From: ‘Sport and travel in the Far East’ (1910) by J. C. Grew.
Entrance to Sonamarg Gorge
The Great Flood of 1903 in Kashmir. A Kashmiri poet of that time named Hakim Habibullah went on to write a work titled ‘Sylab Nama’ based on this natural calamity.
For short diminutive women of my grandmother’s generation. Most things in this world do have a clear reason.
In school we all must have read about Vitamin D, its relation with sunlight and how lack of it causes Rickets and Osteomalacia. What we not told in school books is how these simple associations were arrived at and how Kashmir, its socio-environmental conditions, played a vital part in human understanding of this biological association.
In 1920s, a Superintendent of H.H. Maharajah of Yammu & Kashmir’s Diamond Jubilee Zenana Hospital, obstetrician Kathleen Olga Vaughan noticed an interesting phenomena among Kashmiri women. She found that women of rich high-born families were more likely to develop weak bones as compared to poor women of boatmen tribe. Kathleen Vaughan was able to deduct a reason for this strange phenomena. She linked it to diet, place, season, to the presence of veil and to the lack of sunlight.
These were some of her observations:
There is a marked seasonal incidence; the disease is worse in winter and early spring, during and after confinement to the house in the cold weather, and improves markedly during summer and autumn. A common history is that of confinement to the house at 8 or 9 years of age, marriage at 10 or 11, menstruation at 12 or 14, and close confinement in the husband’s house until after the first child is born; in the most high-class families the women hardly leave the house till they die. The ordinary woman has more freedom, and when she has borne two or three children she goes out with other women.
[…]
Purdah, which means a curtain, is used of the system which ensures the seclusion of the woman from all men except her husband and her brothers. It varies in strictness, and is much less strict in Kashmir than in India. In Kashmir it really only affects the women of marriageable and child-bearing age. Among the better classes they are more or less confined to the house.
Girls of 9 are not allowed out alone, and if brought to hospital are often closely veiled. The Hindus, who in theory do not observe this custom, do so in practice. The young girls from 8 or 10 to 15 rarely go out until married, and then not till after the birth of one or two children. Marriage takes place before puberty in many cases, because in order to ensure early marriage the younger the bride the less are the fees to the priests. One of the greatest sins a father can commit is not to have married his daughter at puberty. After marriage she is confined to her husband’s house, and her food and happiness depend entirely upon her mother-in-law, who often keeps her short of food, from an idea that she will have an easier confinement if the foetus is kept small by spare diet. It has been pointed out by other observers that much tuberculosis originates in these girls during the first year of married life owing to these miserable conditions.
[…]
The women wear but one garment and go out in the winter as little as possible. They live in the lowest rooms of the high wooden houses in the winter, so as to be on the same floor as the water supply and the fire.The ground floor is the warmest. The windows are sometimes less than half a yard square, and protected against thieves by being near the ceiling and closed by wooden lattice-work. All windows are so made, but on the upper floor are larger. In winter they are covered with oiled paper to keep out the cold. The minimum of available light is thus admitted, and some rooms, specially liked for warmth, have no window at all.
That the light supply is sufficient for health in all ordinary life is proved by the rarity of rickets and the healthiness of the boat women and the country women working in the fields, but a degree of seclusion which would have little effect on the plains of India produces osteomalacia in Kashmir. A photographer who lived for many years in Kashmir said that he always gave twice the exposure he would in England to get a good result in Kashmir, which looks as if the actinic rays might be deficient. most of the oblique rays of the sun in mid-winter are cut off by the mountains encircling the valley.
[…]
Anaemia and debility characterize pregnancy, with vague pains in the ribs, back, and legs, increasing until walking is difficult or impossible at term.
[…]
Anaemia is always present, and unfortunately is admired, as a fair complexion is considered as a sign of being well bred.
