Winter |
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in bits and pieces
Winter |
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Kashmir specific photographs from the M.S. Randhawa’s ‘Farmers of India’ series were previously shared in July by Man Mohan Munshi Ji [here]. The photographer was Hari Krishna Gorkha.
I am now sharing the entire Jammu, Kashmir and Ladakh section from M.S. Randhawa’s ‘Farmers of India’ series. Volume 1 (1959).
Interesting bits:
Apples: Abru or Ambri. Mohi Amri. Khuddu Sari. Nabadi Trel. Sill Trel. Khatoni Trel. Dud Ambri. Wild Apples: Tet shakr. Malmu.
Pears: Nak Satarwati. Nak Gulabi. Gosh Bug (Bub). Tang.
Walnuts: Kaghazi. Burzal. Wantu.
Local name of the type of soil: grutu, bahil, sekil and dazanlad.
Read and download here:
http://goo.gl/lmAhYH
Kalhana tells us that King Avantivarman (AD 855 – 883 AD), the first king of the Utpala dynasty had a foul mouthed son who didn’t have taste for high poetry. He tells us S’amkaravarman (Shankaravarman, A.D. 883-902), son and successor of Avantivarman founded a new town called S’ankarapurapattana and built two temples at the place dedicated to Shiva. The new king named one of the temples after his wife Sugandha as Sugandhesa. After early death of her two boy kings, Sugandha too got to rule Kashmir from 904 to 906 A.D.
Sugandhesa Temple, 1868. Photograph by John Burke for Henry Hardy Cole’s Archaeological Survey of India report, ‘Illustrations of Ancient Buildings in Kashmir’ (1869). |
The shrine is 12′ 7″ square and has, as usual, a portico in front. It is open on one side only, and has trefoiled niches externally on the other sides. These niches contained images. The temple stands on a double base, but it seems probable from the flank walls of the lower stair and the frieze of the lower base, in which the panels intended for sculpture decoration have been merely blocked out, but not carved, that the temple was never completed.
The entrance to the courtyard is in the middle of the eastern wall of the peristyle, and consists, as usual, of two chambers with a partition wall and a doorway in the middle.
Among the architectural fragments lying loose on the site, the most noteworthy are (a) two fragments of fluted columns with their capitals, (b) two bracket capitals with voluted ends and carved figures of atlantes supporting the frieze above, (c) a huge stone belonging to the cornice of the temple, bearing rows of kirtimukhas (grinning lions’ heads) and rosettes, and (d) a stone probably belonging to the partition wall of the entrance, having (1) two small trefoiled niches in which stand female figures wearing long garlands and (2) below them two rectangular niches, in one of which is an atlant seated between two lions facing the spectator, and in the other are two human-headed birds.
The cornice of the base of the peristyle is similar to that of the Avantisvami temple. The cells were preceded by a row of fluted columns, bases of some of which are in situ while those of others are scattered about in the courtyard.
The attention of the visitor is called to the slots in the lower stones of the jambs of the cells. These are mortices for iron clamps which held pairs of stones together. Pieces of much-corroded iron are still extant in some of the mortices.
Cunningham noticed an interesting fact that while the temple of Awantiswamin at Avantipur had lost its central structure and yet retained its wall. At Sugandhesa the central structure was intact while the walls were lost. A recent study of stones at Sugandhesa suggests, “collapse in the tenth or eleventh century, and significant damage in 1885, with at least one intervening earthquake possibly in the seventieth century.” [link] |
Another place. Same treatment. |
In 1847, Cunningham noticed that the chambers of the temple measuring about 6 feet by 4 feet, once must have contained linga: for he found the pedestals of three of those emblems, which had been converted into Muslim tombs within fifty paces of the temple. [‘An Essay on the Arian Order of Architecture, as exhibited in the Temples of Kashmir’ (1848), link to book]
All this essentially means, this Muslim shrine at the temple would now be more that 150 years old. Just as old as Parihaspora was when Sugandhesa Temple and the town of Pattan came up.
Traditional Kashmir morning tea outing |
by John Burke |
Little Uruja and the temple |
1913. Arch. Survey of India. [source of old images: Universiteit Leiden, Netherlands] |
Sugandhesa in ‘Our summer in the vale of Kashmir’ (1915) by Frederick Ward Denys. Probably by Col. H.H. Hart. |
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Near But Kadal in Zadibal, Srinagar, is a 15th century monument known as ‘Madin Sahib’ named after the tomb and mosque of Sayyid Muhammad Madani who came to India with Timur in 1398 and moved to Kashmir during the reign of Sultan Sikandar Butshikan (1389–1413 CE). The monument comprises of a Mosque and a Tomb, with the mosque dating back to around 1444 which first came up during the reign of Zain-ul-Abidin, incorporating elements, pillar and base, from an older Hindu monument.
