Some background info. at Kashmiriat.org can be found about the people involved and in a way its political nature.
Kashmiri Pandits already have a lot of organizations that work to various ends and needs butI think a political party makes more sense, now. It’s almost a natural step for Kashmiri Pandits. After 17 years, Kashmiri Pandits too have become a political issue.
“We have launched a political party, the Jammu and Kashmir National Democratic Front, with the aim to fight for the honourable return and rehabilitation of Pandits in the valley and constitution of a development board for them in Jammu,”
AK Dewan, its acting coordinator told reporters . Also, according to news report
The constitution of a development board in Jammu for the community, its return to the valley, development of temple trusts and migrant camps, enhancement of relief and passage of bill dealing with their shrines are included in its agenda.
It’s going to be tough but it all seems natural given the present concern of Kashmiri Pandits. Thinking about past, planning for the present and hope for the future.
We are foolish people. when we are people of J&K, then we dont realise that tourism is our major source of income and once its lost we are in danger of sieged by poverty and unemployment but no we are surrounded by wrong notion that central govt. did not do anything for us. Sheikh Abdullah was not central govt. He was J&K’s own person and mostly he and his family members remain CM of J&K.
Someone replied:
While I agree with what you wanted to say through your post, Peace and all. Nevertheless, I can safely say that you do not know what the problem in Kashmir is all about. You also used the word ‘self respect’. I have heard this word used a thousand times by Kashmiris when they are told about ‘Tourism and poverty and unemployment…’ Their reply: ‘what about the self-respect’ ‘Swabhiman’ and ‘Bharat ke tukdau par palna…’. Guess we can blame Bollywood for such cheesy dialogues.
Sheikh Abdullah, the great one. Kashmir was crying when he died. You know what they did to his grave many years later. They piled shit on it and people have since desecrated it many times since. You know why. Cause he lost his peoples’ respect. People thought he sold Kashmir to India. And his Son… At first nobody took him seriously. He was a mas’khara. He went roving around town on his scooter with Shabana Azmi as Pillion rider. Then he matured to be a fulltime Joker. I have seen him on local T.V channel singing Dilip kumar song ‘Sukh ke sab saathi, Dukn me na koi, Mere Ram…’ in a temple. Talk full blown Bollywood. Who would take him seriously?
You want people to stop being paranoid. Post 1989. There are generations of people in Kashmir who grew up seeing Army on the streets with guns, cement bunkers on street corners. For them it must be common usage to say something like, ‘ Hey Kiddo! Bring me half kg meat from the shop near CRPF bunker. No! not the shop near BSF bunker… That stuff isn’t good.’ Is this normal conversation? Are these people normal?
Well, it isn’t easy being normal living under the much used term Shadow of Guns. Hearing blasts, gun shots, sirens, blackouts, bunker, fuji…. a whole lot of a new Vocab that normal people can learn. They must be seeing empty depilated houses of Pandits everyday…at night the ones without light. Maybe they think about the price it would fetch, about business and about a no good kashmiri Pandit getting richer and about building a shopping complex over it … again just business. Or maybe some feel genuinely sad looking at those houses. But, then what good is Sadness.
There must be a whole new generation of Muslims in Kashmir who wouldn’t know what a Pandit looks like. They might think I have horns, wooden hooves and a big Saffron Tilak on my head. And a whole new generation of Pandits may think that the Kashmiri Muslims are the one with horns, wooden hooves and a taqiyah. It all becomes a one big Mobius Strip.
Having said all this. I still don’t understand why was I thrown out of Kashmir. Who is the director of this film that I can fuck? But, it’s no film. It’s life. A film can have a perspective, a voice, an opinion, a message, a moral, or just a plain ol’story; it can offer an opinioned solution, an Ad, some song and dance, mountains and snow. A life can only have miniaturized elements of these. Film offers certainty and permanence where life offers none. Many people attach with so-called Movements of Liberty, rights blah blah…for the same aim : certainty and permanence.