[…]
Rickets is not common in Kashmir. The few cases I have seen were in female children who had lost their mothers in infancy, belonged to wealthy Kashmiri families and had been kept indoors with the women, Usually even infants go out, and male infants are taken out by the men and boys to show to their friends when very young. A girl child is never made so much of.
[…]
The water of the river is considered sacred that it cannot be defiled. It can hardly be matter for surprise that everyone suffers from intestinal worms. Large round white ones are the commonest, and their leaving the body is often a sign of the impending death of a patient, as a house-surgeon with long Indian experience once pointed out to me.
[…]
There are three indigenous Kashmir cures for “trouble in the bones”: (1) a special clay called baramulla earth; (2) pills made of fish liver; (3) rubbing with mustard oil and exposing to sunlight.
1. Baramulla earth is a greyish-white fire-clay used for making fireplaces in wooden boats, and for portable fire-pots on which to cook food. A lump of this earth taken from a patient with osteomalacia, who ate pieces of it, was analysed for me by the Clinical Research Association, which reported that it was a ferruginous clay containing high percentage of calcium phosphate (calcium phosphate 16.2 per cent., ferric oxide 11.8 per cent., hydrated aluminium silicate (in clay) 71.2 per cent., and undetermined residue 0.8 per cent.). Sulphates were present to a very small extent. The radio-activity of the sample was not more than is usually found in any natural earth; arsenic and similar metals were not detected.
2. The fish-liver pills were sold by a Panditani (Hindu woman) living at the city fish market. She makes them herself. The analogy with cod-liver oil is interesting.
3. The mustard oil and sunlight cure is chiefly used by the men for their rheumatic pains.
[…]
Sunlight alone can cure the disease, and cod-liver oil without sunshine is of very little use.
[…]
Many when pregnant are suckling one or two previous children. A man in Srinagar once said to me:”The reason I am so small is that when I was a baby my elder brother took all my mother’s milk because he was a strong boy; and then my mother had another baby and gave her mild to him, so I got none” – a common history.
From ‘Osteomalacia in Kashmir’ by Kathleen Olga Vaughan, for British Medical Journal, 1926 March 6. Via: US National Library of Medicine. A more detailed study on the subject was later published by her titled ‘The purdah system and its effect on motherhood : osteomalacia caused by absence of light in India’ by (Cambridge : W. Heffer, 1928).
One of the response of British to the events of 1857 was to try and better categorize the people they ruled. They went around with their cameras and shot all kind of natives, all tribes, castes, races, religions, belonging to places all across the length and breadth of this land and put them in books and added neatly brief captions to these photographs describing in brief the ‘must remember’ of each native type. All this in hope that it would help them govern these people and more importantly the land better. One of the gigantic product of such an exercise was the eight volume series titled ‘The People of India‘ published between 1868 and 1875. It’s a pretty plain book, a book of colonial pen. But it is a picture book. And a picture book is always interesting. Interestingly, there are essentially two type of tribals captured in this famous colonial work: those natives that were still tied to their heathen faith, all looking, well, tribal, and those that had crossed over to Christ, looking like they have just had a fresh scrubbing and headed straight for their study desk.
Anyway, from various volumes of ‘The people of India : a series of photographic illustrations, with descriptive letterpress, of the races and tribes of Hindustan’ (1868) by John William Kaye, Meadows Taylor, J. Forbes Watson, here are photographs of some of the Kashmiris that one could come across in India back then.
“Zahore Begum is a Cashmere Mussulmani, and follows the profession of a courtezan. As may be supposed, her charecter is not very respectable. She belongs to the Soonee sect of Mussulmans.
She has a very fair complexion, black hair and eyes; she wears a black silk dress and yellow shawl; a diamond ring on her left thumb, cloth shoes, embroidered with gold and set with precious stones, and her silver anklets have small bells attached to them.”
