To Gulmarg on a Rainy Day
Visiting Baba Reshi
Near Ramboh village in Baramulla District, three miles from Tangmarg, on way to Gulmarg, the shrine of Baba Reshi is situated at about 7,000 ft. The tomb (Ziarat) is of an ascetic actually named Baba Payamuddin (Pam Din) and to whom the Chak Dynasty Rulers of Kashmir paid courtesy visits during the Mughal period.
Born around 1411, he is said to have died around 1480. This Reshi, a highborn son of a nobleman but turned ascetic after observing hardworking ants too closely one day, was a disciple of Baba Zainuddin Rishi (born Ziya Singh or Jaya Singh, some say) of Aishmuqam who was one of the principal disciples of Sheikh Nur-ud-din (Nund Rishi) – the first of the Reshis; the disciples, his four Jewels: ‘Buma’ Baba Bamuddin Rishi, ‘Nasar’ Baba Nasruddin Rishi, ‘Zaina’ Baba Zainuddin Rishi and ‘Latif ‘ Baba Latifuddin Rishi.
In his later years, on the direction of Zainuddin Rishi, Baba Payamuddin moved to village Ramboh, and like others of the order, performed miracles, helped the common people and spread the name. Baba Reshi famously built a daan, a fire place at this place. People came from far and wide to plaster this daan, to offer sacrifices. They still do. All to have their wishes granted.
In the 90s, this place also faced fire.
On way to Gulmarg, I had no idea we were going to make a stopover here. So it came as a pleasant surprise. After visiting the house that wasn’t there anymore, it came as a pleasant surprise from my parents. My mother couldn’t stop gushing about the place. I guess she has inherited the devotion to this place from her mother who must have been here often thanks to Nana’s job at Gulmarg.
Inside the shrine, in the center of the hall, there is some wonderful woodwork around the tomb of the saint. As I walked around the tomb, circling it, appreciating the art, ‘Is it walnut wood?’, noticing something strange, I came to a sudden embarrassing halt. There was something wrong with the place where I stood. One look around and I realized that I had been circling in the outer circle and had unwittingly walked into the women section. There were women sitting all around. The right side of the hall seemed women only. Women praying, crying. Baba Reshi is famous for granting ‘child wish’. According to an old tradition of this place, the children thus born, taking a vow of celibacy is attached to the shrine for life and at any given time forty such saints (Reshis) are supposed to serve the shrine.
I traced back my steps and this time started to walk the other side. My mother took up a corner and did her own bit of praying and crying. I walked into the inner circle, taking a closer look at the tomb, ‘Is it a tomb?’, again I realized something wrong. This time it was the direction. Circling, left to right, I found myself facing a teenage boy coming from the other direction. The boy, praying under his breadth, was cleaning the woodwork using his fingers, measuring the woodwork inch by inch, picking up pecks of dust. An old practice, I have seen Pandits do it at the new shrines of old saints, at Jammu.
After spending some more time inside the shrine, as I started to step outside, I noticed an attendant at the door was handing out something wrapped in Newspaper to the people walking out of the shrine. Prashad? Prasadam? Something sweet? Something to eat?Tabarruk? I too streached my arm for the handout. Walking a distance outside, I opened the paper packet. Inside I found broken down stones and rocks. Others found ash, dust and soot.
Later someone told me a funny little anecdote. A couple of years ago, a small group of Pandit families had come to visit the shine on the urs, death anniversary, of the saint. A group of separatists was also present. After the common prayers, the separatists raised their hands and asked the saint to grant their wish, ‘Kashmir bane Pakistan, Let Kashmir be Pakistan’. The crowd said, ‘Ameen, Amen’. The Pandits shaking their sideways, under their breath added, ‘Zah ti ne, Zah ti ne, never, never’
Teenk’pour
Gulmarg
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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.
Memories of Gulmarg
MEMORIES OF GULMARGO! for the wind in the pine-wood trees
0! for the flowery, scented breeze
In far Gulmarg! in far Gulmarg!0! for the wealth of flowers so blue
O! for the sound of the ring-dove’s coo,O! for that earth’s soft covered breast
The turf my love’s footsteps have pressed,And all the thousand scents which rise
To subtly haunt our memories,Scents which spring from the very grass
As o’er its velvet growth we pass
In far Gulmarg ! in far Gulmarg !0! for the babbling brook’s clear flow
Dancing from Killan’s heights below,0! for the cold and gleaming snow
Which Apharwat doth proudly show,And lights and shades which joyous play
On her grey-green slopes all through the day.O! for the moonlight so serene
As ‘thwart the marg she casts her sheen,O ! for the rainbow tinted vale
Which dream-like fades to vision pale
In far Gulmarg! in far Gulmarg!Their distant peaks great mountains rear
Pure, shadowy guardians of Kashmir.And now upon a dreary plain
I wounded lie in aching pain
How far Gulmarg! how far Gulmarg!But when this pain comes to an end
My soul released swift may it wendTo its true home yonder I know
Instead of Heaven, God let me go,
To far Gulmarg! To far Gulmarg!
