When the Mughals arrived in Kashmir in 16th century, in their early writings we see them looking at it as a mythical land where the locals tell of many miraculous tales surrounding various sites riddled all across the valley as manifestations of God’s existence. They tell of miraculous springs whose waters appear, disappear, boil at will, they tell of caves with no end, they tell of mountain passes that bow to command of holy men, streams that were commanded into existence by saints and they talk about ice pole in a cave based on movement of moon. Kashmir was the land of “Hairat”/surprise.
Abu’l Fazl (1551–1602) in Akbar’s time writes in his Ain-e-Akbari about Amarnath:
Between Great Tibet and the above-mentioned parganah [Dachchhinparah,the territory along the right bank of the Liddar river] is a cave in which is an image in ice called Amar Nat. It is considered a shrine of great sanctity. When the new moon rises from her throne of rays, a bubble as it were of ice is formed in the cave which daily increases little by little for fifteen days till it is somewhat higher than two yards, of the measure of the yard determined by His Majesty [about 4.8 feet]; with the waning moon, the image likewise begins to decrease, till no trace of it remains when the moon disappears. They believe it to be the image of Mahadeva and regard it as a means (through supplication) of the fulment of their desires. Near the cave is a rill called Amraoti, the clay of which is extremely white. They account it auspicious and smear themselves with it. The snows of this mountainous tract nowhere melt, and from the extreme cold, the straitness of the defiles and the rough inequalities of the road, they are surmounted with great toil.
(Ain-i-Akbari of Abul Fazl Vol . II , p . 360)
In a Mughal painting [with Aga Khan Museum, tagged MUGHAL MEN ADMIRING THE MIRACULOUS ICE LINGAM AT AMARNATH”] from around 1600 (or later) painted in Agra we see a visual depiction of Abul Fazl’s text.
While we can see the expression of surprise on the faces on men, oddly, here the moon is replaced by sun. In the note to the painting at Aga Khan museum it is assumed the sun is meant to alude the summers when the pilgrimage to shrine begins (in fact it starts in the rainy season at end of summer). I believe the sun in this painting (and the absence of cave) is an attempt by the unknown painter to provide a “rational” explanation for the phenomena. In that sense, the painting essentially has the same function as the footnote to Amarnath section in English translation by Jarrett of Fazl’s work. There the modern reader is told in note that the ice lingam – “The ice bubble was doubtless a stalacite”. [The translator was making a guess. We now know that it is infact a stalagmite, as it grows from floor and not the roof.] Just like the english translator had the need to explain the miracle, perhaps the Mughal painter too was reading the text and trying to explain how the ice bubble could decrease in size. His explanation: the sun was melting the ice while the people just looked at miracle with awe and surprise.
Surprise and its relation with Amarnath can be seen in another painting centuries apart drawn in Kashmiri school of painting. By this time Hairat – Surpise, had come part of local lore of Herath as Shivratri (when infact Herath the festival is Hararatri)
-0-
An early exploration on theme of meeting of two different forms of “faithfuls” in Akbar era painting. The Hindu way was still strange, but it was being understood and even adopted in part. A Sufi with a dog. A brahmin on way to Somnath [which had already been destroyed and rebult, destroyed again and rebuilt again by 13th century in which lived Khusrau]. By painter Basawan. The story of Brahmin pilgrim also occurs in an early version of Laila Majnu.
Like for many of his generation, Sahib Ram Kaul’s exact date of birth is not known. What is known is that his father Dila Ram Kaul was revenue officer in the court of Maharaja Gulab Singh and lived in Anantnag. His mother was daughter of scholar Pandit Tika Lal Razdan of Srinagar. When his father died, Sahib Ram was only seven. His mother moved to Srinagar and that is where he grew and got his education. Sahib Ram eventually started his own family at Drabiyar, Srinagar.
