Strange Experience at 75

Today the 9^th June, 2014 I am the only 
inmate in the Mahjur Nagar mansion. The only other living objects around are ornamental plants besides the laying hen.

All of a sudden unusually, the hen in her chicken coop started to crackle loudly and restlessly. My presumption was right. I looked through the window and as expected spotted an egg laid by the hen. I instantaneously made a video of her crackle.  I picked up the egg and marked her reaction. Instantaneously she was quiet and calm. I pitied her trust on human beings. She believed that in human hand her egg was safe and secured, little knowing that soon the egg would take the form of an omelet.

Parakrama

Today the 1^st June 2014, after a lapse of more than three decades I made a Parakarma of Hariparbat on foot. I alighted from the local mini bus at Rajouri Kadal-a little ahead of Naidkadal and went through the beaten track via Navhatta to Maha Ganesh and Mokdhum Sahib.

 The old passage leading to Saptrishi and Kali Mata is blocked. I came down to the road that runs alongside the wall of the fort. Ahead of Deviangan, unusually the gate of the Ambar koul Mandir was open. Wazwan in the premises was in full swing. I sought permission from one of the volunteers to shoot film of the wazwan. It was a nice meeting with in charge of the show. I disclosed my identity and soon ex students of the School at Rainawari came from distant places. I got a chance to express my wails in exile for which I said that Farooq Abdullah and Rajiv Gandhi are responsible for the miseries inflicted on Kashmiris. I was lead to their drawing room and they patiently listened to me. En route I had purchased Monaco biscuit packet for ten rupees. I had already munched 50% of it. I was entertained by a full flask of black tea and one ex student Mechanical Engineer continued to sit at my service despite his other engagements. Despite their persistence I refused meat preparations. One of the elders asked for the reason. I said that I doubted it to be only mutton. He said: "Why?". I said that Batmaloo market is full of beef.

I visited Chati Patshahi Gurdwara and made some Sikhs around to give response loudly and in high pitch to Bolayyyyyyyyyyyyy so nihal- Sat sria kal; Vai Guru ji ka Khalsa Vai Guru ji ki fatah. A little ahead I boarded the mini bus for Batmaloo, that dropped me at Mahjur Nagar footbridge.

The Parakrama  on foot gave me the feel of pre-exodus era.

People at Amar Koul Mandir suggested for reconstruction of the burnt Dharam Shalla in the premises and maintenance of the lawn beside the Dharamshala. I told them that it could be done by the committee that may be in charge of the premises. One R L Koul residing within the premises offered me free accommodation from December onward.

I recalled the day when I along with my father and other family members in 1961 enjoyed a picnic in the lawns of the temple. The most memorable event was that all other stoves around failed to stand the strong wind when our special stove worked. I had purchased that stove and one tea-set  each for twenty six rupees from the crockery shop of the late Pundit Narayan joo Kokroo on deferred payment of a monthly installment of Rs.ten each. The stove unlike common stoves had kerosene oil in a round glass inverted bottle that supplied k-oil to the wick in the adjacent chamber. People around were astonished to see the special stove that stood the strong wind. It gave an air of superiority for the first time and strangers believed us to be from HIG (Higher income group)

To hate is a vice and to love is divine.

Most of the Kashmiri Pundits have been in the teaching profession and most of them have been dedicated and successful teachers. I being a teacher know it well that the greatest reward to the teacher is the performance of his or her student. The more the student excels the more the teacher is rewarded.

I recall, when Madam Sukriti Saproo, after her first caesarian delivery came to senses, the first words she uttered were: “Rubaya Rashid ( Nawchoo of Chattabal) take your note book. I have evaluated it.”

Abid Bazaz (At present professor NIT, Srinagar ) used to stand first in his class while his friend Naveen Dhar(at present in Ireland ) second. Naveen’s father, though a veteran professor of Chemistry used to accuse me of partiality and so would the late Mohammad Amin Khan, when his daughter Marya Khan would be second to Naval Duloo. I used to handover the answer papers of the first ten to such parents to get exonerated of the allegations. Naval passed XII through Mahrashtra Board and stood first in English, throughout the Board.

I consider myself very small in the field, because I got chance to serve the community for a little span of 17 years (1973-Dec.1989) only. I feel highly rewarded; when I see my students excel in all walks of life globally.

