Noon Chai – A Sweet Beginning

First published on Samavar.

They say you have a perfect start to the day when you praise the Lord, see the sun rise, hear the birds singing the songs of the morn. But, in Kashmir, something else, inevitable and irreplaceable marks the ideal beginning of the day apart from these.

There is no morning without Noon Chai, there is no afternoon/evening without Noon Chai.

Noon Chai – usually marketed as Green Tea, the name seeming to be a misnomer as we always see it in a Pinkish Red hue – is the special salt tea which we, in Kashmir, have to have, religiously,  twice a day. In the morning, it serves as the breakfast along with Lawaas, Bakerkhaani, Kulcha or a Girda – all different varieties of Kashmiri bakery collectively known as Tsott.

In the afternoons, stretching into evening in the winters, preferably around 4 or 5 the hot steaming Noon Chai serves as a refresher even when temperatures soar upto 34. And if there are some hot and crispy Moinjgool handy, the experience of Noon Chai becomes ever more memorable.

The mystery or, more preferably, the mystique of the Noon Chai amazes me till date. Despite being salty, it is the pre-requisite for the sweetest of starts of any day for Kashmiris.

Noon Chai and Kashmiris have such strong a connection, or should I say Noon Chai is too tasty to ignore, that even pilgrims to Makkah and Madina take along at least some quantity of Noon Chai with them. So much so that students coming back from hostels or from outside Kashmir are first of all asked, “Did you have Noon Chai there?” Having Noon Chai is worth the long wait which precedes, while it is getting prepared, considering that it is preferred over the sweetest of the sweet beverages available at a particular time.

And Samavar! What better thing to prepare Noon Chai than a Samavar! I sometimes wonder the romantic cliché, “made for each other” fits perfectly for the combination of Samavar and Noon Chai, Kehwa being the other claimant to the duet, nevertheless, for a later time to discuss!

The Internet Sabbatical in Kashmir!

It is 2013 in Kashmir and Telegram is a thing of past in India as it is collaborating with Israel to introduce 5G technology; 2G Internet in Kashmir survives at the mercy of a man tweeting from the hills. In, India youth recharge their phones with SMS packs promising a thousand SMSs for 20 odd rupees. In Kashmir, during certain days (sort of Sabbath in biblical terms), people still have to travel some 50 odd miles away from home to check email on someone else’s broadband connection. Those who don’t travel have to reveal their best kept secret – passwords – to friends, cousins or in the worst case scenarios, to a stranger who owns a broadband café, on phone and have a ‘glimpse’ of their mail via phone. I wonder what we would call this. Telemail? Or Telegram again? But the login is not complete yet! In addition to the password, one needs an additional verification code, to be sent preferably on SMS, to have an access to the account. This, because one has been clever enough to have had this 2-step verification On for his account just to take control in situations like these. Yes, that God-forsaken SMS which stands exiled since the time Change was promised last time! So, one has to discontinue the Telemail call and wait for that verification code, kind enough of Google to send it by voice call.

“Abu! I still remember that Telegram which Dadaji had sent from Hajj during his second trip.” It read, “We are all well!” As Aabid put this question as well as the answer on the breakfast dastarkhwaan, his Ammi retorted, “Do you plan to send a similar one when you are abroad?” I don’t know whether Aabid’s mother asked this in sarcasm, with internet services standing shut or she was just being emotional. But it did redirect Aabid’s thoughts to the fact that he was expecting an important mail from the university regarding his arrival there and as well a mail from the embassy regarding his visa. “Now what?”, he thought because in this case he need not just check the mail, which he could do via a phone call, he needed to reply as well. At this moment he would have liked to use the same phrase for India which Aamir’s father in The Kite Runner used for the Russians.

Enforced disappearances and Kashmir have a very interesting relationship. There aren’t many places in the world where the term ‘enforced disappearance’ is used as mainstream as in Kashmir. People who spoke up, whose subversive activities threatened to disturb the law and order were to be silenced, hence the disappearances. Until recently it was limited to the physical disappearance of a person from the scene but now there is an added dimension to it – disappearance from the virtual world. All of a sudden, in the flow of emails, tweets, posts, messages, you disappear – without a trace. You cannot even check whether all the conversations had ended or not. The person at the other end simply has no idea what has become of his messages which are not getting any reply!

The blocking of mobile internet services at will by the state is yet another example of feed-and-choke mechanism of which we have become a regular victim. First we are made so much dependent on a particular commodity or service and then they choke us at will. Be it the supply line of public distribution commodities like rations, LPG, or Petrol or the export line of Kashmir’s horticultural produce both can be choked by a bunch of unscrupulous elements on the warmer side of the Banihal Tunnel anytime. And now mobile internet is the latest casualty. Ever since mobile internet was fully operationalized in Kashmir, in 2008, it has led to a decrease in the wired internet connections and rapid proliferation of mobile internet subscriptions. This, because people naturally opt to be wireless than be connected by a wire. So, now it becomes easy to block access to the majority of internet users.

Talking about the latest internet blockade. When internet services were blocked last time in Kashmir during curfew, they were fully operational in the Jammu region. But this time around, the region under curfew was Jammu and Kashmir became an undue casualty of internet blockade. The reason may as well be technical only but either way this points to the fact that we have been made dependent to such an extent that we don’t even have the freedom of accessing the most basic necessity of life in present day world – after Air, Water & Food – Internet!

14-08-13

Ramadan, Muslims and 'Ramadan Muslims'?