Sometime after 1865 when Maharaja Ranbir Singh ascended the throne of Jammu and Kashmir, Sahib Ram Kaul, the best of Pandits of the time, the head of newly formed Sanskrit Mahavidyalaya was tasked with finding the old ancient texts of the place, in Sanskrit, Persian, Arabic, so that they could be placed in the library of the university for production of fresh scholarship. It was for this project that Sahib Ram Kaul procured various copies of Nilamatapurana and then finding them unsatisfactory, produced a critical edition that however was never published even as few decades later western scholars like Georg Bühler and Aurel Stein were to find Sahib Ram Kaul had shown which parts of Nilamatapurana had been used by Kalhana in Rajatarangini even as they at times disagreed with Sahib Ram’s approach. His work was to prove beneficial to these western men who arrived seeking glimpses of Kashmir past and it was widely accepted that Sahib Ram Kaul was the pinnacle of Kashmirian scholarship of his era.
What made Sahib Ram Kaul stand out was not just his skills of the languages (Sanskrit, Persian [he studied in a Persian language Maktab (school)] till the age of 18, picking up sanskrit only in adulthood) and his work on texts (ranging from shastras, kvyas, itihasa, commentary on erotica [Pañcasāyaka of by Kaviśekhara Jyotirīśvara], translation of work on Islamic morality [Ahalq-e Mohseni/Viraratnasekharasikha]) but his rooted understanding of geography of Kashmir in which he was able to visualize the past from present. The materialization of that vision of Sahib Ram Kaul was Kashmiriatirathasangrah, a work compiling all the major holy spots of Kashmir, mostly various nagas/springs all over the valley based on texts like Nilamatapurana, Kalhana’s Rajatarangini and Abu’l Fazl’s Ain-i-Akbari. Along with notes (in Sanskrit) Tirathasangrah had maps of the holy sites with topographical identifiers, local lore and village names. To compile the work, pandits across the valley were roped in to help collect the material. If there was a local spring or a holy village in some remote village, even that was recorded by Sahib Ram diligently. However, the work was never completed as Sahib Ram died in around 1870 or 72. The incomplete work already comprised hundred on pages of folia with maps, many of them incomplete, just sketched, not painted, some with no notes. The monumental work however was taken up again a few years later by his son Damodar Kaul
In 1875, when George Buhler arrived in Kashmir looking for Sanskrit manuscript, the “original” Rajatarangini and Nilamatapurana, he was directed to meet Sahib Ram’s son Damodar who was now the head of Sanskrit Mahavidyalaya. The visit triggered Damodar [who was working on continuing Kalhana’s Rajatarangini] to dwell into his father’s work. He again visited the locations mentioned by Sahib Ram in his maps, did a bit of digging at sites, probably to re-verify the claims of the text. The folios of Tirathasangrah got more notes. A copy was taken by Buhler to Poona. Decades later Stein for his translation and notes to Kalhana’s Rajatargini was to use the text to add notes to location of many (and many a) ancient sites like Sharda (which based on Sahib Ram’s work we find also existed at Khuyhom, Bandipore. Buhler probably informed by Damodar tells us it is at Horil in Khuyhom. Stein to add to that besides finding the actual Sharda, also tells us of a Sharda pilgrimage taken by Srinagar pandits to Harwan at a place called Sharda Kund ).
We find (and Stein mentions) that Pandits had forgotten the sites which were outside of valley, outside their area of influence, the “urban” areas, in the distant places, only lore, often mangled and jumbled, remained. They would visit holy sites, but often the origins were freshly re-invented. The limitation this brought about was noticed by Stein in Sahib Ram. Thus Stein who was trying to find the “true” meaning of texts, Sahib Ram’s work often proved too problematic. Centuries later, the work was summarised rather simplistically by political commentators as a political project of the Maharaja. A project to reclaim the Hindu past, ignoring the question if such a reclamation was needed by the community for survival.