1968, before his death, the late Govind Joo kaw, gave a light knock at the door of Ghulam Rasool Raja (Retired Education Officer) of Zaindar mohalla (At present behind Neelam Cinema Shutra Shahi) early in the morning and handed the MA (Previous) Economcs notes of his daughter to him. Those days there were a few graduates in the whole area and Ghulam Rasool (Darzi cum Raja) was one of them.

There have been some bad teachers too. I have suffered very badly at the hands of Kanth Ram of National High School and Neelkanth of Mission School Habba kadal, but the credit of overall progress of kashmiris goes to the teaching community, majority of whom was from kashmiri Pundit community.

My father the late Pundit Madho Dass cautioned me lest the education zeal of Gani Sofi of Chrar Sharief should suffer for want of finances. I personally begged the late Abdul Ganihe soul of Abdul Gaffar Shah (Retd. Education Officer) who paid the entire amount from the ‘zakat’ money he had kept aside for such purposes.

Academic excellence is not religion based. I believe the environment of Kashmir is the best for pursuance of excellence in the field of education. Kashmiri Muslims appreciated the value of education very late, while as an illiterate kashmiri Pundit, though financially sound is an outcaste in his society. Even in the 21st century hundred percent Muslims do not avail of the opportunity. It is only the few amongst the Peerzadas, Sahibzadas, Qureshis and the like who are in pursuit of academic excellence. Child labour, illiteracy of a big chunk, divorces on trivial basis, unplanned family and sex discrimination are still big stigma on the community.

Kashmiri Pundit is the only Hindu community that does not believe in castes.

We all suffer because of the wrongs of the History. Converts are justified for their grievance. Our orthodox ancestors showed their short sightedness when they refused to accept them back. The result of that historical blunder is obvious.

Mid eighties, one Sadhu from the South approached me and said: “I want to deliver a lecture to your students to make them good citizens.”

I made him comfortable and told him to wait a little until the morning mass prayer was over. In the meantime I asked Ghulam Mohammad to prepare a cup of tea for the distinguished guest.

The Sadhu was soon furious and said: “I am an elevated Sadhu, I don’t even touch preparations made by Muslims.”

I said: “You are badly in need of a lecture from my primary class students. They can teach you much to make you civilized. I can take tea prepared by my sweeper Subhan Sheikh, after he washes his hands with soap”. The Sadhu had to leave without getting

educated and enlightened.

To conclude, I believe, to hate is a vice and to love is divine and a virtue to be proud of.(Prop. Gani Furniture at Zaindar mohalla) for collection of 35 rupees for his university admission fees. Peace be to t

The Corrupt & Brilliant Sniffer Dog.

The Kashmir Police Dogs seemed to be corrupt and communal only because they had been as brilliant as their master Shah Sahib. Being in the Kashmir Police they had been indoctrinated the two inseparable virtues of the Police.

  5:30 PM, November, early eighties, I picked up the receiver of the buzzing phone. I recognized the nervous voice of my younger sister who had left me an hour before.

The other end: “The house has been burgled by some one.”

“Don’t step in. I am coming soon” said I.

En route Chanapora, I approached the SHO Thanna Sadar at Sheirgarhi to lodge an FIR.

 The SHO, a sardarji with three stars on his shoulders said: “Go and complete the list of things burgled to complete the FIR.”

I said: “To prepare the list of burgled things, I shall have to enter the house, and the evidence shall get mutilated”.

Luckily Sardarji agreed and accompanied me to the Police Control Room at Batmaloo along with a host of other officials in the khaki to requisition the services of a Sniffer Dog. The Sniffer Dog seemed to be more smart, healthy and taller than its keeper, a Sardarji with three Vs on his arm.

Seeing the glaring personality of the Sniffer, I heaved a sigh of relief and trusted its capability.

Those days we did not have personal telephone connection. So, the neighbour, Abdul Salam Matta’s telephone was instantly used. Seeing the Police contingent, Abdul Salam suggested that requisition of the police was a futile exercise.

 “I know a few scoundrels of the area and lost items can be recovered without the help of the police. It would just cost an expenditure of rupees five thousand” said he.