“Aftab Rae, like Ramnarain, is a Pundit, or expounder of the Hindoo scared books. He is a Brahmin of Cashmerian origin, but his family have lived at Lucknow for more than a century. He has himself resided in Allyghur and the neighbouring districts for nearly fifty years. Persons of this class are rarely to be met with in this part of Hindoostan. They are for the most part shrewd, clever, and designing. Their habits are migratory, generally seeking employment in the civil department under Government. They go any distance to obtain it. They are Brahmins by caste, and a keen-eyed, crafty race. Their food is mutton, fish, vegetables, and grain, but not beef; and they generally live to the age of seventy or eighty years. Aftab Rae is seventy years of age; his height is five feet six inches, complexion fair, hair and eyes grey.”
“The gentleman here represented is a fine specimen of his class, a secular Brahmin, in the service of Government. Well educated and liberal in their ideas, they are for the most part above the narrpw-minded and exclusive sectarianism of Brahmins of religious or priestly profession, and prove most intelligent and valuable public officers. The Pundit is, or was, tehsildar, or collector of revenue of the Roorkee district. He is a native of the valley of Cashmere; and as will be evident from the Photograph, his features are of the highest class of Aryan charecter – identical, in fact, with the European; and the difference between them, and those of other Brahmins represented in this work, will be at once evident on comparison. Pundit Jowalla Natli is a person of essentially European mind. He has mastered the English language, which he both writes and speaks with a fluency and correctness rarely attamed by a foreigner ; and his honorary title of Pundit could only be assumed upon a high standard of proficiency in the Sanscrit literature of his own country.
His costume is a richly embroidered robe or choga of Cashmere cloth, trimmed with fur, with an under vest of cloth. His trowsers and shoes are of Enghsh fashion, and the embroidered cap is perhaps an invention of his own, since it is not common among his people. Notwithstanding his English habits and manners, the Pundit preserves the rules of his own caste inviolate; while he, and his class generally, are free from those gross superstitions and idolatrous observances, which are followed by Brahmins of other and less enlightened professions. There is no doubt that educated natives of India, in the class to
which the Pundit belongs, are increasing in numbers and in influence ; but they can do little as yet, perhaps, to affect the ignorance and bigotry of their countrymen. “
Cashmiri From Cashmere. Mussulman. Simla.
[from Volume 4]
“MAHOMEDAN merchants from Cashmere are very commonly met -with at Simla, and, indeed, in all the northern stations of India. They bring shawls, scarves, embroidered cloths, and other local manufactures for sale, as well as dried fruits, which are readily disposed of. The costume of the Cashmiris differs from that of ordinary Mahomedans of India. Instead of the tight and often ungraceful tunic, the garment shown in the Photograph, which is called chogha, is almost universally worn, especially in winter. The best are made of soft serge, or cloth, woven from the fine wool of the shawl goat, and the natural colours, brown, grey, or white, are preserved. These garments are frequently handsomely embroidered on the chest and shoulders, as also down the back, by silk or woollen braid in remarkably chaste patterns; and there is no class of Cashmere manufacture, perhaps, which more perfectly exhibits the exquisite taste of the artizans of the country, than these embroideries. They are never in varied colours, and the best effects are produced by braids in monotone, crimson upon white, dark grey upon light grey, and other combinations. These manufactures, both in shawls, scarves, cloaks, and even choghas, are now becoming known in Europe, and are to be found for sale in the shops of London and Paris shawl merchants; while in the beautiful collections of the India Museum, many specimens of the finest descriptions of work can be examined by those interested in Indian productions.
The Mahomedans of Cashmere are in no wise different from their brethren of Northern India. They are, for the most part, Soonnies, and have a strong admixture of Aftghan blood; but, as a rule, they are not a military class, nor have they ever been remarkable for the military spirit so abundantly displayed by Mahomedans elsewhere. They are, however, a fine, handsome race of people, and their women, who have not unfrequently fair, ruddy complexions, are esteemed very beautiful — the Circassians, as it were, of India. Since the sale of Cashmere to Golab Sing, the Rajah of Jummoo, by Sh H. Hardinge, in 1846, the oppressive character of the local administration has induced many of the shawl weavers and embroiderers to leave their native country, and settle in the northern cities of India ; and in most of them, colonies of native Cashmiris have been established, which subsist upon the manufacture of articles in local estimation; but the shawls have not the softness or beauty of those produced in Cashmere, and the best articles produced are perhaps the embroidered shawls, scarves, and choghas, before alluded to.