The month of blessing Ramadan is here, among us. It is the third day of Ramadan in Turkey, second day in Middle east, Europe and Americas & it is the first day of Ramadan here, in the Indian sub-continent. But, most importantly it is now Ramadan throughout the world notwithstanding the one or two day difference. And it is a blessing from Allah that we are witnessing yet another Ramadan in our life!

It is a blessed month and we can see that people who are otherwise not so keen about attending the local mosque for the 5 daily prayers step out towards the mosque even before the regular mosque goers do. And it is a fact which i witness in my own neighbourhood, MashaaAllah! There is an overall feeling of piety, righteousness and sobriety. It feels as if we can say Imaan is in the air!

But, one thing, i have seen some people indulging in is the belittling of the efforts of those Muslims who could not participate in the acts of worship in the previous 11 months but are more than keen to do them in this blessed month. So much so that these people call the less-practising ones as 'Ramadan Muslims'. I am talking about the efforts of those Muslims who observe Hijab in this month, attend the mosque regularly, may grow a stubble on their faces, may even don a skull-cap or do whatever they deem to be 'Islamic' in this month. This very title 'Ramadan Muslims', i feel, is pretty derogatory and can have a negative effect on those who try to act upon Islam to the fullest in this month. This may even lead them to forsake the Ibaadah in this month as well.

It is very much possible that Allah accepts these very acts of worship from the 'Ramadan Muslims' and gets pleased with them and accepts them completely bringing about a complete change in their lives. And it is very much possible that the acts of those people who are steadfast throughout the year may not have their deeds even accepted by Allah owing to their cynicism and looking down upon others. It is important to see here that there are two things which contribute towards the evil deeds of a person - Satan and the Nafs (the inner self). And since Satan is not able to intervene in this month, it is clearly evident that these very 'Ramadan Muslims' are more in control of their Nafs than those who criticize them, despise them or look down upon them with cynicism. This is because the qualities of undue criticism, despising and looking down upon others are acts which smack of  a grave spiritual illness!

My whole point of writing these lines is that even if you are the one who attends the mosque regularly everyday at the accorded times, even if you keep the beard, wear the skull-cap, even if you do the Hijab throughout the year, do not look down upon those who try to do the same in this month having let go of these acts in the past year. This because, as they say, "well begun is half done"! What better beginning for righteousness, piety and sobriety than in Ramadan itself!

Wish you a Ramadan full of blessings!

Ambassador Speaketh!

“Every life lost is a tragedy for all. Respects to those killed on Sunday and Monday and condolences to the families.”

“Salaamu alaykum!”

This was the German Ambassador to India Mr. Michael Steiner who was in Kashmir University early today. This is not an official press note or a news report (that you’ll find in tomorrow’s newspapers) but just a collection of few observations from his speech.  I am not even remotely touching any things relevant to the topic of the discussion.

While we was entering (I managed to enter without an Entry Pass even without an Identity Card, Alhamdulillah!), Aarif remarked, “Why are these Angrez always smiling in their potraits?” referring to the photograph of the ambassador on the wall hanging! I replied, “Because we do the opposite”!

I was expecting that he would start with Namaste (as foreign dignitaries do in India) or Salaam (a special case for Kashmir) and he did. But that condolence to the families of those killed on ‘Sunday and Monday’ was particularly surprising to me at least. In the convocation complex of the institute which is remote controlled from Delhi (I guess or from Raj Bhavan) such a politically inconvenient utterance (for the State) from the highest ranking official of a foreign country was pretty much surprising to me.

Before his speech, it was the Vice Chancellor of KU Talat Ahmad who introduced the German Ambassador to the jam-packed audience. While he was mentioning the various achievements and previous postings of the Ambassador, once he mentioned that Mr. Steiner has been a special envoy to Afghanistan-Pakistan region in the past, this particular mention was met with a thunderous applause from the 3000 strong convocation hall. It was as if this was happening in Pakistan, not in India! Nevertheless, the love for other-than-India in the cream of the Kashmiri youth was visible and manifest!

So, after he was done with the initial introductory notes, Mr.Steiner again surprised by saying, “Khush aamdeed, saeni tarf’e”.  He is a good fellow and we saw that. He even greeted the toughest questions with a smile!

But one thing which was heartening to hear throughout his speech was that he always talked about, “Germany, India and Kashmir”. This was what made me happy.

“Dil ke khush rakhne ko, ye khayaal achchaa hai!”

Amarnath: How the state manufactures fear!

Pahalgam and Sonamarg areas of the Kashmir valley have been declared out of bounds for school excursions “In view of the ensuing Amarnath Yatra”. The timing of the ban imposed by school education department of Kashmir on school picnics to Pahalgam and Sonamarg is quite interesting. The ban comes in the backdrop of the warning of the Indian army about a possible militant attack on the yatra. While as the warning runs contrary to the tall claims of the security establishment in Kashmir that militancy has been, more or less eliminated, but it does serve the purpose of the state to manufacture fear and impose a sense of uncertainity among the people.

One of the important visible aims is to create fear psychosis among the natives as well as the yatris. This manufactured fear is aimed to give legitimacy to the presence of security forces across the length and breadth of Kashmir.  And as a result, all the debates regarding the repeal or partial withdrawal of draconian laws like AFSPA, Disturbed Area Act and Public Safety Act are stealthily laid to rest without much opposition. And the laws continue to be there. The yatra also means that Kashmiri policemen are coerced to be at the disposal of the pilgrims for two months. That their posting is coercive was evidenced by the recent hunger strike and protest by new recruits of the JKP undergoing training at the Ganderbal police training centre. The manufacture of threat is not a new thing in Kashmir. Back in 2012, a cooking gas cylinder blast in a vehicle carrying some tourists, in Islamabad, was initially reported as an grenade attack on yatris in the Indian national media. Similarly, when militants attacked a CRPF camp early this year in Bemina, one of the Indian TV channels went to the extent of falsely reporting it as an attack on a school run by the JK Police and further declared that 5 students died in the attack while as in reality the school was closed on that day and there were no civilian casualties.

