Same pattern inside the pavilion at Shalimar Garden built in 1619 on order of Jahangir
In 1623, Noor Jahan built a Masjid in Srinagar on the left bank of Jhelum near Zaina Kadal opposite Shah Hamdan mosque.
Kashmiri had a belief that Noor Jahan belonged to the valley. Godfrey Thomas Vigne, in 1835, writes:
“Nur Jehan Begum (the light of the world), the Nur Muhul (the light of the palace) of Lallah Rookh, is the most renowned name in the valley, that of her august consort, Jehan Gir, not excepted. In spite of the more authentic story of her birth which is to be found in Ferishta, the Kashmirians would have us believe that she was a native of the valley: a daughter of the Malek of Chodra, a large ruined village in the centre of the centre of the southern side of the valley, and situated on the Dud Gunga (milk river). The only fact that that I heard that I heard of, that could be any possibility be brought forward in support of this assertion is, that near Chodra there are some ruins, said to be those of a house that once belonged to her; but in which there is nothing in any way remarkable. I have already oticed the palaced at Vernag and Shahbad, which were built by here or her husband. The Musjid, or new mosque, in the city, was built by her, and is, in fact, the only edifice of the kind that can vie in general aspect and finish with the splendour of the Moti Musjid, or the pearl mosque, at Agra. A handsome flight of stone steps leads from river to the door of the courtyard, which surrounds it. The interior of the building is about sixty-four yards in length, and of a proportionate width, the roof being supported by two rows of massive square piers, running through the entire length of the building, the circular compartments between them being handsomely ribbed and vaulted. When I was in Kashmir it was used as a granary or storehouse for rice.”
Unlike other Masjids in Kashmir that were made of wood, this, this masjid was made of stone or Pathar, and hence came to be known as Pathar Masjid. And unlike the native Kashmiri mosques, it didn’t have a pyramidical dome at top.
The story goes that on completion of the Mosque, a Mulla asked Nur Jahan how much did it cost her. It is said that in her response the Shia Empress of India pointed to her shoe or Jooti. Mulla in response is said to have decreed the Masjiid unfit for praying. So goes the story of a building that in Sikh era was used as a granary. It is said the mosque originally had a dome that was demolished by a Sikh era governor.
A description of the mosque is given by Ram Chandra Kak in his ‘Ancient Monuments of Kashmir’ (1933):
The half-attached “bedpost” columns in the two outer angles of the jambs of the entrance are noteworthy. The plinth, which is now mostly underground, is surmounted by a lotus-leaf coping.
The frieze between the projecting cornice and the eaves is decorated with a series of large lotus leaves, carved in relief, some of which have been pierced, and thus made to serve the purpose of ventilation apertures. A flight of steps in each jamb of the entrance gives access to the roof, which is, as usual in Kashmir, sloping, except in the centre, where there was originally a dome which was later dismantled by the Sikhs. The roof consists of twenty-seven domes, the central one of which is the largest. The domes are mostly ribbed inside, though there are some which are flat or waggon-vaulted.
The roof is supported internally on eighteen extraordinarily massive square columns having projections on two sides. The lower portion of the columns is built of stone and the upper of brick covered by a thick coat of buff-coloured lime plaster.
“The enclosure wall is built of brick masonry, with a coat of lime plaster, adorned by a range of shallow arched niches.“
The mosque is said to have been built upon an ancient Buddha vihara. A mosque first came up here during Fateh Khan’s rule (1510-1517). It was a sunni mosque. In 1623, Nur Jahan, rebuilt it as a Shia mosque. It is said the stones for the mosque came from ancient stairway that linked Shankaracharya temple to river Jehlum near the present day Durga Nag temple.
In around 1819, Maharaja of Punjab, Ranjit Singh, send his best military general (Akali) Phula Singh to take on Afghans in Kashmir. Phula Singh defeated Jabbar Khan and then he went around triumphantly rearranging Kashmir, again. Pathar Masjid was taken over by the newly established government. A toup (tank) was placed at Pathar Masjid so that the shrine of Shah Hamada across the river could be blown up. Pandit Birbal Dhar who is said to have invited Sikhs into Kashmir, intervened to save the shrine.
The bank inside the mosque is still used for some kind of storage.
On west bank of Dal Lake, in 1635, on order of Shahjahan work on a new garden was started. It is said that on the same site, sometime after 1586, Akbar had laid out a garden.
In summer of 1635, when Sun entered the Zodiac of Aries, northern vernal equinox, March 20-21, twelve hundred saplings of chinar were planted all at the same time. Laid out in classic ‘Char Chinar’ pattern, four chinars in four corners of a rectangular piece of land, so that a person in centre would be under shade at all hours of the day. The saplings were fed water and milk. A canal from Zukrah canal (canal now non-existent, near Batpora) was dug and brought in to water velvety green grass. A boundary wall was raised and fountains planted (both disappeared during Afghan time). This Mughal garden was named Nasim Bagh or the Garden of Breeze, for the gently breeze that blew though it.