Cashmere was originally an independent Mahomedan kmgdom, but was conquered and attached to the imperial dommions by the Emperor Akbur in 1587, and was used by him and by his successors as a place of retreat from the summer heats of India. It passed from the Mahomedan rule to that of the Sikhs in 1818, and remained in then- possession till its sale to the Rajahs of Jummoo. Could the entire possession of the Punjab have been foreseen, it is not improbable that the beautiful valley might now have been a British province. “
-0- Some shawl bearers:
Diljan. Bazar woman. Saharunpoor.
[from Volume 3]
“Diljan, the “heart of life,” is like Wuzeerun, a Mahomedan courtezan. Her dress is black tunic, black silk trowsers, and Cashmere shawl.”
Wuzeerun. Bazar woman. Mahomedan. Saharunpoor.
[from Volume 3 ]
“THIS photograph represents a Mahomedan bazar woman, or professional courtezan. Her dress is a yellow tunic, green silk trowsers, and red Cashmere shawl. There is little to be said for women of this class, who exist under many denominations all over India, and the nature of their profession debars description of them. Many are dancing women, Mahomedans as well as Hindoos. They can never contract real marriage, though some of them avail themselves of the form ” Nika,” under the Mahomedan law, the offspring of which is legitimate, though in a secondary degree. In such cases those married and secluded become honourable women. Public coutezans are devoted by their families to the profession from their early youth ; and, on attaining a fit age, they are married to a dagger, or a tree, with all the ceremonies of a real marriage. This custom obtains as well among Hindoos as Mahomedans. Many of the great Hindoo temples have bands of courtezans attached to them, who are maintained by the revenues of the establishment, and who follow then trade without public shame. It is a strange anomaly that, while a courtezan, born of, or adopted into, a courtezan family, is not held to pursue a shameless vocation, other women who have fallen from good repute are esteemed disgraceful. The practice of purchasing children to be instructed as courtezans was commonly practised some years ago, even in British territories, and is frequent at the present time in those of native Princes; but the stringent nature of the laws existent under the British rule against all practice of slavery, however it may be disguised, prevents any open violation of them, and the customs formerly existent can hardly now escape punishment. “
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“We had, as usual, only the very vaguest idea of what Srinagar was going to be like. We knew that it was often referred to, in the tourist world, as ‘the Venice of the East’, and we knew the name of the principal hotel. ‘Very decent sort of place,’ everyone had said; ‘they’ll make you comfortable there.’ We imagined a small dining-room where half a dozen officers on leave propped Punch against the cruet.
Presently we struck the main road, metalled and straight. Notices in English flicked past in the headlights. ‘Srinagar’ said the driver, waving his hand towards the suddenly constellated darkness ahead of us; and soon we honked into crowded streets. ‘Escape Me Never’ said a hoarding, speaking aptly enough for civilization; the names of Bergner and of Beery figured largely. Srinagar was much bigger than we had imagined it.
So was the hotel. Its imposing portals loomed up and abashed us. Painfully conscious of uncouthness, of dusty clothes and blackened faces, we entered almost surreptitiously; and saw at once that we had chosen a bad moment to do so. People were gathering in the lounge for dinner. Alas for out vision of the little dining-room. the Punches propped informally! Everyone was in evening dress. Anglo-India, starched and glossy, stared at us with horror and disgust. A stage clergyman with an Oxford voice started as though he had seen the devil. A hush, through which on all sides could be heard the fell epithet ‘jungly,’ descended on the assembled guests. We were back in Civilization.”