“We live in the trenches out there. We fight. We try not to be killed, but sometimes we are. That’s all.” ~All Quiet on the Western Front
Just like this dialogue, uncertainty of life told in front of camera or in a page of a Novel is a Certain statement. It may or may not be binding in real life but to the work, it’s binding. And to the people reading or watching it. It may become binding or appear binding. A filmmaker or a writer puts a lot on line when he goes out to state, ‘this is what I believe to be ‘certain and binding’ ’. History and people may not judge them kindly. And in a still developing Nation like India, it can at times be labeled as ‘going against the process of Nation building’. ‘Anti-National’. So, it’s all quiet on all Fronts, watch the naach gana, occasional news, sip a cuppa Irish coffee and be glad that you are not living in the same Universe.
-A conversation that strangely( or not so strangely) took place at a Cinema Blog
Nirmal Verma (3rd April 1929, Shimla – 25 October 2005)
Ve Din Nirmal Verma’s first novel, was set in Prague, Czechoslavakia. He translated Crech writers Ivan Klima and Milan Kundera into Hindi long before their works were available to English readers. Nirmal Verma, together with Mohan Rakesh, Bhisham Sahni, Kamleshwar, Amarkant, Rajendra Yadav and others, started the Nai Kahani (new short story) movement in Hindi literature. His fiction translated into English include The World Elsewhere, Maya Darpan and Other Stories and The Crows of Deliverance. Nirmal Verma won the Jnanpith award in 1999, the highest literary award for Indian writers.
Not many know about his relation with Kashmir.
An impractical and incompetent person as I am in, what people call, real life, I wonder what would I have done with myself, if an alternative life of writing had not provided me a route of escape. Escape from myself into another self. It is through this ‘other’ that I have been trying to discover in my writing the extent and magnitude of my loss.
The shadow of this ‘loss’ fell on my writing from the very beginning, from the very first story itself. It was written in the memory of two sisters whose father had rented me a room to stay in Baramullah (it was before Independence and partition), when I was returning home from Srinagar after spending my first school holidays in Kashmir. The story was never published and I don’t know what happened to those sisters.
But ‘Kashmir’ followed me like a doomed metaphor. The first person who really published my first story was the senior Sanskrit student, the editor of the Hindi section of Stephanian, of St Stephen’s College, a cousin sister of my friend Razdan. As I remember her after 50 years, she was a very frail and fragile creature, brilliant in her studies. She never told me what she thought of my story. Later, after a few years, when I heard of her death, it seemed to be a ‘sign’. Early, in my writing life, I came to know the color of grief. Since I knew nothing else, between grief and nothing, I chose grief, without knowing anything about Faulkner at that early stage.
Nirmal Verma, writing about his life and work in the July 1999 issue of Gentleman magazine.
Cover of a book titled The Trika Saivism of Kashmir by Moti Lal Pandit
Kashmir Saivism also known as Trika tradition encompasses four systems of philosophy: the Pratyabhijna system, the Kula system, the Karma system, and the Spanda system.