One more aspect of this perceived threat is that it reaffirms the Islamic Extremism rhetoric which is often used to downplay the struggle of Kashmiris. It has been a convenient way all along to malign the Kashmiri struggle as being communal and this particular Hindu pilgrimage provides an opportunity for the state to turn the tide in favour of its own narrative. And we know, branding it as Islamic Extremism is the easiest way to turn any struggle of Muslims in any part of the world illegitimate. And Islamic Extremism having with its different shades and different definitions in different parts of the world, when linked with Kashmir, makes it easy for the world to forget the various human rights violations being meted out to Kashmiris on one pretext or the other.

Keeping in view the fact that this threat perception was well received by the central government notwithstanding the clear rejection at the state government level, a political angle cannot be avoided with general elections due next year. Congress may want to turn the tide completely in its favour eyeing the religious Hindu vote base, as if acting as the saviour of the beliefs of majority Hindu community given that Army has already invoked ‘Operation Shiva’ to ‘sanitize the hills around the route’! Furthermore, this decision as well points to the incompetence and irrelevance of the state government and that fact that the it is just an extension of the central government of India. It is just an instrument or interface between the decision maker (central government) and the executing body that is the army. The fact that there was no mention of any militant attack threat in the recent meeting of the Unified Headquarters headed by J&K Chief Minister makes it amply clear that this threat perception has been conceived at the centre only.

It is interesting to note here that even during the peak of the 2008 popular uprising which was sparked off by an issue related to the same Amarnath yatra, the yatra went off peacefully without any harm done to a single pilgrim. This leads to the conclusion that the only visible threat to peace is the state itself.

- - -

This write-up first appeared on PKKH.

Journey of Faith

It was always from books in school, posters and picture frames hung in the drawing rooms and paintings available for sale outside mosques and more recently facebook pictures that I had known about and experienced Makkah and Madina. And as they say, it is the lucky ones who get to see, experience and live these places in reality.

So, here I was – King Abdul Azeez International Airport, Jeddah. While the airplane was moving on the tarmac after landing, I could see the first glimpses of the land, minarets of beautiful mosques interspersed with a few date trees and the desert soil. The immigration check is a bit tedious particularly for people from the Indian sub-continent. Once through the immigration, we are on the way to Makkah a 50 minutes’ drive from Jeddah.  The introduction I had with the driver, a Pakistani, would turn out to be the standard for the rest of the days in the Kingdom. When you reply, “Kashmir” after being asked, “Kahan se ho bhai?”, he is quick to add, “Azad Kashmir or Jammu Kashmir”!

After reaching Makkah at 90 minutes past midnight one would expect to see pretty less number of pilgrims in the Haram than during the day doing Tawaf of the Ka’aba and Saee between Safa and Marwah. But, the activity in the Haram never stops or even appears to slow down. It is a cliché but true that one can hardly differentiate between day and night in Masjid Haram because of the continuous rush of pilgrims throughout the 24 hours,  if not for the temperature – soaring during the day and somewhat soothing during the night. 

While doing the obligatory acts of worship which comprise Umrah various realisations dawn upon the person. It is amazing how God preserved the noble acts of Prophets and their family members for the times to come so much so that they are obligatory upon people performing pilgrimage. As an example, during the Saee of Safa-Marwah, men have to walk briskly/run for a certain distance designated by green lights an this is in honour of the act of running of Hagar, the wife of Prophet Abraham, when she was looking for water for herself and her son Ismael. As I observed, it looks like as if a marathon gets started as soon as as men approach the green light. But, it is all in honour of the travails of a mother for her son, for the community, for the believers to come – as it was only through her that God blessed us with Zam-Zam.

And, with the completion of seven runs between Mount Safa and Mount Marwah followed by the compulsory hair-cut, having completed the seven circumbulations around the Ka’abah, the act of Umrah is completed. And the restrictions of the state of Ihram also end and people can afterwards do as much Tawaaf and other optional/recommended acts of worship as per conviction, convenience.

During the subsequent acts of Tawaaf , it was an inspiring experience to walk along people from all over the wolrd – Turks, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sudanese, Indonesians, Iranians and others at the same time, all praising God with the same words – some individually, some in groups. Some Turks were really fast in completing the Tawaaf and one fine afternoon I took up the challenge and completed Tawaaf – seven circumbulations around Ka’abah – in just fifteen minutes, in the meantime beating even the Turks! And the time when the crescent at the top of the clock tower overlooking Masjid Haram turned green it signalled the time for Azaan. At this particular time the haram police, conspicuous by only their Khaki (without any weapons or even any sticks) gears into action and goads the pilgrims to row up for prayers. The clock tower and hence its green crescent is visible from as far as Mina (and probably Arafat as well) and hence serves as an important indicator for prayer times apart from accommodating a huge number of pilgrims.

The 6 hours journey Northwards by bus from Makkah to Madina is as physically exhausting an experience as is enriching spiritually. Almost 80 per cent of the track is characterised by rocky desert on both sides. The endless desert on either side of the highway gives us an idea about how it would have been like when the Prophet himself undertook the journey. It took the Prophet around two weeks to cover the entire distance which included three days spent in the cave of Sawr, on the outskirts of Makkah. And at that time, there were no Pakistani restaurants along the highway to have lunch, there wasn’t even a highway for that matter, no Red Crescent health centres along the way. Hence a person travelling from Makkah to Madina definitely gets at least some idea about the history, about the hardships undertaken by the Prophet and the accompanying sacrifices made by the companions of the Prophet for the cause ordained by God.