~ News from Tartary: A Journey from Peking to Kashmir (1936) by Peter Fleming. For those who don’t know Peter Fleming was the younger brother of famous Ian Fleming of James Bond fame.
Noor Jahan built a Masjid in Srinagar near Zaina Kadal opposite Shah Hamdan mosque.. Unlike other Majids in Kashmir the time, this Masjid was made of stone or Pathar, and hence came to be known as Pathar Masjid. The story goes that on completion of the Mosque, a Mulla asked her 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.
Now, here is another story of a Jooti response from another place, another time, another precious and same context. From history of Koh-i-noor told by Erich von Schonberg in ‘Travels in India and Kashmir’ (1853):
After a long chapter of accidents, the koh-i-noor was brought to Lahore in 1812, by Schah Schujah, when he sought the protection of Runjeet Singh. Runjeet had heard a great deal of the stone, and though he was no judge of jewels, he earnestly desired the possession of this one, and was determined to leave no means untried to gratify his wishes.
Wuffa Begum, the wife of Schah Schujah, lived at Schadirah. Runjeet sent to demand the jewel of her, but she declared that she had it not.
This answer did not satisfy the Sikh ; he ordered that all her jewels should be seized, and brought to Lahore. Many of these were of such great beauty, that Runjeet believed that the koh-i-noor must be amongst them ; but having afterwards discovered his error, he ordered the begum to be closely watched. Nobody was allowed to go in or out of her palace without being searched ; and Runjeet let her know that nothing would satisfy him but the possession of the koh-i-noor.
The begum sent him a beautiful ruby. This stone exceeded in splendour anything the maha-rajah had ever seen, and he now believed that he really beheld the koh-i-noor. But as he was himself unable to estimate the value of jewels, he sent for a man who was conversant in such things, and who besides had seen the great “mountain of hght.” The Sikh displayed befere the connoisseur a great number of jewels, and asked which of these was the koh-i-noor? The man replied that the koh-i-noor was not amongst these stones, and that all he saw there were insignificant, compared with that great gem.
‘Shoes including Kashmiri shoes of green leather’
from Provincial geographies of India (1913)
Runjeet’s anxiety to possess this treasure was now greater than ever. He tried what starvation could do, but the begum endured the trial unmoved. He then changed his mode, and tried persuasion and arguments. The begum promised to give the koh-i-noor, if her husband, who was then imprisoned at Lahore, should be set free. This was done, but some other conditions of the agreement were left unfulfilled. Runjeet demanded the jewel; the begum said that it had been pledged to a merchant in Kandahar. This was an evasion. Starvation was again tried, but in vain. New severities were about to be exercised, when the Schah promised that on a certain day, the koh-i-noor should be delivered to Runjeet Singh.
The day appointed for this important transfer was the 1st of June, 1813. The maha-rajah came to the place of meeting, accompanied by some trusty friends, nor did he forget to bring connoisseurs, to whose inspection the jewel should be submitted. When the Sikhs entered the hall where the schah and his friends were assembled, mutual greetings were exchanged,after which a death-like stillness prevailed. An hour passed in this manner, when Runjeet, who was impatient, made a sign to one of his friends, intimating a desire that he should remind the schah of the object of his visit. The schah made a signal to a slave, who retired, and returned in a few minutes with a little packet which he laid on the carpet, at an equal distance from the maha-rajah and the schah. Having done this, he returned to his place, and all were again silent. There is no saying how long the company might have remained mute, if Runjeet had not made a sign to one of his adherents, who, rising, lifted the packet, unfolded the wrappings, and revealed the koh-i-noor.The precious gem was recognised by those who had come for that purpose, and the maha-rajah was satisfied. Delighted at the sight of this splendid prize, he turned to the schah, and inquired what the stone was worth. The answer was, “Djuty.”
