A Longing for that blissful ignorance

When our eyes first glimpsed the canvas of our Kashmiri society, a tapestry woven with threads of a blissful ignorance welcomed us. Born in a village devoid of all present day comforts – no roads, no lights - a serene satisfaction enveloped the living as if life’s every luxury was within our grasp.

Love, the most exquisite treasure of the universe, was our constant companion. A web of connections, familial ties intertwined every one living, into maternal and paternal kins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Both maternal & paternal realms- all were embraced as our own. It was only when the new age dawned and revelations struck us like lightning; we realized that those we deemed as our own- the kith & kins were of a different fold.

Our elders, then steeped in ignorance, toiled collectively when tasks loomed large. Those blessed with plows tilled not just their land but the lands of others too. There was no need for invitations to be sent to people when paddy was ready to be harvested – instead messages from such people flew, self-initiated, announcing their arrival on particular dates.

And passion ignited like a flame, celebrating harvests as if it were a grand festival. In the evenings post the harvest the people in neighbouring households took pleasure in gathering in the farmer family halls adjacent often agjacent to their kitchen; with younger ones voluntaring to wash & massage the limbs of the elderly who had been in fields with warm water. Some men and boys adept at singing, taking to dancing on the beats of drums, tambourines, and hand cymbals. The songs cuckooed were usually the folklores.

A house constructed meant a journey to the jungle, shouldering hefty logs through arduous paths; plus the people carried tons of clay crowning the walls and the roofs alike. Come evenings they collectively savoured the spoils of the forest – consuming ghee ladden sattoo and Noon-Chai, & of course adding salt & butter to the tales of stolen indulgence.

At marriages not only the bride or the groom adorned with henna, but the entire clan took to be embellished with it; and the rest of the ignorant village folk embarking on to their tasks on their own, as if they were the hosts themselves. The fools as they were, helped the head chef in preparation of wazwan and then dished it out without much fuss. No one, whether served or serving felt hurt. Nor did anyone demand to be paid.

In those days of ignorance the women folk back home gleaned the corn grains meticulously, as if adorning a bride’s hair, threshing wheat or oats was done under the blazing sun with bullocks first trampling the produce underneath their hooves. To the children the clinging on to tails of these tied bulls it was more a sport than a punishment and was jocundly endured.

Everyone feeling the hurt; illness or demise, was met with wails echoing so loudly, thereupon blurring the identity of whose loved one was sick or had been been lost. Others’ children’s joy was celebrated as one’s own. Yes, the valley of ignorant who were not even aware of crimes and lawsuits, who spent six months after cattle collecting and drying their dung and then another six months in burning it.

As time danced forward, a new era unfurled. A generation aware, educated, understanding the subtle truth – thought that we inhabitants of Kashmir could prosper better upon division; the division set on the basis of religion lead to a painful migration. Then the inhabitants predominantly being Muslims in faith, were told to have distinct races, tribes, regions, and also the belief sets. As distinctions lingered in setting us into distinct brotherhoods, tribes, and races; we’re no longer just humans, but distinct identity holding creatures.

Now everyone wanted to prove his elevated status and privileged position. For this it was essential to say less and understand more. Anyone not participating in this mad race was considered cowardly and a despicable person. Now, although people shifted into expansive homes, but they were cramped and a sense of constriction filled the air. Suddenly those lands that used to bring people closer, became full of animosity.

Now animosities permeated every fibre. we squandered the treasure known as love. The lessons of humanity were now lost. Consequently, hatreds escalated. In the intoxication of superiority, we destroyed the tranquility of our homes, forgetting that the superiority lies in ethical excellence.

Now, among those ignorant elders, a few who are alive are entangled in the struggle between life and death. If one dies, another wishes to witness his demise. However, we progressive prosperous conscious individuals loathe such ignorant actions because therein looms the threat of our own degradation. Such actions are an affront to dignity of a human.

How great will it be if we muster strength today to eradicate all the internal animosities? Perhaps then, Allah might grant forgiveness, and we may escape the fire of hatred. So that no child becomes an orphan, no one’s share remains unclaimed, and no one’s lap is left empty. So that we can cherish life’s precious blessings and draw inspiration from the beauty of this universe, creating an environment for our future generations where they immerse themselves in the heights of consciousness, actions, and roles.