Tantric ritual already makes its appearance in the early parts of the Rajatarangini, see for example the mentioning of måtrkacakra, devicakra, right from the earliest times of Kashmiri history; the first ones are said to have been founded by the wife of Jalauka, the alleged son of Asoka.263 But it is not clear in how far Kalhana extrapolates from the usages of his own times in ascribing some of these rites to such early periods. Tantric ritual is also mentioned later on:samaya as a ritual, samayacara 7.279-280. Kalhana, just as Ksemendra, and much earlier, Jayanta Bhatta, does not always speak favorably of Tantric adepts. Kalhana, however, does speaks respectful of Bhatta Kallana, the expounder of Siva Sutras, but he derides the Kaula gurus, probably thinking of those in his time (7.278 ff., 7.295 ff., 7.523, 7.712). Thus, he praises King Yasaskara under whose reign “the Brahman Gurus did not drink spirits while singing their chants” (6.10). This is echoed by the earlier poet, Ksemendra, in his Desopadesa 8,11-13:264
“Alcohol in both hands, resolved, humbled by the loss of caste due to the talk of “Kaula” (about him), with a plate full of fish in his hand, the initiated Bhatta goes to the house of his (Saiva) teacher (11). Busy with gargling sounds, the Bhatta drinks, his throat full of “Bhairava” (recitation) [or: terrible (alcohol)]; in continuity [or: at a “pond”] (alcohol) is licked up; he rolls about, as he holds heavenly water, uneasily. (12) Having spent a whole night (thus), drunken, he has vomited the liquor, his mouth licked by dogs; (but next morning,) completely cleansed, with respectful greetings, he (walks) a Bhatta among the other Bhattas.” (13)
Excerpt From-‘Brahmans of Kashmir’ by Michael Witzel
Read the PDF
* i would like to point out:“Bhatta” is a term still used by Kashmiris to refer a Kashmiri Pandit.*
This is the Southern India version of the story:
In the course of his travels, Sankara reached Kashmir. Here was a temple dedicated to Sarada (sarasvati), the goddess of learning, which housed the sarvajnapitha, the Throne of Omniscience. It was a tradition for philosophers to visit the place and engage in debate. The victorious one would be allowed to ascend the sarvajnapitha. It is said that no philosopher from the southern region had ever ascended the peetha, till Sankara visited Kashmir and defeated all the others there. He then ascended the sarvajnapitha with the blessings of Goddess Sarada. (A few centuries later, Ramanuja, the teacher of Visisht Advaita, would visit the same sarvajnapitha in search of the Baudhayanavrtti. However, a variant tradition places the sarvajnapitha in the south Indian city of Kancipuram.)
Photograph: Gulmarg, April 2006 Azaadi Azaadi…behold Azaadi.
I can see Kashmir getting some form of independence in future but India would never just walk out of there. Kashmir would always have an Indian presence. Presently that presence, sadly, is in the form of Army but in the future, it might be in the form of Business ventures. Any young Indian or Pakistani dreaming of settling there, buying land and setting up business, can keep on smoking the pot. However, in order not to break the Indian/Pakistani hearts, we can add a clause to the once-for-all settlement tissue paper that says: ‘A non-Kashmiri can only settle in the area around Valley and that too if and only if one is above 65 years and super duper rich.’ Imagine an old and cranky Indian Punjabi and a demented Pakistani Punjabi sitting side by side around a bonfire lit in Gulmarg and fighting over a very serious subject- who caught more number of mansheer earlier in the day. Imagine a humble old Kashmiri acting as a mediator. No love lost there- only commerce. Fighting is no good for business. Valley would be like Florida of the east with lazy old men loitering all around, and no more just Switzerland of the east.
Earlier cross posted here at my other blog
—————————————————— Santosh Sivan’s latest film Tahaan: A boy with a grenade will tell the fable of an eight-year-old Kashmiri boy named Tahaan and his struggle to reclaim his pet donkey poignantly named – Birbal. The film stars mainstream actors like Rahul Bose, Anupam Kher and Rahul Khanna; while Purav Bhandare, a boy from Mumbai plays the young protagonist of the movie. The film (earlier tentatively named Dastaan) shot in Kashmir last December, in certain sense marks the return of Indian filmmaker to the subject and the locale of Kashmir. Of course, Santosh Sivan is not new to the subject of Kashmir, remember, he was the cinematographer for Mani Ratnam’s critically acclaimed Roja. Roja may not the kind of movie that I would like to see on the subject of Kashmir but considering that it was made in 1992, a period that marked the peak of militancy in Kashmir – it certainly was a brave attempt at the divisive subject by one of India’s best film director.