The Sniffer finally entered the house of a poor non Kashmiri Hindu neighbour. The inmate was picked up by the Inspector for interrogation. For a few days he was tied to a tree in the police station. Doubtful integrity of the Sniffer was proved beyond doubt and the innocent was released.

Simultaneously, at our own level one of us used to survey the market if the thief had sold the stolen VCR and the music system to any of the local dealers. Progress of the survey was every morning conveyed to me from Mr. Matta’s telephone.

The theft had taken place a few days before Id. Seventy days passed; there was no hope of recovery.

Abruptly, a few days before the next Id, a youth approached us with a deal. He offered return of all the lost items against payment of Rs.20, 000. The total loss was only to the extent of the amount. Besides, the items were insured against theft. Reasonable as he was, he scaled down to five thousand only. Next day was fixed for execution of the deal. In the meantime, we sent a word to Mr. Matta to be witness to the deal.

 At 11PM Mr. Matta approached us and promised return of the items by 2 AM against Rs.2300 only. He took our fiat car and came with all the items except electronic wrist watch. We paid him Rs.900 only and the rest he pretended to have had borrowed from his wife. He emphasised not to disclose the recovery to the police or the public. It was not acceptable and I informed secretly the then SSP Crime Mr.Javed Mukdoomi (Retired IGP). He requisitioned the services of his confident inspector Gulzar(Finally dismissed by Jag Mohan in 1990). The youth was caught and interrogated. He confessed that it was Abdul Salam Matta who had instigated him for the crime. Salam Matta was caught and bailed in the court. Salam Matta was quite affluent. Besides being a transporter,he was a timber merchant. He had his bungalow on the roadside on four kanals of land.

One day Dy.SP Crime Rajinder Tikoo said to me: “I doubt the integrity of Gulzar. I believe he has been purchased by Salam Matta. I am told that they have gone to Pahalgam for the deal”. I said: “Don’t bother, I shall interrogate Gulzar”.

Next day I said to Gulzar: “Gulzar Sabh I called you at Pahalgam and you did not pay any heed”.

He said: “By Holy Koran I did not hear you.”

I said: “How could you hear, when you were in the company of the thief Salam Chur.”

Prompt came the reply: “By Koran, he met me there. I had not gone with him.”

Thank God we received back the VCR and the music system from Salam Matta. The electronic wrist watch was sold by Muna, the youth inducted by Salam. Walkman was in police custody and it was being enjoyed by the then prosecuting officer, who by now is the senior most SSP prosecution.

On Id Salam Matta knew the weakness of Muna. He knew Muna was in need of some money to spend on Id. So he paid him Rs.2300 in two instalments against the stolen items. Seventyfive days after, on the approaching of the next Id, Muna went to Salam Matta for some money to celebrate the Id. Salam rebuked Muna. Muna threatened him that if he would not pay him, he would go to Pundit Ji. Salam did not take the mutineer seriously. So goes the story……

Telepathy!

June 1967. Barring me a chronic bachelor rest of the family members shifted to summer capital Srinagar from the winter capital Jammu. Abrupt loneliness turned tiring. For a change I went to my maternal uncle based at Naya Nangal. Change for one week refreshed me and tuned me to live a lonely life with a lookout for a pleasant company. On my return, I did not get a direct bus from Nangal to Pathankot. At Pathankot some personal assignment assigned by professor O N Labru was to be accomplished.

I hopped from Nangal to Hoshiarpur - Hoshiarpur to Dasua-Dasua to Pathankot and Pathankot to Jammu.

Quote from page number 104 ‘My Days’ autobiography R K Narayan:

“Sighing over a pretty face and form seen on a balcony, or from across the street, or in a crowd, longing for love-in a social condition in which, at least in those days, boys and girls were segregated and one never spoke to anyone but a sister-I had to pass through a phase of impossible love sickness.”

Unquote; Sighing over the two pretty faces in the queue at Hoshiarpur Bus stand for bus ticket, I pitied my person for traveling such a hopping tiresome journey all alone without a suitable companion. I wished how nice it would be if one of the two would give me a pleasant company!

With little hope, I sighed and occupied the central seat of the three-seater in the third row behind the driver seat.  Presently the bus acquired the desired speed and refreshed the passengers with the gush of air in the hostile sun. One of the two sighted in the queue contrary to my wishful thinking occupied the seat just in front of me.  I reconciled and buried deep my wish within and in reverie recalled the proverb ‘if wishes were horses beggars would ride’.

