Saed-Muqar and Kuli-Faqir

Among many other professional beggars, kuli-faqir, and Saed-muqar are two tribes of beggars in the valley. Kuli faqir are notorious for their cheating, koker chuer and other petty thefts. They even steal clothes on the rope meant for drying. Their men folk stay back and take to gambling while women folk earn for them. They are nomads and speak a number of languages including pastu. Until my exodus, one such tribe was at Parimpora-bypass crossing. Saed Muqars are professional beggars and they neither cheat anybody nor do they steal from any household. Kulifaqir and Saedmuqar shift to Mumbai and other places of Maharashtra during winter months. On their arrival Maharashtrians pass a word of caution "Chiuenchue aa ghaia". Saedmuqar are not cheats. They like Govinda, Jackie Shroff and other retired Bollywood actors caution people of evil to come and ask for some money to ward off the evil against money. There is one more class of beggars from Chachebal Kulgam. They pose as Hindu in Hindu locality and as Muslim in Muslim locality. They keep two types of caps in their bag. Some of them pose as students from Khanbal College and collect money and ration for flood/ fire/ earthquake and other natural calamity  victims as per the circumstances. Nineties they posed as Kashmiri Pundits in Delhi and other cities.

https://youtu.be/fn7cTdNEA4M

“Are you Mujahid or Soieth or Tuetch or Nabedhie?" said B K

Around 2002, the days of Holi, I along with my students and colleagues was at Ram Dass  Sarai, Golden Temple,  Darbar  Sahab, Amritsar. The next day after our arrival at 9 AM while on way to grocer’s shop for some grocery, I spotted some Kashmiri hawkers at the main entrance of the temple. One was selling warm waist coats and the like and the other was selling shawls etc..

I wished “Adab  Arz” to the one who was selling waist coats. He responded: “Adab  Arz”.

It was substantially after a long time that I got opportunity to chat with a Kashmiri. I seized the opportunity. Soon we entered into a chat. I said that I am a Pandit from Srinagar, living in exile due to the turmoil in the valley. He was from Ashmuj-Kulgam and so was the one selling shawls.

I said: “Are you Mujahid or Soieth or Tuetch or Nabedhie?”(Mujahid is the one who got Arms training across the border:  Soieth is the translation of wick and the name is given to those who are locally trained; Tuetch in Kashmiri is the translation for mop and the name is given to those who without any training carry gun on their shoulders and accompany Mujahids and Soieth ; Nabedhie is the translation for sugar crystals and the name is given to renegades who fight against Mujahid, Soieth and Tuetch)

He said: “I am none of the four. I am simply making my livelihood when back home; it is chill cold and no source of income to sustain.”

I said: “It is the first day of the holy month of Ramzan. Your appearance with Nimaz mark on your forehead speaks much about you. You with trimmed beard seem to be an orthodox Musalman. I am sure, you are on fast. Speak the truth.”

He said: “I am a Mujahid.”

I said: “Wherefrom did you get your training?”

He said: “I fought for ten years against Russian forces in Afghanistan”.

I said: “What Arms and ammunition do you know to handle?”

He said: “I can down supersonic or any plane in one shot (eisharay say jihaz ko gira sakta huen)

In the meantime, the shawl vender joined us.

I said: “What about him?”

He said: “He too is a Mujahid and he too fought against Russian forces for ten years.”

One younger boy around twenty selling wrist watches joined us. He was from village Kilam.

I asked about him. He said that he was none of the four categories of the militants.

I said: “How is it possible that he could be immune to militancy when the village Kilam is adjacent to militancy infested village Ashmuej and shares the common water mill for grinding their grains. He said that why should he lie when he spoke plainly about himself and the other one. I asked the watch vender for the reason of his being in Amritsar. He said: “The youth in Kilam suffers torture at the hands of STF forces. Any youth in action shoes and jeans is the target of the STF inspector, let loose by Farooq Abdullah Government.”

“When so trained in warfare, why he left the battle field and took to a hawker’s job?” said I.

He said: “Some of us turned traitors. They got heavy toll killed and many arrested.

Organization, heads asked us to disperse for the time being to escape arrest and the bullet in an encounter. You must have seen a good number of Kashmiris working as Cycle rickshaw pullers. They all are here to escape saboteurs.

“You are not from Soibugh either” B K Dass

1995, militancy in the valley was at its peak and it had already spread its tentacles across the tunnel at Jammu the winter capital of the State. Bomb blasts at Jammu had become a routine matter. Bomb blast at Digiana had already cost a heavy toll of human life, besides maiming the limbs of many.

