90

Dear Readers,

                      After a hiatus of 27 years, the valley of Kashmir reverberated with the humming of throngs of people queuing up to cast their votes in the Legislative Assembly elections. The impressive voter turnout ( a whopping 72%) filled the hearts of incorrigible optimistic enthusiasts like me to wish well for the future of this unique province of India. May God bless the people of Kashmir with a restored 'normalcy'.

                     The images of beautiful men and women wearing pherans reminded me of the latest flick on Kashmir doled out by Vishal Bharadwaj, Haider. The critically acclaimed movie portrays the trials and tribulations faced by Kashmiri youth today after years of militancy, soaring unemployment and opportunistic politics. Haider is a young lad who is the main character of the story. 

                          In the end scene of the movie, it is the mother of the protagonist Haider who blows herself up as a human bomb to put an end to the vicious circle of "intekham" or vengeance which lays engulfing the life and conditions of the people of Kashmir. Probably, the symbolism of this climax has got reflected in the picture of a 102 year old mother at Bandipore who, as reported, came out to vote despite threats to life from Jaish-e-Mohammad. The mothers of Kashmir have decided to brighten the future of their lads....it seems...  

89 The shadow of light

Dear Readers, 

                   There comes a few times in your lifetime, moments which bring you face to face with the ones who shape your mind, whom you admire, with whom you debate or disagree, who influence your thought cycle directly or indirectly and I had my share of this novel experience when I met the legendary Professor of Medieval Indian History, Irfan Habib Sahib at his home turf, in his office room at the Aligarh Muslim University. My understanding about medieval India is highly influenced by his writings. 

                After a pleasurable drive from Jaipur to Aligarh racing past lush green fields of the Ganga-Yamuna doab spotted here and there with those typically affluent UP'ite mango orchards ( aam ki bagichian), I reached Aligarh in the late evening of November 10th. The next morning, the day I was to present my paper at a conference here organized on the theme of Foreign Relations of India during the medieval times, I met that iconic personality. 

            As if the calm and composure that surrounded Professor Habib's aura was not enough, the sheer depth of the look in his eyes ( due to the volume and weight of his knowledge and analysis) matched with his immaculate medieval court-like gestures completely unsettled me. It took me 4.5 seconds to gather myself and answer to his seemingly simple question, " So, where have they lodged you on campus?". 

               Stammering and faltering, I somehow managed to keep pace with his conversation. He pointed out some follies, hinted at some rectifications and made a suggestion about further research on my topic. At the end, when he cast a half-glance on the stack of papers on his desk, I learnt that even at the age of 83, he has enough desk work to keep him occupied till dusk and that it was time to take his leave. So I did, and as soon as I felt my limbs walking through the corridor, it felt as if an unknown shadow of light had permeated the inner membranes of my mind...

                  Kafir-e-ishqam musalmani mara darkaar neest

                 Har rag-e mun taar gashta hajat-e zunnaar neest;
                 Az sar-e baaleen-e mun bar khez ay naadaan tabeeb
                Dard mand-e ishq ra daroo bajuz deedaar neest;
                Nakhuda dar kashti-e maagar nabashad go mubaash
                Makhuda daareem mara nakhuda darkaar neest;
                Khalq mi goyad ki Khusrau but parasti mi kunad
                Aarey aarey mi kunam ba khalq mara kaar neest...

Amir Khusraw