaniShahar (city of stones) locally, can be translated to ‘city of laughter’ in the Sanskrit language. The ruins are of temples and residential structures built by Kashmiri King LalitadityaMuktapida (699-760AD) of Karkota dynasty in 700 C.E when he shifted his capital from Srinagar.
As per Kalhana, the author of Rajtarangini (a chronicle of ‘Kings of Kasmir’), who goes head over heels to glorify him as a great warrior, Muktapida conquered large parts of the subcontinent from Kabul to Central Indian plains making Kashmir the centre of power. Muktapida ruled during a phase that marked the transition from Buddhism to Hinduism in Kashmir or rather a phase when Buddhism coexisted with Hinduism.
After a steep hike up the plateau, I reached what has now become a marketplace near the ruins. My uncle, a local from Divar village, was accompanying me. A university along with students’ dorms, multiple cafes, colonies for policemen and a farmhouse by some local political leader have recently mushroomed around the site. After trudging a bit we reached the gates of the compound which lies almost at the margins of the plateau from where one can see a jaw-dropping panoramic view of the Srinagar city, a thick layer of smog altogether brightening its lights.
The main complex of the site is fenced by ASI (Archaeological Survey of India) and consists of 3 main structures. The ruins of the first structure that clutches one’s glance on entering the compound is the plinth of a temple that was dedicated to Lord Vishnu, which used to have sculptures adorned in gold and silver back in its days of glory. Kalhana also mentions in his Rajtarangni that a huge pillar depicting Garuda (A bird that is Lord Vishnu’s ‘vahana’- mount vehicle in Hindu mythology) was erected by Lalitaditya and glorified the grandeur of the place. The statues and idols were looted and plundered over time after Lalitaditya’s sons moved the capital back to Srinagar. Some idols excavated from the site lie at the SPS Museum in Srinagar but most of them were shipped off to various cities across India.
The next structure that lays just ahead of the temple is the ruins of the plinth of Raj Vihara or the King’s palace where the demarcations for the rooms are still visible and in its centre lies a large water tank carved from a single stone. As I saw a local family spread out their sheets for a little picnic and some kids play in the ancient water tank now embellished with grass and moss, I could only imagine the pomp and opulence of this palace back in its time when it was just at the disposal of the mighty king.
Still the most conspicuous of all the structures are the ruins of the Buddhist Chaitya (a prayer hall) that lies a tad bit away, in a central position, with a very imposing appearance. On careful observation, it seemed like a replica of a mandala (symbolism for the universe as well as the nature of the mind in Buddhist cosmology), with a typical raised plinth with entrances on all four directions.
The Chaitya bears clear symbols of Mahayana Buddhism, with beautifully sculpted reliefs of Buddha on the front of the stone palisade covering the stairs and dragons carved all over the margins of the plinth. Massive steps lead up to the main hall where as per Kalhana, a towering statue of Buddha used to sit. This must have been later plundered as now a huge uncanny stone lies in middle of the Chaitya with snakes loitering all around it.
As I couldn’t understand its position or significance, my uncle, perceiving so, said that it was placed by a couple, Divraz and Yakmaen, who laid a treasure under it and in future, someone descended from the potters of Divar will locomote it away to reveal the riches.
As per the local myths, the temples were built by the same couple, the man named Divraz and the women named Yakmaen long back in time. “They used to ferry these huge stones on river Jehlum that passed adjacent to the plateau and then carry them up to the site”, my uncle added. Historical facts do ascertain that at one point the river used to drift just nearby but was diverted by human intervention during King Avantivarman’s (855-883 C.E) time.
Apart from the three structures rest of the compound lies bestrewed with big blocks of rectangular stones that once must have been part of the temples and the palace; some of them sculptured with Buddhist symbols and some unadorned. The stones from the complex were disassembled for use by later Kings for various temples and other projects like the Sugandhesha temple in Pattan. Some of the blocks were utilised by the Dogra Maharaja of Jammu Kashmir to build the Jehlum cart road.
Just when I was about to depart from the place some curious locals greeted my uncle. After probing my cause of visit they told me about the local potters of Divar village, who are said to have lived there since the time of the historian Kalhana. Only one of these families still makes pottery. On further enquiries, I found out that people still find remnants of ancient pottery during the ploughing season. Cups, mugs, pitchers, plates with beautiful motifs: almost everyone has had a find.
“Some people even find stone idols of Buddha and Vishnu after digging up the orchard-laden wuder (plateau)”, said GhulamHasan, a local. They then pass it to black markets in exchange for hefty prices. Yet it was disheartening to know that some land mafia are systematically plundering the plateau by earthmoving the karewa soil which is considered good for various agricultural purposes. This has led to defacement of the plateau from various sides.
After conveying my goodbyes I decided to descend down the wuder but stood stupefied by the beautiful sunset sinking down the peaks of western Himalayas with the silhouette of Parihaspore in the foreground. Such monuments should be celebrated, preserved and protected better, yet we let them evanesce into dust in front of our eyes.
(thecitizen.in)

 

The Kashmir Monitor is the fastest growing newspaper as well as digitial platform covering news from all angles.