The motivation of Sahib Ram Kaul in making the maps and studying the sites perhaps can be best understood by the fact that it was this man who pulled together the ruined pieces at top of Hari Parbat and reactivated the Chakreshwari Shrine. For Sahib Ram it was not just an academic project (like say for someone like Stein), instead, for Sahib Ram it was about putting back pieces and reclaiming. It was personal. When Stein notes that most Pandits didn’t know much of their own past, he is not wrong, and perhaps Sahib Ram was aware of that, and thus his project on the sites and history. It was a conscious effort by someone who could do something about it. It was not an act of some political vengeance as we can see that while executing his maps there is no erasure of islamic sites, the ziyarats. In fact, in the Maps, we find such monuments diligently shown in all their beauty. In Abul Fazal he must have read that in Kashmir valley there were 45 shrines dedicated to Shiva, 64 to vishnu, 3 to Brahma, 22 to Durga and around 700 nagas. In Sahib Ram’s time, in 1850s, although Pandits were again going on pilgrimages to sites like Tulamulla and Jwaladevi, the actual functional temples in Kashmir were not there yet. The temples that came up later and in this time were sites, which had lingered in memory, often people would bring broken discovered sculptures, place then at a site and worship. It was these sites that were verified by texts, sanctified by ruler, that gave birth to modern surviving functional temples in Kashmir. It was possible because of efforts of people like Sahib Ram. Yet, even today we find that most Kashmiri Pandits would be hard-pressed to make sense of the maps drawn by Sahib Ram. If Stein were to ask random Pandits today the same questions he asked them in 20th century, he would still conclude that they know little and have made up stories where the facts were missing, or that they have no interest. However, in all this it should be remembered that there has been no actual study of the work and few have actually seen the maps of Sahib Ram, fewer still even know about their existence, or even where it exists.
An original copy of Tirathsangrah was sold few years back on Bonhams. That told me the work did indeed exist (multiple copies?) and was in circulation.
About 250+ pages of maps from Tirathsangrah of Sahib Ram are at S.P.S Museum Srinagar (not on display!). A low-res digital version (with no proper details) was shared by them with National Mission on Monuments and Antiquities (NMMA), the (statewise) database for heritage, sites and antiquities.
Here, I am presenting some of the interesting maps from the collection, along with my notes on them.
Sahib Ram has given quite detailed maps of the hill. Covering all the sides of it. Important in the light of the fact that he was instrumental in rebuilding the Hari Parbat temple.
I witnessed this scene at Kochi Biennale in March, 2019. A girl was looking for her family house in an installation by Veer Munshi titled “Pandit Houses”. She called up someone on the phone and asked them if they recognized. She was hoping to see it there. It wasn’t. “All of them look similar”. I later talked to the girl and found that she had traveled from Chennai.
The actual installation had a display screen in center, in it a house burns on loop. Someone, visitor, it seems had stolen the display pad. So, you you had was houses.
“Homes don’t get demolished, they live inside us…Grid of 50 Photographs and Video on loop 5×7 inches each Veer Munshi’s “Pandit House” is an ongoing photographic archive. It presents the stark documentary evidence, without annotation or comment, of the erasure of the Kashmiri Pandit minority from the life of the Valley. This is the tragic outcome of a combination of factors: separatist violence and intolerance, the cynical indifference of the State, the breakdown of trust between communities. Presented without manipulation or theatricality, these houses and neighbourhoods, left behind by a community fleeing into exile, stand in our line of site as ruins, monuments, memorials. Munshi’s suite of photographs provides testimony to the unforgiving march of history, which takes no prisoners.”
That’s the on-site description of the installation. The text contextualized the work in reference to Kashmir, when it talks about “erasure of the Kashmiri Pandit minority from the life of the Valley”, with “life of valley” being the subject. However, in the video one can see what “Homes don’t get demolished, they live inside us” means and what weird thing the installation does to a subject. Even a sighting is a prossible celebrations. Reclaiming of a memory. And all of this, nothing to do with the actual physical thing – House.
