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Mothers Are God’s Blessing. My Mother-Part III

My Mother Part III She had not been to a school. In the desert of illiteracy that had been the fate of the overwhelming majority, both men and women, particularly women, she had not been a lone traveller; she had a swarm of companions. Of course, in her generation, some exceptions were fortunate to have been admitted to a Christen Missionary School; one of them had been my mother-in-law. She would be nostalgic about the days when she, along with some other girls of her locality, embarked on a boat at Nawa Kadal Ghat for the school near Fateh Kadal, the third bridge on Jhelum- ferrying the girls to the school was arranged by the school free of any charge. She perhaps had done her matriculation. She taught in a school … Read entire article »

Filed under: Kashmir-Talk

My Mother Part II

My Memoir: Story of An Ordinary Man My Mother Part II  You often smile when you look back at your childhood and giggle at your innocence. There is a lot of thrill in reminiscing about innocent acts and beliefs from childhood. Did we not believe, and believe with complete faith, that red beetles with black dots in lush green turf at Khanaqah Naqshbandi and Jamia Masjid were a Khuda-Sobin Batha-Phul—His staple food? Did we not eagerly wait for a feather of peacock kept inside a book to multiply after putting some sugar crystals in the book?  It’s never too late to enjoy a happy childhood. Anything connected with childhood is joy incarnate; it may be grandmother’s souvenirs in one of the Shahnisheen’s of Kani of our house, an old carved walnut box blackened … Read entire article »

Filed under: Kashmir-Talk

MY MOTHER PART I

My Mother Part- I My Mother My mother told me that I witnessed the Kashmir saga from the womb. She repeated it often, along with some bitter things connected with my birth. I did not understand what my mother wanted to convey. Perhaps, I was too young to understand the stories that ran parallel to when I had tumbled into this world with my shirt-button-sized bluish-brown eyes half shut on a chilly February Monday, precisely at seven mornings when the sky was ominously cast with dark clouds. The sun was still buried behind the Zabarwan hillock.    As I became older, I assumed it was a parable, fable, or myth that Mother was telling; after all, our entire tale is based on a well-known mythology – that survived as a religious belief with our … Read entire article »

Filed under: Kashmir-Talk

My Memoir: My Uncle – Part VI Search for Spiritual Solace by Z. G. Muhammad

My Memoir: My Uncle – Part VI  Search for Spiritual Solace by Z. G. Muhammad

My Memoir: My Uncle VI My Memoir: My Uncle VI It may also be true for other parts of the city and villages. As mausoleums and Khanqahs dotted downtown Srinagar, some trees also had a halo mystique around them that added surrealness to the atmosphere. Myths also had been woven around some of them. Some huckleberry trees on the vast expanse of Malakhah had their own mystical stories, and so had mulberry and Chinar trees in … Read entire article »

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My Memoir: My Uncle And His Spiritual Experiences Part V

My Memoir: My Uncle Part V By Z. G. Muhammad In our part of the city, the ambience, architecture and spirituality were blended into a ‘soul-repairing whole.’  The glistening golden minarets of mosques, hospices and mausoleums dominating the skyline in sync with the hymns emanating from them played a role in shaping the downtowners’ faith, beliefs and attitude towards life. Even the most robust and sturdy with herculean sinews were tender as tendrils at their heart. Even the toughs, roughs and rugged in the society melted like icicles in sunrays on seeing the suffering fellow folks. They outpaced the “elite” in rescuing people in distress and disastrous situations- fires, floods, earthquakes and road accidents. When the “elite” watched from a distance and expressed their regrets, they risked their lives, plunged into raging flames, … Read entire article »

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Story of An Era: Story of My Uncle Part iV

My Memoir: My Uncle Part IV Of Unique ecstasy, words fail Z. G. Muhammad He was like a bouquet. It would be fair to say he was an assortment of beautiful flowers, as varied as narcissus that heralds springs and chrysanthemum that greets winter with its diverse colours- each colour having its uniqueness. I am talking about my uncle, who loved to live a worldly life and relish the pleasures the world offered while remaining subsumed in the spiritual world. He was courage incarnate and had a booming voice that struck awe. The word timidity was not part of his lexicon; he taught me how to fight this malice, prologue to cowardice and eventually to a weak personality. I wrote about it long before in a column but will revert to a bit … Read entire article »

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My Memoir: My Uncle Part III -His Friends And Their Political Beliefs.

My Memoir: My Uncle Part III His Friends And Their Political Beliefs Z.G. Muhammad My mother, one day, abruptly banished me from Chasing swallows on the street outside our home – my elder brother did not admire running after this beautiful bird, so it did not matter to him. I was too young to venture the courage and ask my mother why my freedom was snatched when birds still had it. The only liberty I had was looking through the latticed window on the street outside our home. It wore a deserted look, dotted with men in Khaki and olive green. The only life on the linear road connecting the two four-way roundabouts of our Mohalla was the carefree swallows diving like jet fighter aircraft. I felt envious of the swallows and wanted … Read entire article »

Filed under: Kashmir-Talk