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Shishar ga’nt (Icicles) hanging from the roof of an ice cave of Mushran Glacier located south east and upstream of holy Amarnathji cave Shrine in Sind valley Kashmir.The photograph was taken from inside of the ice cave in 1968. |
in bits and pieces
Shishar ga’nt (Icicles) hanging from the roof of an ice cave of Mushran Glacier located south east and upstream of holy Amarnathji cave Shrine in Sind valley Kashmir.The photograph was taken from inside of the ice cave in 1968. |
My fingers get them every winter. The strangest fix includes wearing iron bangles!
In A.D. 1825 Kirpa Ram was governor. He was a mild, self-indulgent man, fond of boating and boatwomen, and nicknamed Kirpa Shroin, ‘ Shroin,’ being the Kashmiri word for the sound of the boat-paddle. In 1827 there was a severe earthquake, and the city was almost destroyed, this was followed by cholera. In this year three Brahman women were burnt as Satis. After an easy rule of five years Kirpa Ram, in the midst of a pleasure party on the Dal Lake, was recalled to Lahore, and there being disgraced, retired to Hardwar, where he lived an ascetic life. It is said in jest by the Kashmiris that Kirpa Ram introduced crows into Kashmir, considering that they were necessary to the due performance of funeral rites, as it is the custom in the Panjab to feed crows on such occasions, and this valuable contribution to the fauna of Kashmir forms perhaps the most important act of Kirpa Shroin’s idle rule.
– The Valley of Kashmir by Sir Walter Roper Lawrence (1895).
Image: A crow outside my mother’s old long sold out house at Kralkhod.
The writer must have caught hold of her and given her a good shake and out must have tumbled all her possessions. A needle, a knife, a snuff-box. From the description, I have heard stories about snuff boxes; practice of cleaning pots with mud continued well into the 90s. And then slowly mud was replaced by Nirma.
Photo by Pandit Vishwanath, a student of Biscoe and the first Kashmiri photographer.Found it in the book ‘Kashmir in Sunlight & Shade: a Description of the Beauties of the Country, the Life, Habits and Humour of its Inhabitants, and an Account of the Gradual but Steady Rebuilding of a Once Down-trodden People’ (1922) by Cecil Earle Tyndale-Biscoe.
The thing that really interested me in the photograph is her footware. Must be the famous Pulhor [ recent photo] woven from leaves of Iris ( Krishm in Kashmiri ).
(I suspected it) Turns out she is wearing Krav or wooden sandals.
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Panditanis
With graceful steps, erect and slow
Adown the stone-built, broken stair
The panditanis daily go
And on their head help high they bearBright vessels, which they stoop fill
Beneath the bridge’s wooden pier:
In pools of clouded amber still
Which gurgle deep and glowing here.Their movements of unconscious grace
Glint in the Jhelum’s flowing stream
Where rich hues shimmering interlace
And in the glancing ripples gleam,Then with their slender rounded arms
They poise the shining lotas high,
Ot bashful, with half feigned alarms
Draw close their veils with gesture shy.Bedecked by jewels quaint of form
In pherans robed, whose soft folds show
Tints dyed by rays of sunset warm
Flame, crimson, orange, rose aglow!With you gay tulips they compare
Which on these grass-grown house-tops blow:
What types for artist’s brush more fair
Does all Srinagar’s city know?
~ Muriel A.E. Brown
Chenar Leaves: Poems of Kashmir (1921)
Muriel Agnes Eleanora Talbot Brown was the daughter of Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Adelbert Cecil Talbot, Resident, Kashmir 1896- 1900. And first wife of Percy Brown, art historian famous for his work on History of Indian Architecture ( Buddhist and Hindu, 1942 ).
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Picked up: “Tankipora or Teenk’pour near old Secretariat in Srinagar. A place where you could get coin currency in exchange of cash. And it had been like that, a place to get smaller change, for generations. The place gets its name from ‘Teenk'” or ‘Tanki’ of the kind issued by Emperor Akbar. Tanki were the copper coin issued by Akbar from his Ahmadabad, Agra, Kabul, and Lahore mints. System: 10 Tanki (each one weighing 4.15 gram ) = 1 Tanka (230.45 gram)
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He got his first salary – Rs 10. But sadly for him they gave him a ten rupees note. He was absolutely embarrassed. ‘How can I hand just this single note to mother? It seems nothing. She would be dejected.’ So he hit upon an idea. He went to Teenk’pour and changed the ten rupee note for 10 paisa coins. Then he went back home and handed over a full jangling bag of coins to his mother. ‘Son, they pay you so much salary! May you prosper more! May you be an afsar soon! Good bless! Urzu! Urzu!’ Mother was happy.
Empty Stomach. Hakh and (phuhur) Batta. This is bliss.
‘Wan Raaz Trivikramasen! Answer King Trivikramasen’ Baital needles the king into answering his trick questions in a 1960s (?) Kashmiri production of Baital Pachisi for Radio Kashmir. The popular radio show was probably based on Kashmirian Somadeva’s Vetalapanchavirhsati in which the hero, the King is called ‘Trivikramasena, the son of Vikramasena’ ** but still refers to the semi-legendary Vikrama or Vikramaditya of Jain tradition.
More about Vetalapanchavirhsati Here
Broadway near the Army cantonment area,
Neelam at the back of the Civil Secretariat,
Shiraaz at Khanyaar,
Palladium and Regal at Lal Chowk,
Naaz near Iqbal Park,
Shah in Qamarwari,
Firdaus in Hamwal,
Khayyam near the chowk of same name.
Then there was:
Heaven/Hewaan in Anantnag,
Thimaya in Baramula,
and Samad/Summer Talkies in Sopore.
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Kapra in Sopore
Amrish/Regal Talkies at Residency Road:
Regina cinema of Baramulla
Marazi cinema in Kupwara
Heemal at Handwara
Nishat at Anantnag
Zorawar Theater on Srinagar-Baramulla Highway near Pattan,
run by army
These thanks to commenters (see below). Now the total is about 19.
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Image: Remains of Palladium Cinema Hall, Lal Chowk, Srinagar. June, 2008. Burnt down in 1992.
As bombs burst outside,
faint-hearted Jakie ran inside.
Her ears couldn’t bear the sound.
Diwali is always loud.
It was, even in Kashmir.
She ran for her life.
Crossing vot,
she made an instinctive dash
for the safest place in the house.
Eyes and some legs followed her.
Jackie ran for thokur-kuth.
The God room, the holy kitchen.
Among the framed family portraits of smiling gods
from the Himalayas, Plains and the Heaven,
Jackie stood moaning right next to the unlit
(but still warm for autumn night) daan.
Howling.
A canine inside a Hindu Kitchen.
‘Jackie isn’t very fond of Diwali. Jakie went mad.’
They were all now laughing.
Jakie was led out of the Kitchen.
But nothing could make her come out of the house.
(Weak-hearted Jackie)
So she stayed inside all that night.
‘Tomorrow, she may go back to roaming the streets.’
Old lady of the house again cleaned the Kitchen.
Poured water and swept the floor
Purified.
A diya still burning in front of gods. She bolted the door shut.
‘You weren’t born when this happened.’
I heard this story, every Diwali, every year,
while I was growing up not in that house.
‘Jackie must have died a year or two after you were born.
She used to play with you.
You wouldn’t remember that (do you)!
Killed.
Someone from the neighborhood fed her something.
A needle in her throat.’
And then the post scripts.
‘Then when your sister was born, around that time, we took in a dog.’
I remember the litters. The dog was really shy.
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