-0-
Additional exhibits:
Hauntology by Veer Munshi. There was “power cut” at the time, so it came out all the more haunting. Dead turning into precious relics. More precious than life. Little collectables. Exhibits. Whole valley a mine. That’s what all the shine in the darkness of grave spoke to me.
text at the exhibit:
Veer Munshi
Hauntology
In his installation Relics from the Lost Paradise, the Kashmir-born artist Veer Munshi seems to literalize the dictum ‘History is Alive’. Both the reliquary and the coffin are repositories/ resting places for the dead, with the difference that one is configured to the task of animating/ remembrance, the other with that of putting wayl forgetting. While contact with the contents of the former, is deemed salubrious and hence desirable, the thought of exposure to the contents of a grave would engender abject horror and repulsion. Both these objects are charged, albeit differently, with magical properties. One while the other haunts. Mobilizing the strong charge of abjection and grim consequence, induced by the imagery of a disinterred grave, the artist, in an emulation of the passion of Heath cliff, offers up for examination a war-tom and dismembered body of Kashmir as a corpus delicti, opening a space for meditation on the protracted suite and the larger question why war? The audience is invited to take a walk through the graveyard of history and throw themselves open for possession by the undead past and the dying present in a corrective danse macabre. Often times, all that the dead want is for someone to hear their story before the graph shifts from the paranormal to the normal again.
Murder of Crows by Gargi Raina [previously] Being a generational mainland KP, this was only work that looked at Kashmir from a distance, and in a bit of old school “paradise” lost format.
text at the exhibit:
Gargi Raina
A MURDER OF CROWS (The Crow Funeral)
Gouache, ink, charcoal on paper 5 panels : 6.25 ft x 3.5 ft each 2018
In the English language a more poetic word is used to describe collective nouns, specifically groups of animals. In the book of St. Albans, in 1486 in medieval England these terms are mentioned
a gaggle of geese.
a school of fish,
a pride of lions,
A Murder of Crows
Crows are one of the closest to human beings in feeling and expressing grief collectively at the death of one of their own Crows hold funerals and mourn their dead. When a crow dies, other crows fly from afar and gather around and make a lot of noise In response to a distress call from near a dead crow, other crows fly in from afar and gather around and make a lot of noise. They react strongly to seeing one of their own who has died. These crows can share the knowledge of dangerous humans with other crows They have long collective memories and hold a grudge and pass it on to their offspring The sight of a dead crow leaves a lasting impression on living crows. This expression of public collective grief of crows is akin to human collective grief at funerals.
“The relief illustrated in Plate XII was found on the site of Huskapura (modern Ushkur), near Baramula in Kashmir, by Father de Ruyter of the Church Mission School at Baramula [around 1915]. The slab, which is on exhibition in the Fitler Pavilion, bears the equestrian portrait or effigy of a warrior armed with a bow carried on his left arm, a shield and sword on his right thigh, and a battle axe and a quiver full of arrows at his back; also apparently a mace is attached to the saddle. His costume consists of an under coat fastening on the proper right, and an over jacket fastened by straps in the centre; probably also of trousers and boots, but the feet are broken away. The horse is richly caparisoned and almost completely covered by a richly decorated cloth; it is guided by a bridle and bit. The incised inscription, in a late variety of Sārāda script known as Devāśeşa, is damaged; it is in corrupt Sanskrit and not quite intelligible. The date, however, is clearly legible and is ‘on Friday, the ninth, of the dark fortnight of Magha in the year 82.’ The era is not specified, but may be assumed to be the usual Saptarsi or Laukika era of other Kashmir Sārāda inscriptions, which era is usually recorded with omission of the centuries. The year 82 of the inscription would then correspond to the year 6 of one of the Christian centuries, and this century, to judge from the epigraphical peculiarities and the style of the relief was most likely the sixteenth, giving the date A.D. 1506. As to the epigraphy, it may be remarked that medial e is not represented by the stroke behind the consonant as was the case up to the time of Zainu’l-‘Abidīn, King of Kashmir from A.D. 1420-1470. The second line of the inscription which must have contained the name of some king or queen is unfortunately defective. The rest of the document records a gift of goods and animals (twenty khāris of paddy, two of wheat, eight oxen and five traks of coarse sugar); but the names of the donor and recipient are lost. The style of the sculpture is somewhat provincial, but it is of high interest as a rare and almost uniquely complete representation of contemporary military equipment. For much of the information given above I am indebted to Rai Bahadur Daya Ram Sahni, one of the most learned officers of the Archaeological Survey of India.
Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, “A Relief and Inscription from Kashmir” Expedition Magazine 2.26 (1931). Expedition Magazine.