July, 1995 at 11 PM I was in a queue at Digiana STD Booth to avail of a concessional telephone call @ 25% of the routine rate. One in the queue pointed to another person and told me that he too was a Kashmiri. I asked the person about his name. He said that his name was Abdul Rashid (Name changed).

“Despite hostile environment, we Kashmiri Pundits are here at Jammu in scorching heat because of compulsion. What made you to be here at Jammu to suffer the hot climate along with us” said I.

Rashid: “I am posted here at the Police Station Digiana and frisk people to ensure safety and security of people.”

“In the Valley wherefrom do you come” said I.

Rashid: “I am from Sebdan.”

“Do you know Hriday Nath from Sebdan? His father was Mokdum of Sebdan” said I.

Rashid: “No I don’t know Hriday Nath.”

“In that case, you can’t be from Sebdan” said I.

Rashid: “I am from Soibugh.”

“Do you know Ghulam Hassan? He was working in Cooperative Department and he died very young.”

Rashid: “No, I don’t know Ghulam Hassan.”

I said: “Then you are not from Soibugh either.”

Rashid: “I am from Wadwan, adjacent to Sebdan and Soibugh.”

Without referring to any name. I said: “It is a white lie. In any case, you can’t be from Wadwan.”

Rashid: “Why can’t I be from Wadwan?”

I said: “Hundred percent of the Wadwan habitants are followers of Jamati Islami. They are fighting Jihad. How come you are in J&K Police fighting against Mujahids?”

Rashid: “Koranus pueth tuel metie bunduk choen verien. Atie yelie ne drav kinhee, hendostan chue boed muluk te mai dichuekh nokrie tohie tulushie kurnea bapuet” (I swear by Koran. I too picked up gun as a militant and fought against the Government for four years. It did not yield any result. India is a great country that provided me with a job to frisk you people.)

Brijdass te Girdass chue venan lasiv te basiv

A Big Discovery!

The truth is rightly said to be bitter. I lost relations with one of my friends temporarily for five years and one of my relations permanently. Relations with one of my friends got revived after a gap of five

Kamla Shouri Pyari Babi in commanding position

Dolly the divine gift to her mother-in-law

Dolly the divine gift to her mother-in-law

Dolly the divine gift to her mother-in-law

years.

 Badi Amma had to go to bed without food and spend sleepless night for she could not bear humiliation. The other one longed for death that evaded her for too long.

Some blame the present time and the present progeny. But my father narrated to me an incident of early 20th Century when he was in his prime youth. People rushed to enquire about the commotion in his neighbourhood. Their intervention saved an old man who was being beaten by his sons. Next day in the morning some of them were seen in the Zaindar Sahab graveyard getting branches of a mulberry tree. When asked the purpose, they said:”Bub gav sorgus; vanie chue tumisundhi khetrea veman bunavuen” (Father left for his heavenly abode. Now we are making heavenly chariot for him).

Early seventies, Assadullah, one of my colleagues asked me about my children. I said that I am father of two daughters. He put his finger under his teeth and expressed regrets for not having a son. He said that he believed that father of two sons has light to his two eyes (Dhouen cheshmuen gash). I told him that in my Mohalla, there is a Pundit ji who has seven sons. They have assigned one particular day for each to beat him, so that he did not succumb to beating by all together on a day. Anand Joo had a balanced domestic budget. Each one of his six sons used to contribute to run the household comfortably. One day he expressed his anguish to my father. He had regrets for his deficit budget. His second son Chaman Lal (Name changed) had not paid him as much as he used to pay. Chaman Lal justified his cut for being at his in-laws for two weeks. Anand Joo had regrets for he was taken unaware. 

                                                                                                But

All is not dark. Even this time there are Shrawan Kumars around. 28^th May, 2012, to my surprise, retired Session Judge Nazir Ahmmad Kawoos left for his job only after he tied diaper to his old bed ridden uncle with instructions that he may feel at ease until his return and he would change his diaper if needed on his return. Umar Kawoos sought permission from his bedridden uncle of his father before he left for his job. http://youtu.be/H-TDY-jHKOU

16^th February, 2015 I discovered the most virtuous daughter-in-law in Dolly who serves her ailing mother-in-law Piary Babi with devotion and sincerity. I was extremely impressed by her sincerity and her obedience towards her elders. My eyes got this treat after a pretty long time. Her services to her ailing mother-in-law are exemplary. She does not let her go to washroom alone. She feeds her with her own hands. She keeps her in commanding position. She massages her and ensured her recovery from a paralytic attack much earlier than the doctor’s commitment. My inner soul blessed her. 