Selling ‘Gola Boots’ at Lal Chowk, Srinagar
This word djuty has many significations. It means shoes, and is used in India to express the infliction of a disgraceful and deserved punishment. “I will give thee shoes,” ” I will beat thee with shoes,” is a threat that implies the utmost contempt. Besides this, djuty, or dhjuty, has other meanings, which may be expressed by a slight difference in the pronunciation. In one sense, it implies lies, deceit, disgrace, treachery, insult, mockery, jesting. In another sense the word signifies war, battles, &c.”
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A description of the mosque is provided by Godfrey Thomas Vigne, an English traveller who visited Kashmir in 1835. In his book ;Travels in Kashmir, Ladak, Iskardo, the Countries Adjoining the Mountain-Course of the Indus, and the Himalaya, north of the Panjab with Map’ (1844), he 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.”
If on a Jammu bound train you have run into people who ask you if it is going to be cooler once the train reaches Jammu, if they are going to see snow, the mountains, the lakes, the rivers, if your answer has always been a mad laugh, read this blunder of a passage from ‘India, pictorial and descriptive’ (1888) by William Henry Davenport (1828-1891):
“The capital of Kashmir is situated on the Towi, a tributary of the Chenab. It is a place of considerable trade, communication with the riverine district being maintained by water. The Kashmir boatmen are a strong and hardy race, and manage their clumsy craft with much dexterity.”
Female, Swimsuits and Swimmers. Another thing missing in contemporary images of Kashmir.
I came across this photograph in ‘Guide to Kashmir’, a tourist brochure published by The Tourist Traffic Branch, Ministry of Transport New Delhi, 1954.
England born Miss Edna Bellefontaine called Kashmir her home. She lived in houseboats, hiked through Himalayas (once even spent a night in a sacred high cave, which one we don’t know, she even claimed to be the first white woman to ever enter the Kingdom of Nepal). Miss Edna painted all that she saw. And on some days she would put on a black wig and some native dress to do some exotic twist for the soon to depart royalty. For all that she earned a title: ‘Mata Hari of Kashmir’. But with a name like that, there could be no happy ending. Or did that name come up only later, as a minor footnote to an event in history. In 1953, after a meeting with General Ayub Khan of Pakistan, she was banished from the land of Kashmir. At gun point Mata Hari was ousted from her houseboat and sent packing to Delhi with her six trunks and two dogs where for some years she was charged with planning Kashmir’s sedition from India. For years she petitioned India and Pakistan to let her go back to her paradise. A similar fate was met with by a man who too had met the Gereral that day. Sheikh Abdullah. But Edna was to never return. In exile she became Mrs. Edna Bailey and wrote a book called ‘Externed from Paradise’. Hoping to teach Indian dancing in some college or university, in Trenton New Jersey, Mata Hari of Kashmir did the native dances for soldiers, the wealthy and women’s group.
In this extract from ‘Vignettes of Kashmir’ by E. G. Hull (1903), one can read about how Kashmir was introduced to Magic Lantern, one of the first image projectors invented, named Tamasha or spectacle by locals, and we can see how this magic of images was used in missionary work. On set of magic beliefs trying to replace another set of magic beliefs.
A village in the Valley
‘THERE are men and women feeling after God in Kashmir, as in every land, and it is worth
more than a day’s journey to light on one of these.
The lady doctor with her medicine chest, and I
with a magic lantern, had started for a tour in
the villages one bright spring day.
After pitching our tents and taking a hurried
meal, my companion spread her medicines on a
little table, and was soon surrounded by a modern
Pool of Bethesda crowd, whom the news of the
arrival of a lady doctor had brought together,
while I set out to visit in the neighbouring town.
The first house I went to was that of the
Chowdry, a state official. I was shown into the
sitting-room, where he sat upon a kind of dais,
with another man, whom I afterwards found
to be the family priest. Both men sat facing a
recess in the wall, the interior of which I could
not then see, but which I afterwards discovered
contained the hideous household god.