Upon reaching Madina, one can see difference in various aspects. Apart from the demography of the pilgrims – in Madina majority of them are from the Indian sub-continent, Turkey and Iran – the other important aspect include the provision of separate prayer areas for women as well as separate timings for doing the optional/recommended acts of worship inside the Masjid Nabawi. In those times males are not allowed in those specific areas of the mosque and the Haram policemen, who are otherwise busy on Whatsapp on their Samsung phones, have a pretty hard time keeping control. The other thing; this being the resting place of the person considered by us to be the greatest ever to have lived, this place becomes an epitome of reverence!

At last it is not just yet another trip across the Arabian sea, flying over Pakistan, Iran and UAE and finally landing in Saudi Arabia to be recorded in our travel history. But it is a trip to two of the three holiest places in Islam, the other being Masjid al-Aqsa in Jerusalem, which have been mentioned in the Quran by the Lord. It is a spiritual experience which leads to an overall change in the thinking, behaviour and outlook of a person, who seeks such a thing!

NH1A

He did not board a bus, the distance was pretty short to board one. Pushing the rolling empty gas cylinder down the dusty pathway on the sidelines of the national highway – NH1A, with the gentle pushes of his feet, he was singing a song somewhat like, "rain rain come along, I just want to sing a song!". It was winter and the gas outlet had run out of supplies. At 9:30 in the morning, the winter sun was yet to shine and Aarif was witnessing the long cavalcade of the yellow colored Islamic University buses, going probably for their final exams for the year. This was a sight he witnessed every day idling at his uncle's kiryana shop near Pampore.

The morning rush hour at play,the triple laning of the two lane highway, by the over-eager drivers, had set in. During this time ambulances, school buses, staff buses, passenger buses or private cars move at the same pace – that of a snail! It always takes, not a policeman, but a convoy of army to set the things back in order.

Here they are! The long convoy of army vehicles, with Jabalpur Vehicle Factory inscribed at the front, coming down all the way from the Khrew cantonment, located on the slopes of Bathen – a picturesque mount located a few miles south-east of Srinagar, has begun to descend on the highway. The cantonment having rendered the peaks out of bounds for any trekking enthusiasts can well be cherished by those interested in shooting – the cantonment has a big shooting range and you can hear bullets all day – one could well confuse it with an encounter! Having passed down the road on both sides of which, as Beacon declared, 'world's best Saffron grows' they now join the jam charades on NH1A. The statutory man at the top of the army vehicle begins to wave the long bamboo stick at the civilian vehicles stuck in jam to make way for the imposing army and everyone, even an ambulance, has to oblige.