Persian chronograph for the garden read:
Dar jahan chu ba hukm-i-Shah-i-Jahan,
Dauhae tazah az na’im amad,
Kard gulgasht-i-an chu Shah-i-Jahan
Bulbul az shakha gul kalim amad;
Guft tarikha dauhae shahi
Az bihishte Adan Nasim amad
When in this land by order of Shah Jahan
A fresh garden came into existence out of magnificence.
When Shah Jahan roamed therein
Bulbul spoke from a blossomed branch
Said the date of the royal garden.
Local lore recommended visiting the garden in mornings when gentle Nasim would blow through it.
The Persian saying about gardens of Kashmir used to be:
Subha dar Bagha Nashat o Sham dar Bagha Nasim, Shalamar o lala-zar o sair-i-Kashmir ast u bas
Morning at Nashat Bagh and evening at the Nasim Bagh,
Shalamar, and tulip fields, – these are the places of
excursion in Kashmir and none else.
However, Godfrey Thomas Vigne, who visited Kashmir in 1835, was told by locals to visit the garden in morning.
I visited the garden in morning. I wonder if people still know when exactly Nasim blows.
In 1950s, during the time of Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, this garden was handled over by the Dogra royal family to the civil administration for use as campus of a University. Naseem Bagh is now the beautiful campus of Kashmir University.
Autumn, 2014
Naseem Bagh
1875
[via: Japan Archive]
It was a popular camping site for the British.
Hari Parbat from Naseem Bagh
1890s
[via: George Eastman House Photography Collections]
Nasim Bagh by Ralph Stewart
1913
[via: pahar.in]
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Historical account based on ‘Tarikh-i- Hasan’ of Moulvi Ghulam Hasan Shah (1832-1898). And translations provided by Pandit Anand Koul in 1920s.
Bimla Raina with her daughter June, 1964 Qarfalli Mohalla, Srinagar. Came across it in an old family album at my Matamal My Nani’s elder brother, D.N. Raina was Bimla Raina’s father-in-law. Mother tells me she married when she was in 9th standard and then soon discontinued education. Moved to Jammu much before 1990. Known to be a fun loving and cheerful person. And a great singer.
I fondled the child Divine
in my lap
and was lit up within
by slow degrees;
the little juggler I caressed
gave me the slip,
but I crossed the bar
through the shortest route
~ Bimla Raina, vakh from ‘Veth Maa Chhe Shongith‘ (Is Vitasta Asleep, 2003). Translation by A.N. Dhar (Country of the Soul, 2009).
Last of the tribe continuing to write in the format of Kashmiri poetry made famous by Lal Ded in 14th century.
Buniyar Temple, about two miles above Rampur, situated along the Baramula-Uri road on the bank of the Vitasta, is often described as the “best preserved” specimen of Kashmiri architecture. Although unlike most Kashmiri temples which are made of limestone, this one (beside the one at Wangat) is made of granite.
This is the story of the temple at Bhaniyar/Buniar/Bhavaniyar/Bunair/Boniar/Boniyar/Buniyar.
On my way back from Uri, I decided to check the ancient temple whose roof is visible from the road. A military man walked me from the main road, past the security gate and into the military camp which now surrounds the temple. On way to the temple, the man, someone from mainlands, claimed the temple was build by ‘Pandavas’. When I told him that I am ethnically Kashmiri Pandit, the man happily said that it all belongs to me.
In 1868, when Henry Hardy Cole arrived at the temple along with photographer John Burke for his ‘Archaeological Survey of India report, ‘Illustrations of Ancient Buildings in Kashmir’ (1869), a local Hindu Fakir who lived in the temple told him that the temple was build by ‘Pandus’.
The temple had recently been excavated on the orders of Maharaja Ranbir Singh. Before that, the temple had been claimed by mountain and the trees, which might explain why it survived vandalisation and remained untouched for a long time.
Burke’s Photograph [via British Museum]
The ruins of this temple had earlier been noticed by Karl Alexander A. Hügel (1835) and G.T. Vigne (1837). Hügel mistakenly described it as a well preserved Buddhist temple, while Vigne called it a Hindu ruin on the road.
An attempt to study the temple was first made by Alexander Cunningham in November 1847. He noticed that the Pandits called the place ‘Bhawaniyar’. And assumed it to be a ‘Bhawani’ temple. Cunningham couldn’t examine the temple properly as it was half-buried under snow at the time. Using a telescope he tried to see beyond the thick foliage if the inner wall of the temple had a colonnade.