The Chowdry received me kindly, and a rug
was spread for me on a low table, disconnected
with the dais, on which of course, as a Christian,
I could not be allowed to sit. I was soon joined by the two women of the household, the Chowdry’s mother and wife.
Finding, from my conversation, that I was
a Christian teacher, the Chowdry expressed great
pleasure at my coming. He seemed an earnest
man, with but little belief in his own religion, yet
not content, like so many Indians, with being
without any religion at all ; and he said eagerly :
” God has shown you English people the way ;
come and show me the way, for I can nowhere
find it.” I was amazed at his frankness, especi-
ally before his priest, but perhaps the priest
himself, like others I have mentioned, was seeking “the way.” My heart yearns over the
priests, for I have a strong idea that many
would gladly relinquish their idol worship, were
it not that ” by this craft ” they get their living.
I spent some time in endeavouring to set forth
” the Way, the Truth and the Life ” to this little
household, all, including the priest, giving me
an attentive hearing. It was but one of many
conversations I had with the Chowdry, who made
a slight deafness in one of his ears the excuse for
a daily visit to our tent.
Having brought with us our magic lantern, we
were afterwards able to exhibit to a large audience
in his house, including more than one Hindu
priest, a fairly complete representation of the
principal events of our Lord’s life. It seemed
like a revelation to them. The women especially, sitting in front, gazed long, with folded hands
and heads bowed in reverence, at a beautiful
picture of the Babe of Bethlehem, saying afterwards to me with much emotion : ” Truly it
seemed as though God had Himself descended
into our house to-day ! ”
The Tamasha
The Tamasha, or spectacle, as people called our lantern, gained for us an audience everywhere,
besides that of the sick and suffering women, who
gathered round the lady doctor for treatment.
In one village, the chowkidar, or policeman,
was very helpful in many ways, and of his own
accord he sounded a gong for the women to leave
their various avocations to come and see.
A large upper room, used in winter for storing
provisions, but so far empty, with no aperture
through which the light could come but the door
and a window with a wooden shutter, enabled us
to show our lantern in the daytime, and so secure
a much better audience than we should in the
evening, as Kashmiris do not like going out at
night ; they have a strong belief that not only the
pestilence, but other mysterious things too,
“walk in darkness.” The long, low room was
densely packed from end to end, and as there was
no possible means of ventilation without letting
in the light, it was well we had no time to think
of the atmosphere !
The audience was entirely composed of Muhammadans, and the darkness gave some of them
courage to ask very intelligent questions.
It was a solemn moment, and an awed silence
fell on all as a picture of the Crucifixion was
thrown on the sheet. It was the one known as
” The Marble Cross,” in which the dying Saviour
is alone represented. We did not break the silence
by any explanations, but allowed them for a
moment to sit still in the presence of the Crucified
One.
But awe grew into something like enthusiasm
as we passed from Death to Resurrection and
Ascension. One could hardly have believed it to
be a Muhammadan audience.
” There will be one more picture,” I said, ” but
we cannot show it as yet.” I was referring to the
Coming in Glory, but, ere I could explain my
meaning, I was interrupted by a young man, who
from the first manifested very great interest. He
now sprang to his feet, exclaiming: ” We must see
it now, we must see all.” When he allowed me
to resume what I was saying, I told them that we
could not show them that picture, but that God
would, because it was written: ” Behold, He
Cometh with clouds, and every eye shall see Him.”
Yet even this promise scarcely satisfied them
that we had not the picture of that awful Advent
somewhere concealed.
Our lantern has told its story to many a strange
audience. We have shown it to the sister of the Amir of Kabul and her household, to a Dogra
official of high standing and his household, and to
the family and servants of one of the Kashmiri rais or nobility, as well as to the poor sick ones in
the dispensary, so that eye as well as ear may
drink in the message of salvation.