Just when Aarif's phone beeped he took it out and checked if he had received an SMS after ages. There wasn't any! In the meanwhile, the overtaking army vehicle was honking the horn behind him and in the melee; he pushed the cylinder the wrong way – onto the highway. Screeeech….the army driver applied the brakes and down came the brave!

~~~

"Why did you not retaliate? You could atleast have said something in defence. It was them who were overtaking the wrong way, driving in the rough, on the path meant for the pedestrains", asked Aarif's friend.

"Don't you know about AFSPA?", replied Aarif, nursing injuries!

They are alive!

May i share with you a story of a Shaheed!
Promise that you'll be all ears and pay heed!
It is a story of a Martyr!
from the killing fields of Kashmir!
He achieved martyrdom,
and was buried without a family!
A few weeks later,
some people heard,
people of a far off village,
that a person had been martyred!
They descended on the village,
where the martyr lay buried,
They asked to let them see him,
so it was ordered He be exhumed!
The pitched a tent around the grave,
when the police arrived.
Around the grave of the martyr,
the grave to be exhumed!
The policemen wore around masks,
covered their nose to avoid the stink.
Expecting the corpse to have decomposed,
to smell, to stink!
But, as soon as the grave was opened,
the men around were shocked!
The Martyr's body was as fresh,
the hairs of him unruffled!
The blood of the martyr was still there,
on the clothes which he had worn.
The martyr was alive (with Allah),
he was happy and not forlorn!

Kashmir: Airborne Photography

I wouldn't have uploaded these anywhere but the following news item made it, somewhat, obligatory! :)

Author Basharat Peer Stopped, Freed At Srinagar Airport

Curfewed Night author Basharat Peer and Contributing Editor of the Caravan magazine was stopped at Srinagar airport by police. He was on his way home from Delhi and was soon asked by airport police not to move out.

Basharat Peer told KL that he clicked a couple of photographs of the fascinating clouds somewhere between Jammu and Banihal. A co-passenger, who identified himself as a cop objected to it saying it compromises ‘national security’. It triggered an argument mid-air.

After the aircraft landed, unidentified co-passenger complained to the airport police. Peer was stopped for nearly half an hour. However, after the cops and airlines authorities saw the pictures that were shot by Peer midair, they said there was nothing objectionable and they allowed him to go home.

Photography on the airports is banned by law. But there is no such bar on photography midair.

The co-passenger was identified as P S Sandhu, an IGP in BSF, who was also flying to Srinagar in the Indigo aircraft.

The following are some, what we can call them, Peer'esque clicks!

Empathy! | that the dawn is near

was it a terrible nightmare,
or just a bad dream caught me in a snare,
or just a vision gave me quite a scare?

that when i walk along the road,
the oft travelled, the much loved road,
i feel a sense of loneliness spread manifold!

like the wildfire that spreads from peak to peak,
without a word said, leaving nothing about it to speak
the wilderness along the road, i want to cry and shriek!

does that person on the road, with a gun,
who seems to be forlorn, fate having had him spun and spun.
does he not have a family to have with them jest and fun?

does he not have a young boy at his home,
with whom he loves to play, his love for him an epitome.
does he not feel the boy he just shot dead, the sadness at his home?

does he not have a wife to look at, a home to long for,
when he is on a mission, ready to get killed and kill for.
does he not feel the widow whose loved one disappeared, with no crime to pay for?

all along the road, the wilderness instills in me, a fear,
i fear for me, myself and all others far and near.
will ever anybody say, declare with empathy, that the dawn is near?

Different Strokes - I

The trophy would be a 2 rupee coin or two coins of 1 rupee, each contributed by the two teams. The venue – around the walnut trees along the banks of Romush, a tributary of Jehlum. The stumps – twigs from the nearby poplar or willow trees – three on the batting end and bowling one (or none) on the bowling end. For that matter we would never change sides at the end of overs. The balls – green, yellow, red or white plastic balls which we would call as ‘tennis’ ball. The red one was preferred as it was easy to find it out if ever it went into the bushes. And the name, brand of these ‘tennis’ balls was, usually, SKumar and this name was as preferred as SG or Kookaburra  in international cricket. For practice purposes we would, sometimes, use a stuffed ball - moaz ball - made up of old shreds of cloth stuffed into a sock! Yes, the sock was washed before being put into use, I guess! The seniors would tell me that if I could play the moaz ball well I could well play the leather ball. We used to get the leather ball – for ‘leather ball matches’ – from the village ‘A-team’ after they had played a couple of matches with that. We would play matches with the same ball for the whole season or until the seam of the ball ripped apart!

There would be a list of clauses which had to be verbally signed by the two teams before the toss – the toss in which no coins were tossed but a bat was, the choice being sadak & pahad instead of head and tail. The clauses included – whether or not ‘wides’ would be counted in the score, if a stumping would count as a wicket or not, who takes responsibility if the ball gets lost or rips apart during the play, what if a shot got intercepted by a branch or trunk of a walnut tree, whether or not the batsman would be deemed out if he hit the ball into a neighbour’s courtyard and who, in such a case, would have to make up the courage to bring the ball back!

All clauses signed, the match would begin. No scoreboards, for that matter no scorebooks, not even a piece of paper to jot down the runs! Both the teams would keep track of the score on their own and in case of any conflict, the players would have to give hisaab – details of every ball bowled – as if it was the judgement day! //…then there was a wide, then a single, then a four, then a dot ball, then a single; but he didn’t complete the single on the last ball; oh sorry! I’ll deduct that run// Run-outs would be the most controversial ones and more often than not the umpire would straight away rule a batsman not out (the umpire was always from the batting side!). The batsman on his part would show the mark of his bat’s landing in the crease as proof enough that he was ‘in’ when the ball hit the stumps (or the clay brick substituted for stumps, at the non-strikers end)! There were rarely any bails on the stumps and sometimes the ball would go in between two stumps without even disturbing the stumps – again controversial!