Thanks to telepathy! She turned her head and said to me: “……” Her loose dry hair tucked my face. Before I could make out anything of what she conveyed to me, the conductor of the bus offered his help to her. She paid him in exchange of a ticket and the scene left behind only a streak of the scent of the hair oil she had used.  Presently I went back to my reverie.

The bus terminated at Dasua. All but we two dispersed in different directions for their destinations. I broke silence and said: “Sorry I could not get you when you said something to me in the bus.” She said: “I wanted you to pass on my bus fare to the bus conductor in exchange of a ticket that I had failed to fetch at the bus stand.” In the meantime we occupied a seat around a tree meant for travelers. Self introduction and soon we became more than familiar to each other. She was from Talwara on way to Mukerian. Knowing that I was from Kashmir, she wanted to know something about Kashmir from me a Kashmiri. I added much more to the essay on ‘Beauties of Kashmir’ that I had learnt by heart when I was at the school. To the best of my capacity I portrayed Umri Khayam in words, at times under a cherry tree and at times in a spring shikara. My narration worked. She said: “I would like to tell you something, but I doubt your consent.”  A little ponder. I presumed may be she may ask for some money. I was attired in a three-piece English cut suit with a matching necktie and a snow-white handkerchief tri folded in the uppermost pocket quite contrary to my ready cash of rupees fourteen in my possession. (The total tip-top dress was not for more than two hundred rupees.)

I said: “I can’t promise blindly. Let you reveal yourself.”

She said: “Take me along with. A visit to Kashmir is my burning desire.”

I was taken aback. Momentarily I lost my hold on to the ground. I said: “I live as a paying guest at Jammu with one known family. Besides, I have posted a postcard in the name of my friend, a probationary Police Officer who may have come from Kathua to see me at Jammu. Your proposal is impracticable.”

She said: “I knew before hand your response. Let you give a second thought to my request.”

Second thought was quite contrary to the initial one. I retorted to myself: “You desired. God granted your desire and now you are backing out. Go ahead. God will set the stage Himself. Desire granted must be seized.”

I consented and tutored her that she shall have to pretend as a candidate for an Entrance Examination at Jammu for Medical College, and her father a friend of my uncle asked me to accompany you and facilitate your stay. Soon a Chandigarh-Jammu bound bus stopped to alight some of the passengers. Both of us boarded the bus for Pathankot.  Almighty came to my rescue once again. Thanks to the delinquency of the conductor who failed to collect the bus fare from me. In the bus we posed as a rightful couple to escape any self-styled social activist. Even Trilok Sharma SSP CRPF, the co passenger from Pathankot to Jammu got bullied.

5 PM we alighted from the bus at Shalimar Road near the then entrance of the SMHS Hospital Jammu. I knocked at the door of a room nearby. To my dismay a stranger came out. He said that my friend D V Gupta had shifted to a house at Afghan Gali. I took to

Rajinder Bazar Road to deliver fried fish at Standard Hotel Residency Road Jammu as a gift to my friend’s father. 

Coincidence as it was, we had a chance meeting with the Probationary Police Officer, G Khan and IK  at the City Chowk.

The tutored parroted statement regarding the Entrance Examination was digested by all but the probationary Police officer.

Two nights she shared the bed of Mrs. A N Gupta, my hostess.

The third day in response to the hard persuasion by the Probationary Police Officer I bade her good bye with a promise to get her back.

Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Mostly such events are buried within. R K Narayan encouraged me to reveal otherwise I would not be an exception to many.

The whole episode was matching her name ‘Sopna’.

She was depressed due to the rude behaviour of her father who as per her statement used to beat her mother mercilessly under the influence of liquor. She was on sojourn to Mukerian to play ostrich to the apathy at home in the company of one of her friends.

Commitment

 Around October 1987, a stranger called on me at my office during school hours. He introduced himself as a wholesale dealer in Books from Delhi. He had come for some business deal. We mutually fixed an appointment for the next day at Indian Coffee House at 5 PM.

Next day over a cup of coffee, he asked me about the procedure I used to purchase books from different publishers from Delhi.

“I get documents through J&K Bank, with the condition that I make payment within three months after receipt of the goods” said I.