First proper detailed note of the temple came in 1865 when that summer W.G. Cowie visited the temple that had been recently excavated revealing 13 sq.ft. interior), walls supported on a basement of 4 ft.sq, a cloistered quadrangle measuring 145’x120′. The findings were given in ‘Notes on Some of the Temples of Kashmir’ (Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal > Volume XXXV, Issue II, 1867). Te local Pandits told him that the temple was built by one Bonadutt, hence the name of the place. The brother of this man had built a temple at Venapora beyond Sopor. About the granite used in the temple he wrote:
“The material of which the buildings are constructed, is a pale, coarse granite, of which there seems to be no quarry within reach on the left bank of the Jhelum. This circumstance is remarkable, considering the enormous size and weight of some of the stones employed. Mr. Drew, a geologist in the service of H, H. the Maharajah, thinks that the blocks of granite must have been carried down some of the valleys on the opposite side into the river bed, whence they were brought for the construction of the temple.”
He also suggests that the central temple was probably surrounded by water (just like Cunningham had suggested for Martand) as he found two old wells also near the temple. He also noticed that near upper base of the temple, is the spout of a channel which carried off the washings of the image. He wrote it looked like a snake or some similar animal.
Later some addition notes were added by James Fergusson in around 1876. He noticed that the colonnade was Gandhara inspired.
Final clear description about the temple was given by R.C. Kak in Ancient Monuments in Kashmir (1933):
The gateway is a double-chambered structure faced on each open side by a trefoil arch surmounted by a steep pediment. The lintels of the closed arches are supported on pairs of columns which were originally fluted, though the weather has now left no trace of flutes. They have a double capital, the upper one being voluted on all four sides. The walls are externally surmounted by a cornice of kirti- mukhas, alternating with miniature trefoiled niches. Upon this rests the first course of the pyramidal roof.
The flights of steps-on the eastern and western sides respectively afford entrance to and exit from the entrance chamber. The one on the roadside is buried underground, but the inner stair has been excavated. It consists of seven steps flanked by sloping rails and upright side walls. Between this stair and the temple is a small stone platform which formed the lowermost course of the stepped base of a column (most probably a Garudadhvaja).
The priest in charge of the temple has now placed in it a small stele of very crude workmanship and late date, which he has painted with vermilion. Another similar stele, still standing in the position in which it was found, is seen in front of the temple stair.
The temple itself stands on a double base, which is in every respect similar to other structures of its kind in Kashmir. A lofty trefoil arch, standing upon advanced pilasters and enclosing a rectangular entrance originally surmounted by an ornamental trefoil and steep pediment, gives access to the sanctum. The jambs of the entrance are adorned with half-engaged columns. The interior is a square of 14 feet. The pedestal of the image is placed on a broad platform. The original image, which seems to have been of Vishnu, is now replaced by small Siva-lingas originally brought from the bed of the river Narbada. The walls are covered with a coat of modern whitewash. The string course from which the ceiling springs is still visible, but the ceiling itself which Bishop Cowie saw in 1865 and described as domical, has since either fallen down or been removed. It was, no doubt, similar to the ceilings of the larger temples at Wangath.
Externally the only decorations are the trefoils of the recesses, their pediments, and the cornice of kirtimukhas and miniature trefoils from which the roof sprang.
The quadrangle measures 145′ by 119 1/2′, and consists of fifty- three cells and the gateway. They are rectangular, 7′ long by 4′ broad. Each cell has a single trefoiled entrance enclosed in a high- pitched pediment resting on half-engaged columns. These ranges of cells are preceded by a noble colonnade which stands on a base similar to that of the temple. A transverse beam connects the capitals of the columns with the roof of the cells. Over these beams rises the entablature, only one course of which, namely the frieze of miniature trefoils, is extant.
In the centre of each range of cells, except, perhaps, the one in which the gateway stands, is an apartment of larger dimensions preceded by a pair of taller columns which are advanced about 4′ from the rest of the peristyle.
The top course of the cells is also decorated in the same way as the frieze above.
On the south side, projecting from the cornice of the upper base of the temple, is the spout of the channel which carried off the washings of the image. It seems to have been shaped originally into a makara, or crocodile’s head. Immediately below it is a huge water trough carved out of a single block of stone.
The rain-water in the courtyard is carried off by a drain which runs under the south-eastern corner of the peristyle.
In cell No. 11 of the north range, beginning the reckoning from the corner nearest the gateway, is the side entrance, which was then, as now, closed with a wooden door. The monotony of the external face of the western wall is partially relieved by rows of small square projections. In its two corners are two cells opening outwards.
Immediately outside the side-door mentioned above is a square structure built of plain blocks of stone. The middle portion of each of its four walls has fallen down, and the gaps have been filled in with small chips of stone built in mud. It is difficult to surmise what was its original purpose.
The temple is now often described as Vishnu temple dating back to 8th-12 century A.D.