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I am using the above given extract as a postscript to a story shared by my Uncle Roshan Lal Das. On the surface it tells of the comic coming of Lantern to Kashmir. The story could have been a skit performed by Bhands of Kashmir. It could be the remnant of the above given story.
LALTEN SAHAB
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Long ago, a news spread in our ancestral village Harmain that one Lalten Sahib had arrived in Kashmir. Lalten Sahib was described as a beast with a fiery belly burning with hell fire. The affects of this news would be felt all over the valley. The news were spreading fast. The people in Harmain heard that Lalten Sahib had reached Srinagar and was now moving towards Shopian. They heard that he would soon their village too and bring the the fires of hell upon them.
So one dark evening all the villagers assembled under a walnut tree. The village’s head ‘Moulvi’ started addressing them, encouraging and consoling them alternatively. He said “My dear village brothers, we know, Lalten, the scourge of God has reached shopian and any time he can descend in Harmian.’
Silencing a flutter of exclamation sighs from a listless and restless crowd, in a pitch higher he added, ‘However we should have faith in Allah, who will help us destroy Lalten. He will help us overcomie this hour of museebat. However, we should prepare ourselves for a fight. Everyone should arm. Carry an axe,shovel, spade or even a sickle.’
Dusk turned to night and the Moulvi carried on his sermons. When it seemed he would carry on well into the morning, suddenly he stopped in the middle of a sentence about how men had brought on this curse upon themselves by their violations against God’s word, he became tongue tied, he face froze in fear, it seemed like the meaning of his own words had dawned upon him, like he was contemplating on his life of misdemeanors, like he was about to tells the truth now, but when he finally spoke, the only words that came out just before he passed off, were: ‘Run for your life, Lalten is here’. The peasants scrammed here and there and finally nestled inside the mosque whose doors were now tightly bolted. One of the faithfuls had carried the Moulvi on his shoulders and into the mosque. The shivering peasants sat praying loudly, their backs swaying back and forth. Some of them wailed and occasionally asked Allah aloud as to why they were being punished for no fault of theirs. The moulvi regained consciousness. All of them asked him in one voice, ‘Moulvi Sahib, Moulvi Sahib,What did you see Moulvi Sahib?’
Having regained his senses, his fear of hell fire partly dowsed by a tumbler of water that was splashed on his face, the survivor replied:
‘Don’t’ ask my beloved brothers and sisters. Don’t ask. I can still see its fire. It was the devil himself. One of the darkest figures I have ever seen. Just behind you, it was moving in from the bushes. A fire of hellish hue was emanating from its belly. Only a miracle can now save us from Lalten. Pray my dear brothers. Pray. It may well be our Judgement day.’ With this everyone around him began crying.
Hours ago, the news of a potentially dangerous gathering in Harmain had reached the local Naib-Tehsildar stationed in a nearby village. Armed with his the newly acquired official Lalten, the Lantern, or Hurricane lamp or Angrez log, he had rushed with his assistants towards Harmian. Arriving in the village from a clearing in the fields, they were greeted by commotions and pandemonium bought on something that they failed to fathom.
When they finally convinced the villagers to unbolt the door of the mosque and to let them in, the officer and his men were flabbergasted to see the wailing peasants. Something terrible must have happened, they thought. But when they were bombarded with queries about Lalten Sahib, the visiting party had a hearty laugh. In the darkness, the Moulvi had mistaken the lantern in Tehsildar’s hand for the fire emanating from devil’s belly. The proud owners of the Lalten Sahib went on to show a practical demonstration of how to control the fire in the devil’s belly. The peasants finally understood the working of Laten Sahib and laughed sheepishly over their own stupidity.
The valley of Kashmir was not electrified till 1930s. Until then People used torches (mashaal).The wooden staff with cloth was laced with natural volatile oils. The city folks used earthen lamps. Kerosene lamps were used by richer families and foreign tourists.