He offered facility with no time limit. He said that he would send the documents directly on my address in an ordinary post without any condition of time limit. After sale of the goods less by commission the payment be remitted into his account. It was an offer for distributorship for the entire valley.

I suggested that I was a teacher and not a businessman, I would introduce him to some other Principal of a school known to me and he would welcome his offer.

He refused, he said: “This offer is only for you and not for others.”

I said: “You must be telling all your customers that the offer is exclusively for you and not for others. Why I be given special treatment when both of us are strangers to each other?”

He said: “I am a trader from Delhi. We at Delhi make assessment ‘koan kitnay panee mai hai’ (as to who is trust worthy).

It was a surprise to me. I never knew my value and my credibility even at an alien place for me. Thereafter I became over cautious and dealt with everybody cautiously lest the spotless reputation gets tarnished.

Commitment is a treasure that one can bank upon and cash to grow. Bluff masters may succeed temporarily but are sure to fall.

Gani Sofi

March1961. I joined at newly upgraded High School Zainapor as a double course graduate teacher. Mohammad Shafi Qari of Khanyar was newly promoted Headmaster.

One day Qari Sahib received a postcard, read it and handed it to me. The postcard written in Urdu read: “Congratulations to you for your promotion, but to whose care have you left me to?”

Qari Sahib explained to me: “This boy, Gani Sufie, used to cook meals for me and Mohammad Abdullah Dev my colleague at Chrari Shrief. Being a promising boy we used to coach him. Now he wants to join me here at Zainapore”.

I said: “What is the problem? Let him come. Here also you need his services.”

Qari Sahib said: “Now he is in tenth. No doubt I am MA in Urdu and Persian, but I can’t teach him Mathematics. I have not passed regular tenth class. I have done post graduation through Adibh Kamil stream.”

I offered my services and next week Ganie joined us at Zainapore. Ganie passed tenth. I changed my job. Ganie maintained his relations and continued to visit me. Ganie passed Adib Mahir and Adib Kamil and joined Jamati Islami School as a teacher.

To prepare himself for completion of degree, he left his job. One day, out of pocket, Ganie was desperate. He needed Rs.35 to deposit university examination fees.

My father had already cautioned me to be more careful for Gani’s studies than my paid tuitions. Otherwise no dharma karma could save me from being a sinner.

Rs.35 was beyond my capacity. I approached Gani Furniture at Zaindar Mohalla and some other Muslims around at his shop for the help. I requested them to contribute each a little to make a total of Rs.35.

To his good luck one of the prospective donors was the late Abdul Gaffar Shah, Field Advisor to Disrict Institute of Education. He approached his benevolent and noble wife (PBUHS) and asked her for Rs.35 from the amount set aside for ‘zakat’. 

Ganie developed his personal relations with Shah Sahib. Now Ganie was a full fledged graduate. His employment was the next mission. One day he met me in my office. His face was a little gloomy, elongated and darker. I asked for the reason. In response he turned emotional and his eyes became wet. I changed the topic. A few days later, Ganie revealed his reason for his depressed spirit the previous day. He said for three days he had managed on grapevine leaves as he had nothing else to eat.  

With our collective efforts, Ganie joined as a government teacher.

One day Abdul Gaffar Shah taunted at me: “Ganie continues to come to me and asks for financial help. I would not mind when he was without job; but now it is exploitation.

I rebuked Ganie: “You have stooped very low. Now you are in job. Why do you ask Shah Sahib for money?”  

Ganie said: “I have maintained account for each and every penny that Shah Sahib has given to me. I am indebted to him. I shall pay him back.”

Shah Sahib accepted back the money that he had paid him after he was in job. Rest of the money, being from zakat account was refused. 

Ganie Sufie retired as government teacher a few years before. He is back to his home at Chrarie Sharief.

Mohammad Shafi Qari left his gazetted job and took to spirituality. He has been to pilgrimage a number of times. Chief disciple of Rehman Sahib of Tral, he is settled somewhere on Shalimar-Ganderbal interior area. Unfortunately I can’t recall the name of the vicinity.

Shah Sahib met me last in the year 1994 at Sanat Nagar Crossing. Shah Sahib left for heavenly abode a few years before. Peace is to his noble soul.