Madin Sahib 1905. From the report by Nicholls for ‘Archaeological Survey of India Report 1906-7’ |
The place again witnessed rioting in 1872. In 1870, the Franco-Prussian war between France and Germany lead to the decline in Shawl business. The Shia of Srinagar were primarily into paper mache and shawl business. In fact, one of the richest man in the city back then was a Shia named Mirza Muhammad Ali. The Shias in Kashmir follow either of the two influential families, Moulvi or Aga. Most also falling into two contrasting income brackets: rich and poor. It in not hard to follow that in this part of the world, economic disturbances eventually lead to sectarian and religious violence . All it needs is a trigger. Shia at the time were about 6000 in the city and for every 1 Shia there were 10 Sunnis. On 19th September 1872, on the Urs (death anniversary) of Madin Sahib, Sunnis gathered at the place, and so did Shias. Claims over the right to own the place were exchanged. Soon, a wave of violence was unleashed that lasted about three days. In the madness, the ancient monument was damaged in fire that raged all over Zadibal. In fact much of Srinagar was in flames.
Madin Shib in around 1979. Before renovation that started in 1983. Raghubir Singh. |
Madin Sahib in 1983 when the renovation started. Prataap Patrose, Aga Khan Visual Archive, MIT source |
Just then a young guy walking along stopped and asked what were we doing. Bilal explained. The guy said there was no need to climb, there were men inside the shrine on guard duty. To get in, all we had to do was knock on the iron padlocks. Bilal asked the man why the placed was locked. The man didn’t know. Bilal asked him where was he from. He was a local of the area. In Kashmir such questions aren’t asked directly. If you are Sunni, you don’t ask the other person directly if he is Shia.
We banged on the railing. But there was no response. The guards were probably watching television somewhere inside. Finally, after about half an hour of knocking, two men appeared sleep walking from behind the shrine. As they approached, Bilal in an insidious tone asked me to keep my mouth shut and just follow his lead. Bilal had a stratagem up his sleeves for getting me in. The conversation that followed is one of the weirdest and most comic I have had in Kashmir.
The men asked Bilal about nature of the visit. Bilal’s explanation, ‘This here with me is a Sahib who has come from very far to see the monument.’
One of the men asked, ‘Where has he come from?’
‘He has come all the way from Germany.’
A hysterical laugh almost escaped from my throat, a smile that on reaching my lips converted into an awkward smile.
The man stared at me.
‘Germany?’
‘Yes, from Germany. To write a book. Like the angreez do.’
I tried to look as German as I could and hide what I thought my obvious Kashmiriness. My smile disappeared and I looked glum and serious, like a man ashamed of past. That should have done it. But the next query from the man foiled Bilal’s plot and had me stumped.
‘Is he a Christian or a Jew?’
I burst out laughing when I heard the question. I exclaimed, ‘But, I was a local’.
The man looking terribly confused and turing to Bilal asked, ‘You said he is foreign.’
In a last-ditch attempt, Bilal tried to explain it away, ‘He is foreign. But living here. Like lot of angreez do. Please let us in. Just for five minutes.’
Stratagem fell apart.
‘You need to get written permission from the trust that runs this place.’
The plot was obviously flawed from the beginning. Even Bilal with his copper hair had a higher chance for passing off as a German. But apparently, this is the most obvious method that tourists try at this place to get inside. I was told you had a higher chance of getting in if you are not a Kashmiri. You may get in if you are foreigner, or even if you are from some other part of India, but not if you are from Kashmir.
I looked at the iron railings more carefully. Some of them had their lower ends bent to create sort of a holes in the wall. The holes had obviously been made by random tourists so one could stick a camera lens in and get a clear shot of the shrine. Walls that history creates is often accompanied by holes that people create to subvert the walls
I too took my camera, stuck it into one of the holes and let it see Madin Sahib as it is.