~ Muriel A.E. Brown
Chenar Leaves: Poems of Kashmir (1921)
Gulmarg in Summer
Gulmarg in Summer.June, 2008.On way to Gulmarg
People and Trees
It was pouring at the time
As often happens – Green looked greener
wadiya mera daman
sleepy
Meadows of Gulmarg
How green was my valley! That summer.
Gulmarg. June, 2008.
Giving it out in big Wallpaper size.
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Some people may recall its former glory.
Funny thing is that in year 1906, Francis Younghusband, then resident of Kashmir, was already documenting how ‘modern’ tourist spot of Gulmarg came into being and how some people (though he was not one of them) Gulmarg was getting ‘spoilt’. He preferred the festive electric environment. In his book Kashmir (1911) he wrote:
WHAT will be one day known as the playground of India, and what is known to the Kashmiris as the “Meadow of Flowers,” is situated twenty-six miles from Srinagar, half-way up the northward- facing slopes of the Pir Panjal. There is no other place like Gulmarg. Originally a mere meadow to which the Kashmiri shepherds used to bring their sheep, cattle, and ponies for summer grazing, it is now the resort of six or seven hundred European visitors every summer. The Maharaja has a palace there. There is a Residency, an hotel, with a theatre and ball-room, post office, telegraph office, club, and more than a hundred ” huts ” built and owned by Europeans. There are also golf links, two polo grounds, a cricket ground, four tennis courts, and two croquet grounds. There are level circular roads running all round it.There is a pipe water-supply, and maybe soon there will be electric light everywhere. And yet for eight months in the year the place is entirely deserted and under snow.
Like Kashmir generally, Gulmarg also is said by those who knew it in the old days to be now ” spoilt.” With the increasing numbers of visitors,with the numerous huts springing up year by year in every direction, with the dinners and dances, it is said to have lost its former charms, and it is believed that in a few years it will not be worth living in. My own view is precisely the opposite. I knew Gulmarg nineteen years ago, and it certainly then had many charms. The walks and scenery and the fresh bracing air were delightful. Where now are roads there were then only meandering paths. What is now the polo ground was then a swamp. The ” fore ” of the golfer was unknown. All was then Arcadian simplicity. Nothing more thrilling than a walk in the woods, or at most a luncheon party, was ever heard of.
And, doubtless, this simplicity of life has its advantages. But it had also its drawbacks. Man cannot live for ever on walks however charming and however fascinating his companion may be. His soul yearns for a ball of some kind whether it be a polo ball, a cricket ball, a tennis ball, a golf ball, or even a croquet ball. Until he has a ball of some description to play with he is never really happy.
So now that a sufficient number of visitors come to Gulmarg to supply subscriptions enough to make and keep up really good golf links, polo grounds, etc., I for my part think Gulmarg is greatly improved. I think, further, that it has not yet reached the zenith of its attractions. It is the Gulmarg of the future that will be the really attractive Gulmarg, when there is money enough to make the second links as good as the first, to lay out good rides down and around the marg, to make a lake at the end, to stock it with trout, and to have electric light and water in all the ” huts,” and when a good hotel and a good club, with quarters for casual bachelor visitors, have been built.
All this is straying far from the original Arcadian simplicity, but those who wish for simplicity can still have it in many another valley in Kashmir at Sonamarg, Pahlgam, or Tragbal, and numerous other places, and the advantage of Gulmarg is that the visitor can still if he choose be very fairly simple.
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I was told my maternal great grandfather used to work as a keeper in a tourist club at Gulmarg. My nani recalls her samawar tea parties held on these green meadows. She also recalls how angreez used to excitedly taking their photograph – kashmiris and their samovar. She also recalls how the fertile land here offered great crop of potatoes. She recalls the luxuries that the job offered – water, electricity, fine cloths and great perks. My great-nana, one Tarachand Raina, worked in Gulmarg right till 1947, right till the kabayli attack after which the club ceased to exist.
Man at Baba Reshi
June 2008
Man at the shrine (ziarat) of sufi saint Baba Reshi (Baba Payam-ud-din), situated at about 7000 ft (2133m) between Gulmarg and Tangmarg.
