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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 »
Filed under: Kashmir-Talk
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 »
Filed under: Kashmir-Talk
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 »
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My Memoir: My Uncle
A Ghulam Nabi My Uncle My Memoir: My Uncle Part II Z.G. Muhammad “Words could never tell the joy an uncle brings; an uncle is a bond of faith that even time can’t sever, a gift to last all of our lives.” I don’t know who has said it. Whosoever has said it, whether a big name in literature or an anonymous fellow, but he has said it pretty well? Sometimes, writings by anonymous writers are as rich in content as Shakespearean or Dickensian quotes. At the cost of monotony, let many say he was what we in Urdu call Kaus-e-Qaza- rungoon ki dhanak- a blend of pleasing colours- with multiple shades. He followed a golden principle about life, ‘live your life to the fullest,’ yet was mystic- yes, a mystic to the kernel. … Read entire article »
Filed under: Kashmir-Talk
An Offbeat Day With Writers (ZGM)
An Offbeat Day Z.G. Muhammad It was not mundane at all; there was not much excitement, but it was an offbeat day in as much as it was different from the past one thousand and odd days. Of course, sitting amongst a host of short story writers, most of them young, dreaming of making it to the list of Booker awardees Kiran Desai, Mohsin Hamid, Arundhati Roy and Geetanjali, it was a rendezvous with a utopian world. It was an engagement distant from the “new-norm world, ” in which many a friend and I have been living. In a small busy street connected to the Residency Road, filled with honks and horns, hawkers shout, vendors jeer, and teenyboppers giggle, there is a niche- as silent as cosy lovers’ corner in salubrious highlands. The … Read entire article »
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My Memoir: My Uncle And Grandmother’s Myth Part I
My Memoir: My Uncle Grandmother’s About Her Son Part One By Zahid G Muhammad Spotting an aeroplane in the blue skies in downtown Srinagar, miles away from the airstrip built by Maharaja Hari Singh for the landing of his private aircraft on an elevated plateau in Budgam, was a rarity. Nonetheless, it was full of excitement and thrill. Those were the times when even streets outside our home were as desolate as deserts, with the City Bus Service passing … Read entire article »
Filed under: Kashmir-Talk