Lal Ded once entered a temple in which her spiritual guru, Sidh, was worshipping the idols. She wanted to show to him that God was present everywhere and was not limited to the temple. Sidh asked her what she had come for and she told him that she wanted to answer the call of nature, and being naked she came into the temple for privacy. He hastily led her out telling her that it was a place where idols were worshipped and it would be sacrilegious to do in it what she intended to. She asked him to show her a place where there were no idols. He led her to a place and there Lal Ded removed some earth under which idols were found. The he led her to another place and there too she removed the earth and idols were found. The Lal Ded addressed to him:-
Diva wata diver wata
Heri bun chhuh ikawat
Puz kas karak huta bhatta
Kar manas pavanas sangat
Soi shela chhai patas tah pithas
Soi shela chhai utam desh
Soi shela chhai pheravanis gratas
Shiv chhui kruth tai tsen upadesh
Idol is of stone, temple is of stone;
Above (temple) and below (idol) are one;
Which of them wilt thou worship, O foolish Pandit?
Cause thou the union of mind and soul.
The same stone is in the road and in the pedestal:
The same stone is the sacred place:
The same stone is the turning mill;
Shiva is difficult to be attained, take a hint for guidance (from thy guru)
~ ‘Life Sketch of Laleshwari – A Great Hermitess of Kashmir’
In Indian Ocean, on an island,
the Persian built a stone home.
They called it Zanzibar.
Ace of Spade is the highest card in a deck of cards.
In Zanzibar, they call Ace of Spade:
Kashmir
How far is Zanzibar from Kashmir?
In winters, there’s a little bird that flies all the way from Kashmir,
over Kerala, to Sri Lanka.
At both the places, they say, it steals cotton.
In Kashmir they call it:
Fhambaseer
When the British first arrived in Hindustaan,
and started collecting the tongues
for their grammars and dictionaries,
Weird world. Back then someone in Austria had even made a postal stamp out of the photograph of a Pandit woman profiled by Fred Bremner. In 1921, the image was mislabelled as that of a ‘Boatwoman’ by National Geographic.
Goddess of Dance, Indrani 7th Century, Kashmir Sri Pratap Museum This Goddess of Dance, Indrani 7th Century, Kashmir Sri Pratap Museum
This one was came from Badamibagh in 1926. About 20 other were found in Pandrethan between 1923 and 1933 while digging of military barracks were going on in the area. More than 500 relics were found. Now not much remains.
Kashmiri Dancing Girl at Shalimar
photograph by Herford Tynes Cowling,
for National Geographic Magazine, October 1929.
Vyjayanthimala in Amrapali inserted into a comic panel based on story of Hamsavali from Somadeva’s Kathasaritsagara. Somadeva, son of Brahman Rama, composed the Kathasaritasagara (between 1063 and 1081) for Queen Suryavati, daughter of Indu, the king of Trigarta (Jalandhar). She was the wife of King Anantadeva, who ruled Kashmir in the eleventh century. The story of Suryavati, Ananta, Kalsa and Harsha is perhaps the gruesomest tale from Rajatarangini that ends with Anata killing himself by sitting on a dagger and Suryavati going ablaze.
Line of Majrooh Sultanpuri (1919 − 2000) delivered (in a bombastic manner) by Dev Anand in Teen Devian (1965). The scene has a mushaira held on a houseboat in Srinagar. Majrooh was last of the great urdu poets claimed by film world as a lyricist.
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Poplar Avenue From Francis Frith’s album. Around 1850s to 1870s. via: Victoria and Albert Museum.
Kashmir was my paradise, for the work was a constant pleasure. But in a way it unfitted me for the life outside paradise, and though I have had the happiest chances and the most delightful experiences since I left the happy valley, I always compare my life now with my life then, and nothing has rivalled Kashmir. When the Kashmiris weave their lovely carpets they always leave one thing undone, for their religion teaches them that nothing done by man must be perfect. I finished my work in the valley, but there was a tract of beautiful country not belonging to the State which I had promised to “settle,” and when the end came I left this unsettled. And now year by year I have a vivid dream that the boat is ready and that all my plans are made. I have chosen my best men for this last piece of work, have sent on my tents and supplies, and am going to make no mistake this time, and the map and the settlement of the land shall be perfect. But I always wake before my boatmen shout “Yo pir” and make the boat tremble with the strong stroke of the heart-shaped paddles, and I know that if the boat ever does start, it is “finis,” or as the Moslems write on their tombs, “Khatm“.
~ ‘The India We Served’ (1928), Walter Rooper Lawrence.
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By a singular coincidence, this chance halting-place under the chinars of Panzin, brought me also across the foot-prints of another man whose name is engraved upon the history of Kashmir. For as the evening grew the Village Headman came and sat by the brook, and conversed about his fields.
“Sir,” he said, “since Laren we have had great peace. He came walking along this very road on his way to Wangat, and I stood before him, thus, with folded hands, and said :
‘”Huzoor, here is great zulm; yon field is mine, but another from the next village, who has friends at court, has stolen it from me.’
“And Laren said, ‘What is your name ? ‘ and I said Sobhana, the son of Futto and he put it down in his note book ; and then he said:
“‘What is the name of your field ? ‘”
“and I laughed and said, ‘ Huzoor, they call my field Bamjoo.'”
“And he put that also in his book, but said no more and took his way ; and lo ! in the fullness of days when the Settlement was accomplished, my field was given back to me, and Justice was done.”
” And who was Laren ? ” I enquired —
” Laren,” he replied, ” was the great Sahib who made the Settlement ; the friend of all Zemindars. Since his time a deep confidence has settled upon our hearts. It was he who said ‘ O Wise Ones do not part with your lands for they will one day become gold.’
~ The Charm of Kashmir’ (1920) by V.C. Scott O’connor
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“I saw the Mullah step with great dignity into the ferry boat: I saw the boatman prostrate himself, as had the crowd bowed down as he passed along. He was a man of about fifty, clad in white, and when we met by my tent I noticed that, though his face was austere and ascetic, his eyes had a twinkle in them. We sat down for some time in absolute silence, and without any order on my part everyone went to a respectful distance. Then he spoke in good clear Hindustani. He had heard from his people of my work, and though I and my officials through our ignorance had made many mistakes, and though at first he had thought we should fail, he now had some hope that we should succeed. He had been told of my collision with Colonel Natha, and that I had vowed that if he remained in the State service I would resign. He was pleased that I had kept my vow, and it was for this that he and his people trusted me. “But,” he added, “you must be careful. Careful of the hate of the city and the officials, and careful not to free my people too quickly. They are under the curse and are well called the worshippers of oppression. For if they become absolutely free and careless of their rulers, they will be lazy and improvident. And one other matter you have taken on yourself affairs that do not belong to you.”
~ ‘The India We Served’ (1928), Walter Rooper Lawrence, the Land settlement officer in Kashmir from 1889 to 1895.