In 1947 war, some Dogra soldiers were holed up in the temple and attacked by the raiders. The place is now a military camp with the temple getting reshaped by aesthetics of military men.
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Photograph from ‘Our summer in the vale of Kashmir’ (1915) by Frederick Ward Denys.
This is now worshipped as Shiv Ling
A postcard from 1920s.
Sketch of Colonnade from ‘Notes on some of the temples of Kashmir, W.G. Cowie, 1865
The walls of the colonnade now have crude murals of Hindu deities.
About 46 miles down Jhelum river from Srinagar, just past Baramulla town, the topography changes drastically, hence the nature of river also changes. The mountains become edgier and the river becomes rougher. The valley of Kashmir falls rapidly, it slopes down. At places, water desperately seeks place to escape. At places, it physically cuts through them using routes violently carved out by it over ages. The beauty of all this seems a cold naked fact to the eye. The Jhelum river within 100 miles has an average fall of 50 feet per miles, with a minimum flow of around 3,000 cubic feet per minute. Ancient eyes of Kashmiris must have witnessed these cold facts and given rise to the story of Varah and the draining of Satisar, giving rise to the mythical origins of the valley.
Just 46 miles down Jhelum, the influence of Kashmiri culture drops, Kashmiri ethnicity gets overtaken by Gojri and language changes to Urdu. It seems a place so unlike Srinagar. The river looks unfamiliar.
Just past the ancient pilgrimage spot of Buniyar, it is here at Rampore in Uri area of Baramulla (the ancient Varaha Moh), a human endeavour about hundred years ago shaped the present semblance of Kashmir. A river was tamed to produce the life force of modern human life: electricity.
After the devastating flood of 1903, in 1904, skills of Canada born Major Alain de Lotbinière of Royal Engineers, after having successfully harnessed Cauvery Falls in Madras for electricity to be used for Kolar gold-fields in Mysore, were sought by Maharaja of Kashmir Pratab Singh for taming Jhelum river.
The idea was to produce electricity using the wild power of the river, and then use that electricity to dredge the river, to control it further.
Lotbinière came up with an extensive plan that made brilliant use of local topology and resources to produce one of the great marvels of engineering for its time.
The details of the plan are given by Francis Younghusband, Resident of Kashmir for three years starting 1906, in his book ‘Kashmir’ (1911):
[Lotbinière] therefore came to the work in Kashmir in September 1904 fully primed with the knowledge of all the latest developments of electrical science, and at once conceived the idea of harnessing, not any of the minor rivers of Kashmir, but the river Jhelum itself, and selected a spot a few miles above Rampur where he might entrap some of the water, lead it along the mountain-side at practically a uniform level, till he could drop it through pipes on to turbines—very much in the same manner as a mill-stream is led along and then dropped on to a water-wheel—and so by setting in motion various machines generate electrical energy.
The theory of the electric installation is then very simple. The valley falls rapidly. At the part selected it falls about 400 feet in 6½ miles. Some of the water is taken out and kept at about the same level so that at the end of the 6½ miles it has a fall of 401 feet. Consequently when it is dropped those 400 feet it falls with immense force and velocity. By most ingenious machinery this force is turned into electrical energy, and then transmitted by wires to wherever wanted—it is hoped even to the plains of the Punjab, to Rawal Pindi at least.
[…]
Water for the present project has been taken out a couple of miles above Rampur at a most charming spot, where the river comes foaming down over innumerable boulders, and the banks are overshadowed by the same graceful deodar trees which clothe the mountain-sides. Here very strong and solid masonry headworks and regulating sluices have been built under the lee of some friendly boulders; and elaborate precautions have been taken to protect these headworks from the impact of the thousands of logs which are annually floated down the river by the Forest Department to be caught and sold in the plains below.
From these headworks what is called a flume has been constructed in which the water will run along the mountain-side to the forebay or tank immediately above the generating station. This flume, answering to the channel which conducts the water to a flour-mill, is to the eye absolutely level, but it has in reality the very small drop of 1·05 feet in 1000 feet—just sufficient to make the water run easily along it. Its length is about 6½ miles; and the main difficulty in the whole project was found in constructing it. A road or even a railway when it comes to an obstacle can very likely, by a change in the gradient, rise over it or under it. But this flume had to go straight at any obstacle in its way, for it obviously could not rise, and if it were lowered it could not rise again, and so much horse-power would have been lost at the far end. The flume, in fact, once it was started off had to take things as it found them and make the best of them. The first obstacle was a great spur of boulder conglomerate. This had to be cut down into to a depth of forty feet. An arched masonry passage had then to be made, and the whole covered over again. Five torrents were negotiated by passing them clean over the flume. Over six other torrents the flume—here made of wood—had to be carried on strong iron bridges. And six tunnels were made through projecting rocky spurs. Only one-third of the 6½ miles’ length of flume could be built of masonry, and the remainder had necessarily to be built of timber. This portion had an internal section of 8-1/3 feet by 8½ feet, and was constructed of tongued and grooved, machine-planed, deodar planking 2¾ inches thick, supported on cross frames 3½ feet apart.