If the batsman ever hit the ball into the Romush and if it was agreed upon that it won’t count as ‘out’,  he would get 6 runs and start heaping praises upon….not himself but upon Shahid Afridi! “This is Afridi playing, mate!”, would be a typical brag (sic). I personally would never say such a thing. Partly because I would never hit such big shots – I was more like Dravid (and people would call me so!) being content with not-so-big shots, partly because I believed in being myself (without attributing my shots to any other player) and partly (or should I say hugely) because I was an ‘Indian’ and I could not say, “This is Jadeja playing ,mate!” lest I make a laughing stock of myself among all others who were (and are ‘Pakistanis’)! The bowlers had their own patrons – Shoaib Akhtar for example.

At times when we would play with the leather ball – the rugged one which we got from the village ‘A-team’ – it would be much more engaging. It was as if we were graduating from domestic cricket to international cricket. This is where the classification of bats would set in – there would be a ‘leather ball bat’ and a ‘tennis ball bat’! Common sense would dictate that we could play the tennis ball with a ‘leather ball bat’ as a tennis ball was way lighter than a leather ball. But there were strict instructions from the team management that the ‘leather ball bat’ should never be used to play the tennis ball. The stated reason – the bat may lose its stroke! Stroke – it was defined as a quality which only a few experienced players could analyse. If a batsman would middle a shot perfectly and despatch it beyond the boundary or into the Romush or onto the neighbour’s iron sheeted roof he would declare, “This bat has got a very good stroke!” The same thing – stroke – would fit perfectly as an excuse for those who failed with the bat!

To be concluded

Count your blessings! Keyboard version!

When i was a kid we used to sing a prayer, yes sing a prayer, and it went like, "Count your blessings, name them one by one!" I think it was just singing because we never really bothered to actually count those blessing not to speak of naming them one by one!

Now, a decade after i last sang that prayer i was just contemplating how many blessings from God - Allah - do we just ignore and what is worse we don't even consider some of these as blessings at all - freebies from God we describe them as, at best!


Now, coming back to the counting thing, let us actually start counting. I know we would stop at some time. Pens would run out of ink, the springs underneath keyboards' keys would lose their elastic property, the capacitive touchscreens of our smartphones would turn ultra-resistive but the counting wont stop.

Anyways, let us give it a try. Here we go. I'll write 'Alhamdulillah for.....' meaning 'All praises be to The God for......' instead of 'Thank God for......'.

Let us start with the basic thing - Air, yes the air in the troposphere!

Alhamdulillah for the air around us!
Alhamdulillah for the Oxygen in the air!
Alhamdulillah for the definite proportion of Oxygen in the air!
Alhamdulillah for not allowing the Oxygen in the air to convert into Ozone!
Alhamdulillah for our nasal system which acts as the first filter for incoming air!
Alhamdulillah for our nasal system which regulates the temperature of the incoming air!
Alhamdulillah for the separate wind pipe and the food pipe!
Alhamdulillah for the selective opening of the wind pipe thus not allowing food to get into the lungs!

I know i'm missing a lot of things along the way! Biologists don't need to worry! ;)

Alhamdulillah for the presence of Haemoglobin in our blood!
Alhamdulillah for the presence of Ferrous group in the Hb in blood!
Alhamdulillah for the structure of the Hb molecule which increases its selective affinity to Oxygen!

And this is a wow moment! While as Hb of the blood picks up Oxygen from the respiratory organs but when it reaches the peripheries of the body which are in need of Oxygen, it releases the Oxygen. And here, its affinity for Carbon Dioxide increases and it picks up the Carbon dioxide and delivers it back to be ultimately breathed out. Isn't this amazing how Allah modifies the affinity of Hb in various parts of the body to take up Oxygen at one place and take up Carbon dioxide at the other place, in the same body. SubhaanAllah (How pure is The God from imperfections)!

I have studied Zoology at the pre college level and i can clearly and confidently say that i am missing a lot of steps here.

Alhamdulillah for the partitions in the human heart!
Alhamdulillah for the separation of the oxygenated and the deoxygenated blood in the heart!

I guess i can go on and on and on writing, typing zillions more lines starting with 'Alhamdulillah for......' but i don't want to replace the keyboard of my laptop, if ever a replacement is possible, as of now!

Some more, regarding the freebies!

Alhamdulillah for the running water.
Alhamdulillah for the electricity (albeit not 24 hrs ;)).
Alhamdulillah for the food we eat.
Alhamdulillah for facebook, twitter, yahoo, google....Internet (with due thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page et al)

That was it, go on counting!


P.S: Not to be concluded! :D

Maktub - It is written!

With eyes set on the Zabarwan, Reyaz spotted that hot air balloon. Having been tempted to start the cross Dal sojourn from the Hazratbal Dargah just after the muezzin finished the call for prayer, to avoid losing customers, he felt a sort of guilt for not being able to join the congregational prayers. He would pray later after doing ablutions with the Dal water - which he doubted makes anyone pure or more impure! But, he had a family to feed!

Propelling the Shikara forward and ferrying tourists was the only means, nevertheless strenous, to earn a living - for himself, his wife who hadn't borne any children and his ailing mother who never approved of Zubeida - Reyaz's wife. For Reyaz, the life of the drivers of the Italian dredging machines and of the owners of the hot air balloon, was tempting as well as qaabil e rashq. They never have to exert much, work hard or/and haggle for the hundred odd rupees needed for the early morning lawasas, half kg Khyber milk packet and the vegetables for dinner. Besides, they can pray all the five prayers on their respective times.

He was lost in his thoughts - thinking about the ease of living that his contemporaries enjoyed - when the Shikara came to a halt, striking the concrete stepway near Centaur.

He sighed and said, "It is written!"

P.S. : Reyaz is illiterate & has never read 'The Alchemist'!

Cricket and Conflict!

Apart from having identical letters of the English alphabet at the beginning and the end, Cricket and Conflict have a lot in common. Or should I say they have had a very interesting relationship, here in Kashmir. We use almost identical terms for a cricket match and for a conflict situation. A batsman runs himself out while as a Surakhsa karmi runs out of ammunition. Others terms include fightback (by a losing side), encounter (between two teams), victim (of a bowler or a bullet/pellet/pepper gas), boundary (of a country or a stadium), score (of the runs or the injured), follow on (of the innings or of the ‘story’ by media). Owing to this interrelated lingo, I sometimes get confused whether I am reading the sports page or the front page of the newspaper. And I wonder, is it the ‘conflictisation’ of cricket or the ‘cricketisation’ of the conflict? I’ll go for the later!