P L Saproo the divine gift to his mother Babhi-Shyam Rani Saproo

Before he left for his job, Ummar kawoos sought permission from the bed ridden uncle of his father.

 

Before he left for his job, Ummar kawoos sought permission from the bed ridden uncle of his father.

Communal card that rescued me while in distress

The late Mohammad Amin Khan, Field Officer Oriental Insurance Company used to spend maximum free time with me. He was watching my activities closely. One day in September 1989, my landline 278777 buzzed and it was Mohammad Amin Khan on the other end. He expressed his outburst and accused me of being communal. He justified his charge for I used to give my total insurance business to Vijay Kaw instead to him, besides I used to send my vehicles for any breakdown to the workshop of Bansi Lal at Batmaloo.

Vijay Kaw was son of the cousin of my wife. Those days he was without any job. He was doing general insurance business as an agent of National Insurance Company and so he was my choice on priority. Besides, he earned my contract for electric fitting & fixtures of all my construction works.
Khan Sahab had never asked me for any insurance business. He carried the notion that his unspoken words should earn him my insurance business. My priority for Vijay Kaw, unemployed those days was to provide him with the little that I could manage.
To cool fuming Khan Sahab, I checked all my insured properties and was delighted to find that insurance of our residential building was due for renewal.  I paid for the renewal by an account payee cheque in favour of the Oriental Insurance Company. Roughed feathers got smoothened and relations became normal. The communal became secular with the little favourable business.
As usual four days before mass migration of Kashmiri Pundits, I left for Jammu on 16th January, 1990. Return was presumed to be by 1st March 1990, the first working day after winter vacations. Presumption proved wrong and each passing day till date evaded my return.
May, 1990 I got a phone call from Vijay Kaw from Srinagar.  He informed me about the insurance renewal dates of my busses, matadors, and other vehicles. I told him that all my vehicles at Jammu were in the junkyard for want of fuel and usage and grew grass within. I requested him to let me know the insurance renewal dates of my immovable properties viz school buildings and bookshop. Those days in absence of mobile connectivity I repeatedly, in the hostile sun, phoned Vijay Kaw from STD booths, but he preferred not to oblige me. Now he had no business interests in me and I was no more Jija ji for him.
Insurance cover for all the properties insured by Vijay Kaw expired on different dates. Colossal financial loss was caused to me when the properties without insurance renewal were set ablaze by Jihadists on different dates.
August 1990, message came to me that our residential house at Zainakot Srinagar too was set ablaze by Jihadists. This was the only property that was not insured by Vijay Kaw. Luckily it had gone to Mohammad Amin Khan’s business. Somehow, the cheque book counterfoil was with me.  I heaved a sigh of relief when I checked the counterfoil date pertained to September 1989. The insurance of the property was in force until September 1990 a few days ahead of the day it was reduced to rubble.
Till date Vijay Kaw did not disclose the reason of his betrayal and the same is a riddle to me.
Pray the Lord may prune my vices.

My Home in debris

My Home in debris

My Home in debris

My Home in debris

Aadhi aur

For two time meals, he managed with a local dhaba (roadside restaurants). Each meal for two chapattis per meal cost him not more than four annas per meal. (One fourth of a rupee) @one chapatti/per one anna( One sixteenth of a rupee).

Within two days the Manager cum owner cum chef; all in one developed affinity with his new customer Jagar Nath. In view of his little intake, he suggested boarding lodging to Jagar Nath at a contractual fixed rate of Rs.15 per month with no bar on his intake. It suited Jagar Nath. He readily accepted and executed the plan. He calculated that otherwise also it cost him Rs.15 per month, though under fed. The suitable offer assured him bellyful meal plus board and lodging.

The same evening, Jagar Nath with his bedroll under his armpit and the small trunk in hand arrived at his new destination. It was a small place in the first floor, hardly to accommodate one cot. Its ceiling was five feet above its floor. Fridge and fan were not invented for the hotel as yet.