[…]
On emerging from the flume the water enters the brick-lined tank or reservoir called the forebay, where it settles for a moment before descending the great iron pipe which conducts it on to the machinery in the power-house below. In this forebay there are, of course, sluice gates to regulate the flow, and shut it off altogether at one or all the pipes. And there is also a spill channel for the water to flow away to waste when it is not wanted.
Then four hundred feet below we come to the power-house, with all the most modern electrical plant transported from America, and much of it from the farthest western coast of America, across the Atlantic and the Indian Oceans, right across India, and then for 150 miles by road over a range 6000 feet high. The water-power made available by the flume is capable of generating 20,000 horse-power; but as that amount of power is not at present required, electrical machinery to develop not more than 5000 h.-p. has as yet been put in, though space and all arrangements have been provided in the power-house for machinery to develop 15,000 h.-p. more whenever that is required. The machinery is by the General Electric Co. of New York, and the generators supplied are of the three-phase 25-cycle type. The water-wheels upon which the water from the forebay, led down the pipes and contracted through a nozzle, impinges with such tremendous velocity that a hatchet could not cut the spout, are made of specially toughened steel, and are so cunningly designed that the utmost effect is obtained from the fall of the water, and that immediately the water has done its work it is allowed to pass away at once through a waste channel back again into the river without further impeding the machinery. These wheels were supplied by Abner Doble of San Francisco. They are sent revolving with immense rapidity—five hundred revolutions per minute, or eight every second—and they cause to revolve the electrical generators which are placed on the same axis, and thereby electric energy is generated. By a series of very ingenious machines this electric energy is regulated and conducted to the transmission wires which are at present carried through Baramula to Srinagar, and which will transmit the power at the extremely high voltage of 60,000 volts from the generating station to the spot where the power is required.
The construction operations were under charge of Mr. A.C. Jewett, a citizen of California and a former employee of General Electric. He later went on to be the chief engineer for the Amir of Afghanistan in a water-power project near Kabul. [ ‘Special Consular Reports. Vol. 72, 1915]
Flumes running along the hills
The plant was commissioned in 1905 and fully operation by 1907
The water from Jhelum was diverted about 8 miles higher up into a canal, running partly on the surface but mostly in a wooden tube or flume, 8 feet square, which ran along hillside.
The fall at the power house was about 430 feet. The result of the effort was about 5000 horse-power which was used for dredging the bed of the Jhelum River and neighbouring marshes, and thus preventing floods (something that was later stopped in around 1917 [Kashmir Ecology and Environment: New Concerns and Strategies by Saligram Bhatt]), and for reclaiming some 60,000 acres of cultivable land. Between 1908 and 1912 about 6100 acres of land was reclaimed from Wular Lake. The electric power was also be used for heating the water basins in the silk factory and turning the reeling machinery, as well as for lighting Srinagar making it the second city in the sub-continent to be electrified. There were also plans for providing electricity to industrial operations in Rawalpindi, Murree and Abbottabad. Also, to the proposed Srinagar-Abbottabad railway line.
Thus the whole of Kashmir was getting reshaped by taming of the river at Mohra.
Given the strategic location of Mohra power project (about 85 Kilometer from Srinagar), the plant was sabotaged on 22nd October 1947 by Paskitan backed Tribals in a bit to overtake Kashmir. The valley plunged into darkness. However, when the dust settled, the plant remained operational. Mohra was was the only source of power supply in Kashmir Valley till the year 1955. It was heavily damaged later in the flood of July 1959 from which it never recovered.
A new power plant was set up in Mohra in 1962 using foreign collaboration but because of Nehruvian era policy, avoiding American help and instead relying on Hungary. The Plant was at a different location upstream and remained operational till 1992 but now only serves as the spot for transmission grid.
On crossing into Rampore after passing an Army check-post, the first power plant we see along the river is the New Mohra Power Plant commissioned in 1962.
Memory of Hungarian Electrical Engineer Lajos Kaps who died on 22nd November 1962 due to electric shock. The lore has it that he had a nail in his shoe and the incident happened during the inauguration.
Control room for transmission
Remnants of the power plant.
The river from the New Mohra Power Plant. The river is great for fishing at some of the nearby spots.
The men who control electricity
The place was once famous for wildlife. Wild cat sightings are still common.
Further down the river, we come to the place where stood the old actual Mohra Power Plant.
None of the old machinery can be seen. However, some later additions can be seen laying around. Here, a piece from British Company Winget.
The men who used to work in the old powerhouse. They hope that the place will be converted into some sort of heritage. For ages, the powerhouse was the only source of employment for locals.