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15th November, 2014
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Beast as drawn by W. H. Nicholls in his Muhammadan architecture in Kashmir by Mr. W. H. Nicholls for ‘Archaeological Survey of India Report 1906-7’ [uploaded here] Digitally distorted copy as made available by Digital Library of India |
Sagittarius in Persian astrological treatise from 9th century, ‘Kitâb al-Mawalid’ by Abu Ma’shar al-Balkhi Also known as ‘The Book of Nativities’ or ‘The Book of Revolution of the Birth Years’. One of the most influential works from Islamic astrology |
Sagittarius on the entrance to the bazaar of Esfahan source |
Prataap Patrose, Aga Khan Visual Archive, MIT source |
The actual sketch of the beast by W. H. Nicholls in 1905 |
A color version I tried to create using GIMP. Color palette based on description by Nicholls and of the tiles at Victoria and Albert Museum. |
The missing pieces Sagittarius tile not given in the sketch of Nicholls at SPS Museum November 2014 The cations for the display of course don’t tell you the story of the tile -0- |
Further read and references:
Slaves of the Shah: New Elites of Safavid Iran (2004) edited by Sussan Babai
In 1926, a British woman, Eve Orme, accompanied her husband on a shikar trip to Ladakh. It was unusual back then for a ‘memsahib’ to accompany a sahib on a hunting trip to Ladakh. Usually the men would go hunting to Ladakh while their women would lounge in Srinagar. Something that Orme considered ordinary holiday of ordinary woman. She wanted something more. An escape from ordinary.
In around 1945, while Britain was still a war zone, writing this ‘Magic Mountain’ from here personal diaries proved to be an escape from the harsh realities of World War two.
“I am at home in London with its dusty look of war-weariness; its battered, razed buildings, and its steadfast calm.
A woman passes me in Bond Street, leaving a whiff behind her of what is perhaps her last drain of expensive French scent, minty and aromatic. How strange that after eighteen years, in the heart of this island fortress, an evanescent trail of perfume should still take me back so swiftly to Ladakh. That it should remind me of the cheerful, grinning faces of our ponymen, of Rahim, who wrote though a “munshi” some years after our arrival in England, “My body is in the East, but my eyes and heart, Memsahib, turn always to the West.” The ache to be on the road is in my heart again as I think of the mountain, peace, and that almighty silence.”
Interesting bits:
Ladakhis staging a skit in about the sahibs visiting their land. They make fun of the fact that Kashmiris are not great mountaineers.
In Ladakh, Eve Orme met novelist Martin L Gompertz, famous as ‘Ganpat’. Ganpat went to write about his experience of the trip in ‘Magic Ladakh’ (1928).
Eve Orme also met a French woman named Mlle La Fougie who was travelling alone in the region looking for Ladakhi paintings.
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Archive.org Link
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Camps near Dal |
Camp dwellers. Most of the government camps look empty. People mostly stay with relative with a nominal person staying in the camp the mark his presence, expecting relief. People on radio sound angry about the way damage is being assessed and relief being handed out. |
Clearing silt from the ghat near Fateh Kadal foot bridge |
Not wishes tied to the walls of a shrine Polythene and rubbish brought in by water stuck to the Mesh panel of a little garden by the ghat |
Soaked ancient brickwork of a house along the river |
After two weeks under fifteen feet of water Dead plants in a private garden along Nageen lake A positive side effect of the flood has been that the markets are flush with vegetables of great quality. |
A roadside stall offering flood infested material for sale. |
The level at SPS museum along Bund road |
Level of water inside the museum Knees of the deity I was told, most of the damage to display material has been to the papermache works. With about 2% almost of them gone. |
Soaked old journals inside the Library of the museum |
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“Over the years, I started coming across photographs of the place in old travelogues. Having never been to the place, the sight of the place in an old book became a thing of little joy for me. Earlier this year when I visited Srinagar, the thought of finally visiting the place did occur to me, but it was winter, the water levels were low, it would not have been a pretty sight, I told myself, ‘Next time when the water levels are higher.’
This old building is now gone, destroyed in the flood of September 2014.”
A page from ‘This is Kashmir’ (1954) by Pearce Gervis. |
Aabi Guzar
Water Way Octroi
Francis Brunel, 1977
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Finally visited the place on November 18th.
innards |
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Image: ‘Kashmiri belle’ by Gladstone Solomon, 1922. Gladstone Solomon was the principal of Bombay school of art from 1919 to 1936. |
Payaam daadam nazdiike aan but-e-kashmir
Ke zeere halqaye zulfat dilam charaast asiir
Juwab dad, kin deewanuh shood dili too zi ushuq,
I sent a message to that Cashmerian idol, Why is my heart held
captive under the curl of your ringlets? She answered, Because
your heart is distracted with love; and the madman is not suffered
to appear abroad without a chain.
~ unnamed Persian poet.