One of the earliest instance of western art mixing up with Kashmir.
“Plate 231/ Harvard 1983. 620 recto Hindu Holy Men Artist: attributed to Govardhan Mughal school Circa 1630-1635 24,1 x 15,2 cm Watercolour on paper Private Collection, Courtesy of the Harvard University Art Museums. Govardhan’s miniature brings to life five Hindu holy men meditating beneath a neem tree near an early Kashmiri temple close to Srinagar, seen in the background. Each portrait represents a stage of life. In the foreground, a languid youth with a golden sea of curls reclines opposite the figure, a middle-aged sanyasi whose other-worldly gaze, self-grown shawl of long hair, and claw-like fingernails attest to his shedding of almost every mundane activity. To his left, sits an older devotee, whose expressive, disciplined face implies both intellectual power and spiritual grace. At the left of the miniature, momentarily distracted from his elevated state, a dark-bearded figure with a mala (rosary) and a turban wound from his own hair, looks out beyond the frame. Behind 124 the others reclines a holy man whose tense expression hints of troubled dreams. In the foreground, a fire smoulders, producing both warmth and the ashes worn instead of clothing by these aspiring saints. Nudes are rare in Mughal art, and most of those known to us depict holy men. Although the pose of the naked chela (apprentice) here was inspired by an engraving of Saint Chrysostom, interpreted as an Odalisque by the German printmaker Barthold Beham (1502-1540), Govardhan not only changed her sex but trimmed several years from her age. So convincing is the young sadhu that Govardhan’s adjustments to the western prototype must have been studied from life. Inasmuch as Prince Dārā Shikoh was so concerned with the varieties of religious personality, it is likely that this remarkable picture, one of Mughal art’s most serious investigations of the human spirits, was commissioned by him. Literature: we are grateful to Gauvin Bailey for discovering Barthold Beham’s prototype, for which see: Bartsch 1978, vol. XV [8], No. 43.”
~ Indian Paintings in the St. Petersburg Muraqqa by Stewart Cary Welch, 1996
The hill and temple depicted is probably Shankaracharya of Srinagar, the iconic symbol from the city. Although Welch identifies the tree as Neem, however, Neem is not that common in Kashmir and certainly not a common motif for art around Kashmir. It is possible the tree depicted is Brimji (celtis australis/Nettle Tree). Brimji is a common tree near holy sites of Kashmiri Pandits, this shade providing tree is considered holy by Kashmiris.
Asoka and Shankaracharya hill by Abanindranath Tagore, 20th century
-0-
Govardhan was the son of Bhavani Das, a minor painter in the Mughal imperial atelier. Govardhan began his career during the reign of Akbar. Govardhan was a Khanazad (born in family), house born slaves, trained since birth for service to royal family.
-0-
The Penance of Saint John Chrysostom by Barthel Beham, (1502–1540) was a German engraver, miniaturist and painter.
We know how the rightwing loonies in India react to nude art. We know what happens to the art and the artist. We know how the leaders of the right react. We know how the left intelligentsia argues back. But, what happens in Kashmir.
It’s 1947 and Sheikh Abdullah sets up a cultural front in Kashmir to promote art. Left allied artists are at the forefront of the front. An exhibition is planned. Prominent from all over India are invited for exhibiting their work. Among these artists in Brij Mohan Anand who is invited by Kashmir Sahayak Sabha of Punjab. He spends time in Kashmir, travelling, sketching and painting. In September 1948, the exhibition is inaugurated by the Sheikh at Hadow Memorial College Premises, Shiekh Bagh, Srinagar.
At the exhibition, some visitors are offended by the work of Brij Mohan. He had included some nudes among his work. Sheikh sides with the Kashmiri moral brigade. Sheikh and Brij Mohan have a heated argument that soon turns physical. Later, the artist is told arrest warrants have been issued in his name. The artist silently packs as many of his paintings as he could and heads for the national highway where he finally hitches ride in an army truck, leaving Kashmir hiding under sheets of tarpaulins like some sheep.
And that’s why you won’t see Kashmiri artists exhibiting nudes in Kashmir. The Kashmiri society remains on right.