In a previous post of mine, I wrote about the subject of remoteness and most obvious trashiness of Indian films made on the subject of Kashmir; in case of Tahaan, a cynical me is itching to scream:
There are no donkeys in Kashmir! Why a Mumbai boy! Why a title like “a boy with a grenade”! What about the Hindi diction!
And after watching the movie, I am sure I could come up with at least hundred more rants. Maybe, I will! I am sure I will have reasons. But, maybe I won’t go up that nutty track.
The Reason:
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I know that Santosh Sivan isn’t new to the genre of Children’s film. I am glad that he has made a children’s film based in Kashmir instead of trying something else (remember his Ashoka. Now, Forget it!). The last children’s film from India that I really liked was Halo (1996) and it made by Santosh Sivan, and I was a child when I saw it so naturally: a good judge of the matter. Set in Bombay (which had recently been renamed Mumbai), the subject of the film was simple: A little girl on discovering that her God sent puppy (that she aptly names – Halo) is missing, gangs up with her neighborhood friends and launches a little search; the film reaches a touching climax when she finds the missing pup and realizes that someone else needs that pup more than she does. Halo is rightly among the best picks from Indian Cinema on and for Children. Santosh Sivan’s next film Malli (1998) told the story of a young girl’s search for a magical blue pill. Now with Tahaan, Sivan again turns his camera toward the domain of children, a domain whose myriad yet simple hues he has the ability to capture well. Children’s film are simple. Or are they!
The world of Children’s film is a precious little paradise that is continuously shrinking and may soon be seen only through CGI.
Invariable, children’s films tend to be about things that children love, lose, and then try to get back. Invariable, in these films – at least when they are not about out and out fantasy: a magic coat, a magic conch, a pari, a supernatural friend from space(no not jaadu but Raghuvir Yadav as Trishanku)etc.– a child’s world is centered around: a street pup, a chicken, a croc, an elephant, a goat, a monkey, a parrot, a pony and now – a donkey. Now, Tahaan isn’t the first Children’s film set in Kashmir, the first Indian Children’s film set in Kashmir was 1983 film Kashmira. Incidentally, this film too had a four-legged star: a pony. Made at a time when peace prevailed in Kashmir, this film told the tale of a parentless and destitute young girl named Kashmira who makes a living thanks to her dear pony named Kesari. Kashmira remembers her parents by the trees that they had planted in their lifetime. When young Mohan, whose father is a tree-felling contractor, meets Kashmira, inspired and sorry for his father’s profession – he too starts liking trees and plants a tree in the name of her dead mother. The film, directed by Sukhdev Ahluwalia renowned for his Punjabi flicks, starred many local Kashmiri actors and Mohanlal Aima – the original composer of the now famous Kashmiri song Bumbro Bumbro – gave his music to the film. Incidentally, this film too belonged to a four legged actor – the film in its climax sees Keseri chase and capture a Jewel thief.
Didn’t I say, ‘There are no donkeys in Kashmir!’
Every Kashmiri knows that.
Apparently, during the shooting of Tahaan in Kashmir, Santosh Sivan also came to realize that Kashmir is rather more abundant in mules. He wanted two donkeys for shooting the film and they were nowhere to be found; providentially, after much search and with some local assistance, he did manage to find his star donkeys who also had the right attitude for starring in films. Indian Express tells the fascinating story of the making of Tahaan. In the same article it is written that [the story of the film is not] the usual concoction of violence and politics.
Knowing Santosh Sivan – what can a viewer expect from the film?
Expect great cinematography – Kashmir and Sivan both at their best. That beautiful snow song from Roja was never shot in Kashmir, those were not the ‘hasi waadhiya’ of Kashmir and that militant hideout of a village with its strange stony pathways, again certainly wasn’t Kashmir. Now that Sivan has finally managed to take his camera to Kashmir, it would certainly be something special.
What else is there to look forward to in this children’s film.