Comments

Opinion

INDESCRIBABLE JOHN ELI

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Shabbir Aariz

This indeed is proverbially a herculean task to describe or define John Elia in any particular frame. Whosoever while mentioning him, is either trapped in contradictions of one’s own opinion or is able to confine to a few verses of John Elia to judge him. But the more one tries to understand John, the more confused one is and I believe that you need another John Elia to explain him. He is a phenomenon, a thing like a live fish to hold in your hand or an elephant amongst blinds to be described. Wusatullah Khan, a noted broadcaster, holds that knowing John is as good as dating with a liberated lady. And it is quite obvious that a man who in him is a philosopher, a scholar, a biographer, a linguist with command over Urdu, Arabic, English, Persian, Sanskrit and Hebrew and needless to say that the Ismaili sect of the subcontinent could not find anyone other than John to translate Ismaili treatises from Hebrew, it becomes a tedious affair to be conclusive about John. Common perception though with an element of truth is that John is a progressive Marxist, an unconventional poet and always in denial of everything including himself while himself saying in three line verse,

“KISKO FUSAT K MUJSAY BAHAS KARAY…..

 

OOR SABIT KARAY K MERA WAJOOD….

ZINDZGI K LIYAY ZARORI HAY

(Anyone prepared to argue and prove that my existence is imperative for life). His poetry is admittedly very close to life and his verses in the words of a legendry poet, Majrooh Sultanpuri, are like a dialogue which no other poet has the distinction to be capable of. John has an extra-ordinary craft of connecting with his audience that has created an unprecedented fan following which no other contemporary poet can claim to have. So magical is his poetry and its rendition that it has created a cult of his admirers with such an obsession and longing for the life of melancholy lead by John Elia himself. It is no secret that he was never a happy man with defiance and protest against everything and anything around. Loudly a nonconformist when he says
“unjaman main mayri khamooshi…..

burdabari nahin hay wehshat hay”.

His style made him famous and popular. He appears to be disgusted even with creation when he says … “HASILE KUN HAY YEH JAHANE KHARAAB….

YAHI MUMKIN THA AYSI UJLAT MAIN”.

His admirers strangely wish to pass through the same pain and despair that is hallmark of John’s poetry besides satire and the disdain for the system which contributed to his sadness in life. He has so glorified and romanticized the pain and sadness that it leaves his audience in frenzied ecstasy.

John Elia was born in the year 1931 and died in 2002. He originally belonged to Amroha in the state of Uttar Pradesh, younger brother of Rayees Amrohi, a known journalist and writer. John migrated to Pakistan in the year 1957 and settled in Karachi where he is buried now. But Amroha never left his heart and mind. He never felt comfortable after leaving Amroha partly because his stay in Karachi brought him in conflict with the system too. Many other things have also contributed to his sadness in life. He was married to a well-known writer of Pakistan, Zahida Hina but in mid-80’s , the relation between the two became bumpy and ended up in divorce which left John devastated and for ten long years thereafter went in depression without writing a word.

As is true about many in the history of literature, John earned his name and fame more after his death than in his life time while he was not received well and felt a strange type of suffocation when he says,

“AAP APNAY SAY HUMSUKHAN REHNA…..

HUMNISHEEN SAANS PHOOL JATI HAY”.

Thanks to the electronic boom and You Tube that brought him to the lime light and enabled audience to reach him and his works. As if this was not enough that his first poetic collection only came to be published when he reached the age of 60. It is worthwhile mention that he has as many as seven poetic collections to his credit namely SHAYAD, YANI, LEKIN, GUMAAN, GOYA, FARMOD and RAMOOZ. Except one, all other are published posthumously. This is besides his scholarly works in prose which may require greater insight to go into.

John all his life remained honest, direct and straightforward in expressing his views on matters of public interest. He also never demonstrated any pretentions or reservations while expressing the truth of his personal life. He never made any secret of his fantasies, love affairs or drinking habits. Yet he was never at peace either with the times or with himself. John Elia, in my humble opinion lived ahead of times and even the desire of dying young without being bed ridden was not granted to him except that he strangely enough wanted to die of tuberculosis and which he did.

(The author, a senior lawyers, is a well known poet and writer. Feedback at: [email protected])

Continue Reading

Opinion

Manto: Why I wanted to read a ‘lewd’ writer

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Naveed Hussain

I first read Saadat Hasan Manto as a teenager and the spirit of what I’m writing now was etched on my memory in those years.