These men remembered that the land for power plant was purchased by the Maharaja from local inhabitants.
Biscuit tin roofed temple next to the old post office of Mohra. Biscuit tin roof for temple was in vogue in Kashmir in early 20th century.
The two local men who showed me the spot across the road from where water was dropped onto the turbine. They also mentioned a reservoir up the hills. We didn’t have time for that.
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16th November, 2014
When I visited the place, the place was getting ready for local elections. I was accompanied by Michael Thomas who had come all the way from England to look for a piece of his family history. His grandfather had worked at Mohra in 1908. Over at Pipal Press, he writes:
“In 1899 my grandfather left the Potteries in England as an inventor/electrical engineer and joined Balmer Lawrie in Calcutta. They had just started an Electrical Division and secured contracts ‘up country’. Family records show that William Hodgkinson worked in Kashmir on a hydroelectric power station and his first son (my uncle) was born in Gulmarg in March 1909. “
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There was a terrorist attack in the region a few weeks later. Among the dead was a Kashmiri Pandit Police officer.
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After the trip, on reaching Jammu, I showed the photographs to a grand-aunt. She remembered her father, a man named J.L. Dhar, used to work at Mohra, probably in 1930s. She remembered something and laughed.
She remembered that the plant had to be shut once because a 21 Kilogram fish had got stuck in one of the funnels. “Imagine the distance travelled by the fish!”
An interview with Azim Tuman, former chairman of Kashmir Houseboat Owners Association (KHBOA). Recorded by me back in 2014
Watch for oral history of boats, houseboats and tourism in Kashmir. Of particular interest are the bits about evolution on houseboat, the way river transport worked, the major transaction points along the river, the role of a Pandit entrepreneur in the houseboat business around a century ago, the negative impact of 1947-48 war on tourism, how tourism revived in 60s and again in 1990s and the present concerns of the boatmen community.
Contributed by my Mamaji, Roshan Lal Das. Lots of personal history and great insight on how a house was built in Kashmir. This is part two of A House in Kralkhod, a series in which he remembers all the houses he has lived in and built.
We sold our ancestral home of Kralkhod in 1975. Some of our heirlooms had to be left behind as back then I felt these things to be useless. I still regret it. One of the heirlooms was a large stone mortar (known as kanz in Kashmiri) along-with a large wooden pestle(moohul). Ladies of earlier generation used to pound rice in mortar. We had large wooden container too in which we stored grains. We called it Ganjeen. We also had wooden bookcase with a sliding top. A broken gramophone with a broken trumpet too was left behind. We also left a stone grinder which was used to grind millet right until till 1950s. Although these heirlooms were heavy and large, but these were worth keeping for. I still regret it.
Anyhow, we left Kralkhod and took up a rented accommodation in Chanapora area (henceforth to be called Chhanpore in the write-up, as we used to say in Kashmiri. Chanapora literally means locality of Carpenters). This was a large house with lot of open land around it. The house had recently been built by a deputy superintendent of police and he charged us a hefty sum as rent. I would wonder as to how he could build such a huge mansion unless he had inherited a large sum of money, which was less likely. Later, I came to know that he was under suspension as he had earned lot of ill wealth while he being posted in Srinagar airport security. He would allow free flow of illicit drugs by smugglers. Later, he got himself reinstated due to his close proximity with the then home minister of the state. While living in this house, we started work on the new house.
We had a small plot in Chhanpore which had been allotted to us by the government. From a large plot of about 4000 sq.ft in Kralkhod, we came down to 1800 sq.ft in Chhanpore. The construction in suburbs had meanwhile changed considerably. Gone were the days of mud plaster, wooden beams and lime. I was confused as to what I should do. There was no one to guide me. I finally approached my uncle who had retired as a civil engineer a decade earlier.There was no system of consulting architects.T he mason decided everything. However, my uncle gave him proper instructions.
We dug up nearly four feet for laying the plinth. Meanwhile, I was asked to buy stones from Pandrethan area near Shankracharya hills. Since hundreds of years, a number of quarries existed at the foot of hills of Shankracharya hills in northeast of Srinagar. I was asked to procure rubbad stones from this quarry. I was advised to sit in a truck to see the stones being loaded in front of me. I was taken almost a kilometre up into the artificial path created by hundred years of constant quarrying. It was explained to me that rubbad stones are named because these are soft and easy to break. These stones are mainly used as fillers. The outer walls were built in stronger quartzite stones known in local lingo as fundai stones. These have bluish hue and are mainly available in Zewan area (known in historical times as Jayawana after the king Jayapida). The corners of the plinth were built in deewri stones, the chiseled stones available in Pantachoke area. The stone cutters of Pantachoke have been doing chiseling of stones right from hindu period when they carved idols. These days they mostly carve names in tombstones for Muslim graves. We purchased almost a dozen load-full of trucks. While unloading I surprised to see that a number of fandai stones had deep impressions of marine arthropods known as crustaceans in zoological terms.I enquired from a palaeontologist friend. He confirmed my observations. This fact compounded my belief that Kashmir valley was indeed a deep lake during geological epochs much before man made it his abode.