In the words of Santosh Sivan:
“When I looked through my camera, it was strange, unsettling. There was no violence while we were shooting but I could feel that strange mist of conflict. Kashmir’s beauty looked wounded […]’’
For those who remember Halo well(it did win Best Children’s Film Award at the 1996 National Film Festival), the film wasn’t simply a tale of a girl and her lost pup, the shadow of 1993 Bombay riots was always looming subtly in background. In Tahaan, the child’s father is shown to be ‘missing’, missing people is a grim fact of Kashmir, the outcome of now almost 19 year long ‘recent’ Kashmir conflict. In one of the promotional stills released from the film, one can see women and children including Tahaan carrying the placards having the name of the ‘missing’. Something tells me it is not going to be a simple tale of a boy looking for his donkey, it would be tale of a boy with a grenade looking for his lost donkey.
For once, the cynical me can take a long hike in the beautiful mountains of Kashmir.
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Some more news on films on Kashmir:
Last year there was talk of Iranian film maestro Majid Majidi making a UTV produced film on Kashmir called Kashmir Afloat. One report said that the film was named ‘Flood-Stricken Kashmir’ and another report said that it was going to be a documentary about boatman of Kashmir. Don’t know where it is heading.
Sudhir Mishra produced Foot Soldier is being shot in Kashmir and may or may not be a children’s film.
Critically acclaimed film director Vishal Bharadwaj is another from the dwindling tribe of great filmmaker who continue to make films for children even after experiencing success elsewhere. This seems to be a bit of a tradition in India: great film makers making Children’s film, some of the names of yore that can be recounted are: Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen, Shyam Benegal, M.S. Sathyu and Satyen Bose. Names of Vishal Bharadwaj and Santosh Sivan will indeed find great company in that list.
Vishal Bharadwaj’s Makdee(2002), that told the story of a gritty young girl who takes on the might of a ‘witch’, was entertaining enough to count grown-ups among its spellbound audience. More recently, Vishal Bharadwaj’s Blue Umbrella (based on a children’s story by Ruskin Bond) told the story of a young girl growing up in some village in Himachal who acquires a marvelous blue umbrella that soon becomes the subject of envy of a conniving shopkeeper (played out brilliantly by Pankaj Kapur); when the umbrella disappears, she sets to find the thief who stole her dear umbrella.
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Children’s films do tend to be about lost and found. I remember a film – whose name and details now escape me – that I saw many-many years ago on Doordarshan (the patron saint of Children’s Cinema and good Indian films of yore). The film was set in some village in the hills of northern India (or maybe it was a Nepali film) and told the story of a boy who finds some priceless gems that were long buried in his farmland and undertakes a perilous journey out to city to try and sell them for his family. It was something like that, rest I forget.
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In Kashmiri:
A Khar is a donkey
A Khachru is a mule
And both of them are used as surname.
A Khar’kal is an idiot
This of course is of used as a surname.
A surname Kher still draws a smirk from a Kashmiri because he knows that the surname is actually Khar. Over the centuries, Kashmiris have perfected the coveted art of converting nicknames into surnames. It isn’t without reason that a Kashmiri Dhar family on relocating to a canal near Allahabad got the family name Nehru. A Kashmiri surname can tells many stories to discerning ears. Most of the times these surnames were nothing but the outcome of extensive jovial (maybe, not always) verbal fencing exercised thorough indulgent name-calling that could be inflicted on a person on account of: his profession, or his great grand father’s profession, his hair, or his lack of hair, or may just dandruff infested hair, his dietary habits, or just his favorite vegetable dish, his village, his district, or maybe the stinky pond next to his house. According to the moral of a famous Kashmiri fable: no matter what you do with the mulberry tree going in your yard – whether you cut it down, bury the stump or dig out the stump – people will always find a new moniker for you; there was no escaping it, and in the end you just accept the new name.
My uncle, my mamaji, somehow read all this and when we met, he said, “What it this nonsense that you am spreading about no donkeys in Kashmir. Yes, donkeys were not common in Kashmir but I have seen many in my days while I was working in Anantnag.”