That evening Jagar Nath ate one more than his routine two. The next morning his lunch was double of the routine two. Each passing day, his score showed an upward graph. The manager was committed. He digested his wrong calculation and tolerated the losses incurred.
One day, the manager continued to run from the tandoor to the plate of Jagar Nath to place one more on demand. Tired of the run, the manager now started throwing one more on demand directly on to the plate from the tandoor. The score crossed two dozen. Now the Manager lost the count too. Finally to the demand ‘adhi aur’ the Manager lost all his patience. He went upstairs, packed his bedroll and trunk and threw it on the road. He cancelled his contract and lost all the payment that accrued almost by the fag end of the contractual month.
Jagar Nath is not an exception. 15th December, 2010 I was one of the guests at KC Plaza on the occasion of Ghaer Achuen program hosted by Dr. R K Raina, Joint Director-Senior Scientist RRL Jammu. Dr. R C Dhar (Professor of Chemistry was my invitee. For more than one hour we obliged the boys who offered us fried fish, kebab, dry fruit, and different varieties of veg and non veg. After more than one hour eating and munching, we were asked to have our lunch. Around one of the standing tables, Dr. R C Dhar, Dr.R K Raina, Professor B L Raina, the chief host and I placed our heavily filled plates to justify our lunch. I posed a question to both the Chemistry people as to what mechanism processes all that we dump into this tandoor (belly). Both said in consensus that what the natural tandoor processes in four hours will not get processed in mechanical processor for even twenty years.
Like that of Jagar Nath I too eat much more than my usual diet on marriages may be to justify the payment that my host pays to the contractor. It seems that my tandoor too is sublet on contract.

Men of Character

19th century, during the reign of Mahraja Partap Singh, I am told that my grandfather Pundit Thakur Dass Bazaz was a merchant dealing in pashmina. In view of that profession some of our relations name our surname as Bazaz as well. His shop was on the bank of the River Jhelum in the close proximity of the then Mission School Habbakadal or say in the neighbourhood of the residence of the late Pundit Amar Nath Mattoo (Ex. Headmaster Biscoe School) Pundit Jagar Nath Mattoo (Retd. Education Officer), Pundit Tusli Nath Misri (Ex. Headmaster Biscoe School). My grandfather used to get his supplies in ‘khoetch’ (A large boat that was used to ferry goods). It is said that Biscoe Sahab used to visit Mission School Habba Kadal and Mission School Fateh Kadal in a boat. On way to Habbakadal Mission School, Biscoe Sahab usually used to have a brief stopover and exchange pleasantries with my grandfather and other locals around in Kashmiri language.
Pundit Thakur Dass used to gift ‘poetch’, shirt and trousers annually to some professional thieves. In return he was assured safety and security of his shop. Thakur Dass was extremely religious minded. Early morning he used to go for circumambulation of Hari Parbat. With little Bank facilities, he used to tie his daily cash in an indigenous cotton belt and wear the belt for 24x7 hours. One day while on routine circumambulation of Hari Parbat, he was greeted at Naidkadal by one of the thieves who was his beneficiary. After he reached his home, he realized that he had lost his belt somewhere. He was upset for the whole day. At sunset, the one who had met him at Naidkadal visited him at his shop. He asked him for the reason of his indifferent mood. Thakur Dass told him that he lost his belt containing cash of a few days. The man took out the belt hidden under his ‘pheran’ and returned it to him. 
Every evening Thakur Dass used to visit Bairav Mandir at Batmaloo (Nursing Garh) . Those days Karan Nagar was a jungle and deserted area. One evening despite his futile struggle he gave in and the robber robed his ‘chader’. 
A few days later the Naid Kadal man visited him. He did not find him clad in his usual dress. Thakur Dass narrated him the whole episode. The man within 24 hours recovered his chader from the thief of that jurisdiction and returned the same to him.
I asked one history sheeter, whether he does not have human heart to feel that his victim may die with his strike and the victim’s children may become orphans and his wife a widow. He said: “Have you ever heard that a Kashmiri thief committed a theft at the cost of life.” I said” No, never.” He said “We will spit at booty worth crores if it is at the cost of life.”1967, the history sheeter stood like a rock at the door of his barrack No:9 to save inmates of the barrack from goons let loose by Mr. Qureshi the then jail Superintendent. He challenged the goons to touch any of his guests. Hamid Voer a burglar was asked by Session Judge Sopore at Pattan whether he continued with his job. The burglar said: “No sir, the job was handed over to ‘revolutionaries’.
Unlike today’s non professionals who did not spare even their neighbour, these professional thieves were men of character