All through my life, I have been watching boys (and men) play cricket on link roads and the inter-district roads throughout Kashmir on the conflict days. And conflict days are those when people wear the conflict on their sleeves rather than keeping it in their hearts – the days of Curfew, Hartals and other related ingredients of the conflict! So much so that a friend of mine wonders, “given the frequency of hartals and curfews in Kashmir it should have produced a lot of world class cricketers by now!” True that because when we play cricket on a metalled road (or that with potholes!) we can learn cricket better than anyone else. Such a ‘pitch’ has all those ingredients which usually pose a problem to Indian cricketers/players. Their batsmen can’t score on hard and bouncy surface. Their bowlers can’t take wickets on such surfaces. So, such ‘pitches’ or roads do qualify as a moment to think over, for the Indian ‘team’ – be it a cricket match at the WACA pitch in Australia or one of those pitched battles in the by lanes of Kashmir! 

Usually, it is a cricket match which decides which way of the conflict you stand, in Kashmir. As it happened, a goodwill General sensed the nabz of Kashmiris right and came up with an idea.  This goodwill army man delved on the idea of Premier Leauge-ising the Kashmiri Cricket. Hence, the Kashmir Cricket League was born. As a result this goodwill General, who happened to have a well receptive Muslim name, was seen more in Cricket grounds, cultural programs and flagging off wattan ki saer programs than in war room meetings!  It was supposed to be an attempt to bring the Kashmiri youth to the ‘mainstream’ – as if they were flowing in some wrong stream of Jehlum (towards Pakistan?)! It was an attempt to take the youth off the roads – where they were either engaged in cricket or stone-bullet (or stone-pellet) chor-police! Well, it did have a good result – Parvez Rasool, who played for the Anantnag Arsenals in the Kashmir Premier League went on to play for India A, BCCI President’s XI and also played alongside Yuvraj Singh for North Zone in Deodhar Trophy. And according to some ‘sources’ he may be ‘fast-tracked’ into the Indian team! This – apparently to cricketise the loci standi of the youth about the conflict!

But, there are always some repercussions to devious ideas. Only recently there was a ‘fightback’ from the apparently losing side – they claimed 5 wickets in quick succession before valiantly running themselves out! They even had a hashtag on twitter for this fightback - #KashmirFightsBack – as if it really were a test match going on.  Hence, television diarrhoeics like Goswami were forced to follow on (on the story!). As I said Cricket and Conflict have a very interesting relationship here.

Now, the goodwill Generals may well be ruing the fact that they inculcated the spirit of cricket in the jawans (jawans = youth, or otherwise!) so much so that they see a cricketer in everyone with a kit bag and a track-suit. In the process they even forget to save their own wickets!

Or, who knows, maybe they are staring at an innings defeat!

This write-up first appeared in the March 19 2013 edition of Kashmir Reader.

Kab waqt hamara woh aayega... | Urdu

Kab waqt hamara woh aayega, 
Jab takht giraye'n jayenge! 

Jab rang laye lahu shaheedoo'n ka, 
Jab qubool ho aahe'n maoo'n ki! 

Jab satta ke galiyaroo'n se boo aaye insaaf ki, 
Jab Hakim ke darbaar se loogu'n ko insaaf mile! 

Jab maaoo'n ko insaaf miley, 
Jab behnoo'n ko izzat miley! 

Jab bevaoo'n ko hum-dilli mile, 
Jab yateemoo'n ko shafqat mile! 

Jab kisi ke naam par na ho kahein par khoon-rezi, 
Jab kisi ke khoon ka na ho koi insaan pyasaa! 

Kab waqt hamara woh aayega, 
Jab takht giraye'n jayenge!

Courage it takes...

Courage it takes to live under oppression,

Courage it takes to live under occupation,

Courage it takes to stand against tyranny,

Courage it takes to stand for the oppressed,

Courage it takes to see the funeral of a son,

Courage it takes to see the cold gleam of a father,

Courage it takes to attend the funeral without a tear,

Courage it takes to say, "My son is a blessed martyr",

Courage it takes to bear the tears of a mother,

Courage it takes to bear the sobs of a sister,

Courage it takes to get killed without a word being told,

Courage it takes to see injustice, but still with a hope,

Courage it takes to even see in the eyes of the martyrs,

Courage it will take to even remember the martyrs!

"Aes te tcha Zaelim?" - Are we too, oppressors?

It is one of those rare Fridays when nothing bloody happened in Pakistan, only a few people died in Syria (not enough to get 'featured' in news) and none of the newspapers published anything about the continuing plight of the Rohingya!

Irfan and Faizan have just deboarded the school bus and are strolling back to their respective home a few metres away from the bus-stop! As they pass by the Martyr's graveyard;

Irfan: "How many graves are there in Shaheed Mazaar?".

Faizan: "I dont know but two graves are empty! We are getting late for Jumah Namaaz!"

Faizan: "We have a cricket match at 3 O'clock. I'll meet you after Namaaz. When do you complete it, ours gets completed by 2:30".

Irfan: "I'll be back from Imambara by then! I'll meet you at the ground!"

Nowhatta Greens Vs Rainawari Stars

Rainawari Stars win the toss and elect to bat first. They go on to score 134 for the loss of 5 wickets in 20 overs.

Nowhatta Greens need 135 to win. Faizan will write down the score on that SS Scorebook with his Reynoldspen. The batting order has already been written, on the scorebook. Mohammad Irfan will come in at No. 7 and Faizan Ali, being an allrounder, will follow in at No. 8. Faizan stations himself at the square leg position near the umpire and scribbles the runs on the scorebook. Irfan sits besides Faizan amid a lowly protest by the players of the Rainawari Stars  who insist that the Scorer  should sit there alone!

Five overs have passed and Rainawari Stars players ask for the scores. Faizan announces, "27 for 2"!

Faizan: "Do you know? It is Pulwama Chalo on Monday."

Irfan: "I know. These oppressors have killed another young man!"

Faizan: "Yem che saeeri Zaelim!" (They are all oppressors!)

Irfan: "Khudai karin Raham!" (May Allah have mercy!)

Faizan: "Irfan, Do you know? Pakistan won the T-20 match vs South Africa! Hafeez scored 92 runs before getting run-out!"

Irfan: "I dont get to watch cricket these days, at home. Abu always watches Geo News, Al Jazeera, Press TV. I couldn't even watch the WWE Royal Rumble on Thursday!"