The labourers then sorted out small stones and filled the bottom most layer of the plinth with these. The upper layers were filled with larger stones. In the meanwhile, I was asked to fetch sand trucks from Sindh (not connected with Sindh river or Indus revier). When I asked my uncle as to why sand from Sindh nallah when I could easily get sand from nearby Doodh Gunga river, my uncle replied that the sand from Sindh nallah was having larger grains with less of clay sticking to it. Moreover, the sand grains of Sindh are a bit lustrous. Also, these grains bind better with cement.
After dispatching the sand trucks, I took a trip to Kondhbal, a village in Ganderbal tehsil famous for its special kind of lime (kondha in Kashmiri means lime). I had been directed by my uncle to purchase lime only from Kondhabal. I was surprised to see whole of the village as if painted in white. The living huts were situated just adjacent to the lime quarries. The people including women moved around with smudges of lime on their faces and clothes. Comparing the lime of of Kondhabal village to the ones available in the market, I was amazed over its far better quality
The plinth was filled with a lime and surkhi (brick powder) mix. Rabad stones were arranged haphazardly over the top layers. When the stone layers reached the ground level the Fandai stones were laid were laid over these and fixed with cement. The chiseled stones of Pantachok were laid at the corners which gave a decent look to the plinth.
After plinth reached a height of 4 feet, I was told that a DPC layer was to be put over the top layer of the plinth. I had heard the name DPC for he first time. I was told that DPC meant ‘Damp Proof Coating’ and it was usually laid along with iron rods.
Upon searching for iron rods in market, one dealer offered me steel rods which he had saved from a much earlier stock from a Tata steel distributor. The stuff was real good but it was a labour intensive exercise to break open these rods. It was not like the TMT rods available these days, but the exercise was worth it as we found it later.
After laying the DPC, we waited about a week so as to allow it to dry.
Later, I was told that that I should build pillars and fill the gaps with a singular layered bricks known in local lingo as Bagal. The walls were laid in mud but the lentils were laid in cement. Meanwhile, the plinth was filled up with the earth which had been dug up earlier during laying of plinth.
I was asked to look for timber which had to be used for building window frames and for supporting the upcoming slab. I had no idea about timber measurements of timber. I learnt that timber in the form of joinery is sold in cubic feet and the planks are sold in square feet. There is a great disadvantage in buying wood in Kashmir as it does not dry in cold climate for months together. I hear that these days it is is heated artificially and treated chemically.The joinery was used as a scaffolding and the planks were laid to spread over these. After spreading a network of steel rods over the wooden planks, I was asked to procure truckloads of small round pebbles from Ganderbal town situated over the Sind Nalla. I asked my Uncle as why I had to buy round pebbles and why not crushed stones (Bajri). I was told that the pebbles make better slab. Next day we collected nearly 20 labourers and work was started. We made a partially dry slurry(unlike the ones made these days which is mostly wet). We were done by 6 p.m. and we had made only 4 inches thick slab unlike others houses which were usuallu 6 inches thick. This must have been one of the few slabs in Kashmir which was 4”thick. We found it later that many 6” slabs developed cracks during winters.
It was turn to build a roof. Tin roofs are the norm in Kashmir since last fifty years. By early seventies, the tin roofs had evolved into various shapes. Our expert carpenter, Luqmaan Shaan suggested me to build either a Rushian Baam (‘Baam’ in Kashmiri means ‘Roof’) or a Star Baam.
In Rushian baam, space was left in the middle to build a small sunshine attic or what we call as cats attic – Brair Kani. In the case of Star Baam, curved eaves were built on the corners so as to give a star like shape to the roof. Since we were running short of money, I asked Luqmaan to build a simple roof. A network of joineries was created by using the scaffoldings used earlier to support the slab. The scaffoldings were not available on rent those days.
After completing the superstructure, we moved onto making the staircase. Earlier,we kashmiris were used to having almost 8 foot wide corridors which led to our rooms. With the shrinking of living space, need for optimum utilisation of space was felt and it was difficult to create space for staircase. So, within 5 ft. of corridor, we had to build a semi-spiral staircase giving a flat base at the turnaround. It is known as chaand in local lingo.
After stairs, we started work on flooring the house .One of my cousins suggested that we should use ‘chips’ for the floor of corridor. I was amazed by it for it was a new thing for us. We did it and for the first time I saw white cement. The labourers got some different kinds and different numbered grinding stones. They rubbed on and on till a smooth finish was obtained, till it emitted a lustre.