-0-
The story is told in the book “Narratives for Indian Modernity: The Aesthetic of Brij Mohan Anand” [Aditi Anand / Grant Pooke, 2016]
Some of the Kashmir specific works of Brij Mohan Anand
First art exhibition in Kashmir. Srinagar. 1948.
Pandit Woman, 1948
Cover designed by Brij Mohan Anand for Jamna Das Akhtar’s novel “Kashmir ki Beti” (1978) based on Zooni Gujjar.
Put a nail on the white wall. Draw a sketch of a turbaned man around it so that nail forms the tilak. Under the sketch the name is given “Premi”. On the nail hang the “welcome” board, just enough to cover the eyes and “back” to cover the mouth.
2. Paradise or Kashmir
An empty room. With a line in white outside the threshold. the board outside the room reads, “Only muslims allowed”.
3. Plebiscite
An empty room with empty AK-47 casings engraved with “Allah” and “Bhagwan”. Put the one you like in a dice shaped white box whose surface alternatively read “U” and “N”. At a given time a screen in the room, randomly shows the result of the voting. The viewers, can anytime take the casings from the box and throw them back on the floor, but they can’t again put it back in. That is for the next set of visitors.
4. House
An empty shell of a wooden house half buried under the ground. A cement frame of a house next to it, growing out of it.
5. Pandith
Put a threaded man in a glass casing. The man counts money and sits in front of the idol of a Hindu god. Just let people watch. Project the live happening of the room in the room next to this room that people enter on exiting the previous room. People can watch their own reactions.
6. Doon of Language
Although aazaan sounds with interfere with all sound based installations in Kashmir, still this is sound based woodwork installation. A large egg shaped hall that from outside resembles a walnut, the symbol of brain in kashmiri idioms. The hall has four chambers, in such a way that two rooms, mimicking a walnut, sit on top of each other. People walk through it. In each chamber are playing sounds of a particular language, words taken from poets of these languages. Sanskrit. Persian. Hindustani. Urdu. Outside the shell are lines “Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar”, wrongly attributing them to Agha Shahid Ali.
7. Imagined Past and Imagined Present
Visitors walks into a room, walk along a wall while archival footage of Kashmir is projected onto them. In the chamber, only soundbites of encounters in Kashmir in heard. In a chamber far away to it, viewer chamber, the people can see bits of old Kashmir on these people and the sound played is only traditional Kashmiri soufiyana kalaam.
8. Jammu
A room of tin walls kept at 47 degrees. On the roof is projected snowfall. On the floor, snakes. In a corner, a melting snowman.
9. Rebuild Srinagar
A giant statue of Laxmi next to a painted image of Sridevi. Put a hammer next to it.
I can go on and on. Put a water hyacinth in a glass and call it Dal. Take a pot of sand on a jar and call it Jehlum.
Put a water hyacinth in a glass bottle and call it Dal. Take a pot of sand in a jar and call it Jhelum. Put an empty glass jar, with nothing inside and call it Wular. Take a hammer and call it a statue. Call temple a park. Park cars on the mosques. Replace the wooden cones of the shrines with the cone of the loudspeakers. Take a Kangri and call it Kashmir, ask people to put ash in it. Call it all humanity.
Nund Rishi. 14-15th century. This popular image Nund Rishi comes from a manuscript dated 17th century and titled “Kashmiri Kalaam”.*
-0-
The Mullas flourish on money
fests
These Sheikhs like honey
stick to wealth
The sufis half-naked
do no work
yet, enjoy
unrepentant
many scrumptious meals
None pursue knowledge,
It’s all just another game
these selves
unrestrained
Seen them lately?
Catch them live
Try this old trick:
Announce a grand feast,
from pulpit
now watch
This Mulla run to the Masjid
“Run sick Mulla! Run!
Run to your Masjid.”
-0-
*According to Kashmir Research Biannual Vol 1 No 1 P N Pushp, 1960. The painting comes from private collection of Hakim Sayyid Shah Sahib of Astan-e-Pain, Kashtawar. Water colors in Kangri with Mughal touches.