I was too young to understand the intricacies of his stories but I enjoyed what I read and craved for more. Back then, Manto wasn’t available in the small town of Haripur where I lived. A friend introduced me to a schoolteacher, a bibliophile who had a modest collection of Manto in his personal library.

 

“Why do you want to read Manto, he’s a ribald, lewd writer,” he quipped. “This is exactly why I want to read him,” I replied, almost impulsively. He smiled and agreed to lend me Manto’s books. Thus began my journey to explore Manto. The more I read, the deeper my love for him became.

Manto was a nonconformist, an unorthodox and ruthlessly bold writer. He didn’t believe in the so-called literary norms of ‘decency’ and ‘civility’ set by didactic writers of his time. For him, truth is truth. No matter how bitter and despicable the reality, Manto never dilutes the truth. Like a muckraker, he pokes his nose into the muck, rakes it, and then holds it up to the reader – in all its profound ugliness and twisted beauty. “If you don’t know your society, read my stories. If you find a defect, it’s the defect of your society, not my stories,” he says.

Manto wrote on socially taboo topics like sex, incest and prostitution, which earned him the wrath of contemporary traditionalists, conservatives and even progressives. For some of his ‘lewd’ and ‘obscene’ stories he had to face lawsuits – among them were great stories such as Thanda Gosht, Bu, Khol Do, Dhuan and Kali Shalwar.

But it is to miss the point to simply say that Manto wrote about sex. He wrote about the sexual debauchery of men and the sexual exploitation of women; about our patriarchal society where women are often treated as a ‘sex toy’, not a human being. Unlike many, I don’t compare Manto with DH Lawrence, because Manto is not lustful, even though he explicitly writes about the female anatomy. He’s more like Guy de Maupassant, who sees the throbbing heart, not the sensuous body, of the prostitute.

Manto blames the ‘diseased mind’ for reading ‘ribaldry’ into his stories. If a sex maniac derives morbid gratification from Venus De Milo, should we blame Alexandros of Antioch for chiselling such a ‘graphic’ sculpture? No, certainly not.

For contemporary literary pundits, Manto was also unacceptable because he wrote ‘indecent’ language. “They [the critics] criticise me when my characters verbally abuse one another – but why don’t they criticise their society instead where hundreds of thousands of profanities are hurled on the streets, every day,” he wonders.

I also love Manto because he was honest. He was an unflinchingly true writer who believed in calling a spade a spade. Sketch-writing was introduced as a genre in Urdu literature much earlier, but Manto created his own peculiar tell-all style. He didn’t write only the good qualities of his characters. “In my bathroom, everyone is naked. I don’t clothe them because it’s the tailor’s job,” he writes.

Manto’s sketches, which he initially wrote for the Lahore-based Daily Afaq newspaper, were later collected and published as Ganjay Farishtay. Manto wasn’t a hypocrite. He minced no words while writing about his dead friends. “I curse a thousand times a so-called civilised society where a man’s character is cleansed of all its ills and tagged as ‘May-God-Bless Him’,” Manto wrote in Ganjay Farishtay. Manto wrote sketches of filmstars Ashok Kumar, Shyam, Noor Jahan, literary figures such as Meera Ji, Agha Hashar and Ismat Chughtai and some politicians. “I have no camera that could have washed smallpox marks off the face of Agha Hashar or change obscenities uttered by him in his flowery style.”

Before embarking on his literary career, Manto had read Russian, French and English masters like Chekhov, Gorky, Victor Hugo, de Maupassant and Oscar Wilde and translated some of their works into Urdu. Surprisingly enough, despite his love for revolutionaries, Manto was not a Marxist ideologue. He was a humanist who was pained to see social injustices, economic disparities and exploitation of the underprivileged. He hated the obscurantist clergy and parasitic elites alike.

Although Manto had migrated to Pakistan after 1947, he couldn’t understand the rationale of partitioning a land along religious lines. His stories of bloodshed and cross-border migration, such as Teetwaal Ka Kutta and Toba Tek Singh, made him unpopular with ‘patriotic’ Pakistanis. To this day he remains a shadowy figure on the official literary lists of Pakistan: our school curricula, our national awards, our drawing room conversations.

Manto was acknowledged as a creative genius even by his detractors. And he knew this, which is perhaps why he wanted these words to mark his grave: “Here lies Saadat Hasan Manto and with him lie all the secrets and mysteries of the art of short story writing. Under tons of earth he lies, still wondering who among the two is the greater short story writer: he or God.”

Manto’s family feared his self-written epitaph would attract the unwanted attention of the ignorantly religious, so on his grave one finds a Ghalib couplet. He faced censorship all his life and even now has chunks of his stories taken out by the authorities. But as we mark his centenary year, I can say this with the instant certainty I felt as a young man in Haripur: the words and stories of Saadat Hasan Manto will outlive us all.