After completion of bathrooms, we dug a hole in the near vicinity so as to build a soakage pit. In Jammu and Kashmir very few families dug soakage pits as we were only familiar with open drains which made everyone susceptible to vector infections.
Thus ends the story of my second house which I had to leave in 1985 in very peculiar circumstances.
The present house which I am living in Jammu is my 4th one.
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Mamaji had sent me this write-up back in 2012, but I asked him to send a photograph of the house to go along with the write-up. Seems, there are none. The house was burnt down in October 1990. A photograph of the burnt house was used for making insurance claim. But, there are no photographs remaining now, as it was lost due to memory corruption of a Disk drive.
In an old family album, found a photograph from 1985 of my family’s visit to the Chanapora house, my matamal.
-0- Update January 19, 2019
The place where stood my massi’s house in Chanpora, Srinagar. My matamaal, burnt down in mid 90s, sold a year later. The initial offers for the house was about 9-10 lakh. It was a house built in around 1975 at an upcoming new suburb after selling the ancestral house at Kralkhod in interior old Srinagar. The dealers kept showing up frequently. After the house was burnt down (a pic had appeared in some paper). It went for about 3 lakh. When my massi went to collect the money for the house, the buyer said he was 10000 short. The “Deal” still happened. And they say it was Kashmiri Pandits who were settings their own houses on fire for insurance money. The greedy scheming pandits. I try to imagine my Massi, a single mother, going back to Kashmir, paying some Kashmiri Muslim to set her house on fire. Horror. A few years ago, I saw the image of the new house that stands in its place. I thought it was my Mama’s house, which was in same area but a different location. Last month, after talking to massi I realized it is in fact the place where her house was. My memories have stated to jumble. In 1990, I promised myself I would remember everything. I thought it all meant something. That I might need these memories someday. But, you can’t save it all. Every 7 years human body sheds all its cells and the cells are reborn. Perhaps, even as the cells in brain are reborn, the nature of memories change. The cells in my body have been reborn at least 3 times since 1990. Some memories are lost, some freshly remembered and some memories are assigned new meanings. I remember, back them, in mid-90s, I had a recurring nightmare, probably triggered by the news that the house had been burnt down or was sold. In sleep, being stuck in the brair-kani, cat’s attic of my matamaal, hearing azaans, or sounds that seem like azaans, getting louder, a dark shadow approaching, walls disappearing, the house disintegrating, brick by brick turning into a mosque with a piece of moon at the top of the attic. Some nightmares they do come true. A few years back I saw the image of the house that stands there, it is house painted green. My memory of the house, my matamaal is now painted green, a peaceful pious green.
I called my grandmother this morning to ask her again the story.
I call to ask her the name of the man who died in 1931. Morning of July 13th in Kashmir.
She asks me not to waste my time.
I insist.
He was a brother of her mother.
She doesn’t remember the name. She doesn’t remember the year. What did he do for a living? She doesn’t know.
All she knows:
‘It was the year of first “gadbad“.’
I remember hearing bits: He had gone out to get bread from the local bakery. Someone put an axe to his head.
She doesn’t remember all this.
She asks me not to waste my time with this nonsense.
She asks if I had my breakfast.
[Tangential events of 1931 were to setoff KPs and KMs on opposing paths]
Images: Prisoners of 1931. Source: Bibliothèque nationale de France
If I were to live my life based on the old Pandit code, I would have to spend most of my time bathing. The world is just too impure.
Photo: River bank, Srinagar. 1970s. Albert Robillard.
Karmakandakramavali by Sri Somashambhu of 11th century A.D. South India, the Shaivite work lays down rules and regulations pertaining to the daily practices of an orthodox Hindu, who is a rigid follower of the Tantric system.
From Kashmir Sanskrit Series (1947) edited by J.D. Zadoo, Karmakandakramavali tells us following about Snana (Bath):
There are five kinds of Snanas, namely – Mala, Vidhi Varuna, Agneya, Mahendra, Pavana, Mantra and Manasa.
Mala consists in employing earth, like soap, to remove all dirt that may have accumulated on the body. It is kind of preparatory bath taken before the principal one i.e. Vidhi Snana (obligatory bath). The Varuna is the bath with water (as Varuna is the lord of water) which is to be taken if one touches a pigeon, fowl, murderer, crow, heron, ass, horse, cat, pig, vulture, camel, cremation ground, an out-caste, a corpse, and a woman who has recently delivered. The Agneya, which consists in smearing the body with ashes, is ordained to be taken when one comes in contact with dirty women, eunuchs, Shudras, cats and mice. The Mahendra consists in wetting one’s body with the rain accompanied with sunshine. Pavana, in taking on the body the dust raised by the hoofs of cows. Mantra in sprinkling water with mantra and Manasa, in reflecting on God Shiva, prior to taking breathing exercises.