Faizan: "Natte kus chu wutchaan. Be chus wutchaan score espncricinfo peath!" (You think i watched the whole match? I check the scores from Cricinfo only!)

Irfan: "So, you too are fed up with the news, like me? Somewhere, it is the genocide of one community and somewhere else, it is of the other!"

Faizan: "God knows what is in store. Every Friday we have to see news from Pakistan with ever increasing numbers of killings."

Irfan: "And then there is war in Syria as well. People are dying in thousands there!"

Faizan: "Preth kunni jai che sirf Musalmaan maraan! Khabar yem Zaelim koune maraan kanh?" (Everywhere it is Muslims who are getting killed. Why doesn't anyone among the oppressors die?)

Irfan: "Aes te tchi  naa Zaelim! Yemis ne insaan sund aar yeyi temis wanov zaelimie" (We are oppressors too! One who has no compassion for fellow human being IS an oppressor!)

Faizan: "Aes te tcha Zaelim?" (Are we too, oppressors?)

Down and Dusted - HOPE!

Irfan: "Faizan! We require 76 to win in just 10 overs. It is very difficult!"

Faizan: "Get your pads on. We just need to understand each other while batting and running between the wickets. See how we lost 2 quick wickets to run-outs only due misunderstanding."

Irfan: "You are right. We just need a partnership to win."

Faizan comes to the crease with Greens still needing 56 to win from 7 overs, with 6 wickets down. Armed with his BSM bat which he has bought last spring from Sangam, he walks upto Irfan at the non-strikers end and says, "We shall overcome. We just need a partnership! We just need to understand each other. We just need to tolerate the mistakes and correct each other in a sensible way!"

"After 19 overs, Nowhatta Greens are 128 for the loss of six wickets. Mohammad Irfan is on strike, playing on 29 and Faizan Ali is batting on 24", the scorer announces.

Irfan misses the first two balls and takes a single on the 3rd ball.

Faizan hits a six on the 4th ball and the Greens win, with Mohammad Irfan and Faizan Ali contributing 30 runs each.

Picture © Getty Images
P.S: Isn't a game of cricket a lesson for us. Isn't tolerance and mutual understanding need of the hour? Can't we just consider each other as humans, if not anything else? Or do we waste the whole life killing each other while as the enemies make partnerships to win over us!

“We live in a wrong place”

“Uncle, I have deactivated both my accounts, Facebook as well as Twitter!”, said Tassaduq to his uncle on phone. This was after he was told by his parents and uncle not to indulge too much in discussions on social networks, these days! Tassaduq wasn’t sad as, in any case, he won’t be using it for the next few days as internet access is blocked. Well, he had called his two friends to deactivate his two accounts!

“Beta! We live in a wrong place”, lamented his uncle. “We all know what is happening isn’t justice but what, at all, can we do? Our generation has seen it all for the past 40 years!”

“Even Basharat Saeb, your youngest Uncle, despite being a Police Officer  felt restless when he heard the news, on phone, at midnight that police had been deputed all over the valley! He too feels his pain and said that it was grave injustice. But what, at all, can he do? We are all in solidarity with the family.”, adds his mother!

************

Tassaduq was very fond of reading and writing Op-Eds for newspapers. It had been five days since he had read one. Earlier, his newspaper vendor would never accede to his demand of fetching him a National newspaper as he was the only one to demand so — the newspaper vendors fetch a particular newspaper only when there are at least 10 sure shot buyers! As a result, he would view the internet version of the National newspapers. It had been five days since he had read an Op-Ed in a National newspaper!

So here it was, his 8 year old cousin came to his room with a newspaper in hand. “Where did it come from? Who brought it in curfew?”, Tassaduq asked his cousin. He replied, “I don’t know who brought it here but tell me the Kashmiri translation of the news written on the newspaper!" He added, “  heard at the Kandurwaan (bakery) that one another man has been hanged after Afzal Gooer”! (A rumour it was!) Yes, he didn’t say ‘Guru’; not because he was being obedient to Baba Ramdev who said "calling him 'Guru' is an insult to real gurus and saints"! But it is a commonplace farce in our society that we can’t even pronounce the names of those whom we consider heroes, properly. The other day, it was a Hurriyat man in the Mosque who repeatedly said “Afzal Gooer” while extolling his sacrifice from the pulpit.

************

Aamir is an orphan who lost his father in the heydays of the Armed Struggle in the late nineties. Practically, with no source of income apart from the Aanganwadi center which is housed in their shanty single story house, his family barely makes ends meet. He passed the Secondary School Examination, recently, with Distinction and enrolled in a coaching institute for Pre-Medical coaching. It has been a week since he last attended his classes at the coaching institute. And yes, they don’t pay back for any missed classes!

Tassaduq always keeps asking him about studies, advising & guiding him when necessary. In fact, it was on his advice only that Aamir enrolled in a local coaching institute than going to Srinagar for coaching. This time when Tassaduq asked Aamir about studies, he replied, “It has been a week now and there isn’t any surety when will the classes resume. If you could tutor me in Physics for some days, rest I’ll do myself!” And thus started Tassaduq’s teaching career!

************

The situation in cities and in villages is a case of distinct contrast these days. People in cities virtually live under Z-security cover with a policeman or two allotted to each gate. The only difference between a politician with Z-security and the common man, here, is that the latter can't venture out of his home! On the other hand people in villages, except that they can’t visit the main town market, seem to see very less difference. The elderly sit by the roadside discussing vague issues apart from lamenting the fate of 'that poor fellow who lost his youth in jail'!

Boys play cricket on the deserted link roads and keep some space on the side for that one-off car that may pass by.When that one-off car/lorry approaches, the cricket match doesn’t stop! Boys keep playing & sometimes play with death too, when there is a mismatch; with balls (read Stones) on one side and bazookas on the other. The match doesn’t stop and the sentiment doesn’t stop. The sentiment doesn’t stop and the resistance doesn’t stop. Resistance never stops and injustice never seems to stop, sadly!

************

Meanwhile, Tassaduq accidentally clicked on the Twitter bookmark in the Speed-dial of his web browser while he was checking availability of hall-ticket for his exam as soon as Internet was restored! As a result he was back on Twitter, albeit accidentally.

He now tweets under a pseudonym!

************

P.S: All the characters are fictional but the narrative is factual!