Continue Reading

Opinion

Gauhar Raza: Giving Poetry the Power to Protest

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Asheesh Mamgain

If things were different his poems would have been different, or maybe he would not have been a poet at all. But things are what they are. And that is why Gauhar Raza, the poet is writing, and it is why he writes his poetry of protest.

“Maybe I would have written about love, the beauty of nature and science. But as things stand my poetry is predominantly about resistance and protest,” said Raza, who is faithful to the tradition of resistance poetry to the extent that he has throttled, without much difficulty, the romantic and the scientist in him. “The need to write poetry always arose when something happened around me which affected me, to the core. I have never written and will never write poetry just for the sake of it.”

 

“The murder of Safdar Hashmi, the breaking up of the Soviet Union, the demolition of the Babri Masjid, the killing of an activist in Afghanistan, the death of Rohith Vemula are some of those things,” he said.

Raza’s second published collection of ghazals and nazms (71 in all) came out in November 2017 and is titled Khamoshi, or Silence.

Is there a lot of anger in his poems? Yes, there is definitely a lot of anger. But then there is also hope. That is where Raza becomes special.

“For me, a poem that merely complains or rants about the injustice, violence and persecution happening all around is not enough. A poet has to go beyond this; he has to give a vision. The vision of an alternative world, of a better world. Only then will his poetry be successful and meaningful. A poet has to show the consciousness he wants to bring into society.”

So how does he define good poetry? “Well, a good poem should be able to raise the level of the reader at least one notch higher, and also give him a fresh perspective about the aspect being dealt in the poem. Something new to dwell upon,” said Raza.

The influences that shaped his poetic thought came pretty early, at home and at the Aligarh Muslim University where he studied. Raza’s father, Wizarat Hussain, worked in the education department there and was a second-generation Leftist.

“The question about the existence of God came up very early in my life and soon I became an atheist for life,” said Raza. Literature was read with passion at home and by the time he was 15 he had read all the Urdu literature available at the AMU library as well as a solid portion of Russian literature.

“During my growing years, Leftist thought had a major presence in the university. On the other hand, the fundamental forces were also steadily getting stronger. I was smitten by the leftist idea. I was part of a literary study circle, we served tea at the secret meetings of leftist groups and listened to discussions at home between my father and other intellectuals such as Irfan Habib and Iqtidar Alam Khan.”

There was a lot of churning in his mind and soon he started pouring the remnants of all that into his poems. When it comes to poetry some of Raza’s major influences have been Ghalib, Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Sahir Ludhianvi. He is often seen reciting their work at length during his various lectures, with Sahir Ludhianvi’s long poem ‘Parchhaiyan’ or Shadows one of his favourites.

“Writing the kind of poetry I do is not easy. Each time a write a poem I must relive all the pain and emotion I went through when the particular incident happened that forced me to write. All those disturbing images come rushing back to me. It is a difficult thing to undergo.”

Nor is poetry Raza’s only means of reaching the people. He recently retired as chief scientist from the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research. He is also into documentary filmmaking, his documentaries on Bhagat Singh and the 2002 Gujarat genocide being very well known.

Where does poetry stand today, as a means of communication with the reader? According to Raza, “for one, social media has helped. It has helped poets reach a wider audience. Also, the tradition of musharias and kavi sammelans (poetry meets) is still very strong in India. So even if a poet is competing with the multimedia world, it is easy to reach one’s audience with one’s poetry, provided you have something pertinent to say.”

More broadly speaking, however, “I have to say that things have progressed in a disturbing direction. A poem I wrote 20 years ago, I could rededicate it to Rohith Vemula and then to Gauri Lankesh. This disturbing trend is seen all over the world. I believe that the fall of the USSR has been a major turning point in the way our World has evolved.”

A few lines from one of his poems brings out his concern and struggle.

Mein phool khilata hoon jab bhi,
Woh baad e khizan le aate hain,
Mein geet sunata hoon jab bhi,
Yeh aag se ji bahlate hain.

Whenever I make a flower blossom
They bring the autumn wind
Whenever I sing a song
They give the soul succour with flame.

But Raza is still hopeful. “There has been a resurgence of resistance poetry in Urdu in the recent past. The trend of religious poetry in Urdu has also reduced in recent times. The youth today has become more involved in this attempt to bring a positive change. I have seen young people reading protest poetry and reacting to it. Once again universities have become a place of resistance and struggle for change.”

Continue Reading

Subscribe to The Kashmir Monitor via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to The Kashmir Monitor and receive notifications of new stories by email.

Join 980,016 other subscribers

Archives

January 2019
M T W T F S S
« Dec    
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031  
Advertisement