Motherland
What does the word conjure up for you? What memories float in front of your eyes, or fill your nostrils? What sounds echo, what memories come rushing past?
I have always lived my memories of Kashmir through the stories narrated by my family. My family would usually end these stories with – “isko yaad nahin hoga yeah to bohut choti thi”.
I have not lived in Kashmir for a few decades now. And yet, my connection to the land is real and the bond strong. So strong and real that it clouds my sense of belonging to any place I have lived in since we left the valley.
The question- “where are you from?” always makes me pause. My instinct is to say, Kashmir. But, with time, I have learnt to pause and choose another answer because my instinctive answer seems inauthentic. But no other answer seems true as well. And I have wondered why! So, going to Kashmir was partly a quest to find the answer to “where am I from?”, even if the answer is, “not here”.
There’s a word in Hindi- Laad! It conjures up the image of love sprinkled on kids by elders, in hugs, food, gifts, occasional daant and frequent blessing and every form that love can take. My life in Kashmir was an abundance of laad from neighbor’s who were more like family. When life at home seemed uninteresting or even unbearable, I had many places to escape to. Mitti didi’s mother would make me dinner, Guddi Behan Ji would make lunch. When fear of getting into trouble bothered me, I would hide with OP Didi and Robbi Didi. When I broke my nose, Mitti didi took me to the hospital.
When I left Kashmir, the laad I received was left behind. Family remained with me, but the places I escaped to were now gone. Along with those sanctuaries went my innocence and safety of the village.
I now realise that my parent’s frequent mention of life in Kashmir is not nostalgia about the place or the food! It’s the nostalgia of the people they left behind. Nostalgia of the family they created to be with the family they were related to.
To anyone else, the oft repeated “heaven on earth” description might speak of the physical beauty of Kashmir. To me, my heaven on earth reminds me of laad.
We all live in nostalgia, some of us more than others. Especially when the present seems morose, we sigh and take solace in the interestingness of the past – because, if we can imagine parts of the past, we can make it rosier!
——
“जन्नतें जहां है कश्मीर
अपने देश की शान है कश्मीर”
किसी के लिए एक रोमैन्स और किसी के लिए बग़ावत
किसी का बिछड़ा घर और किसी का ड्रीम वेकेशन
मेरे लिए?
मेरे लिए
दिवाली की फुलझड़ी
जन्माष्टमी की झांकी
ईद की फिरनी
राखी की खीर
प्याज़ की लाल चटनी
मलाई जैसे हाक के पत्ते
बसंत में खिलते हुए फूलों का ज़ायक़ा
नून चाई में चुपके से डाली हुई चीनी के दो दाने
लाल मिर्च की नदी में तेरते हुए दुम आलू
हड्डियों तक पहुँचने वाली सर्दियों की ठंड और
काँगड़ी में जलते कोयले की ख़ुशबू
सुभा की धुँध में कुछ छुपे हुए पहाड़
रात में झिलमिलाते तारों से भरा आसमान
बारिश में शीर चाई जैसी और गर्मियों में लिप्टन जैसी जेलम
सैटर्डे की फ़िल्में और चुपके से स्मगल किए हुए कबाब की ख़ुशबू
पड़ोसियों का प्यार और, कभी कभी , प्यार से लदी डाँट
अपनों से ज़्यादा अपने और अपनों से अपने अज्नबी
मेरे लिए लाड है
प्यार है
याद है
बचपन है
पूरा बचपन! कश्मीर!