Our Grandmothers’ Lullabies
Who doesn’t love their Nani (grandma)? As we grow up, we realize that no amount of money or success can replace the love, kindness, and care of our grandmothers. They’re the keepers of tradition, passing down stories, values, and lullabies that connect us to our roots. Remember, those soothing lullabies or loriyan (locally Lulnavun) they sang to lull us to sleep, are a vital part of our cultural heritage. But how sad! The custom of singing lullabies is slowly disappearing in today’s fast-paced world, replaced by digital distractions. Let’s cherish and preserve this beautiful tradition before it is lost forever.
As grandmothers crooned to their little ones at home, they were not just singing a tune they rather shared stories, myths, and history. Their lullabies often narrated the tales of hardships, of hope, and resilience, criticizing oppression through allegories. Their lullabies had a language of their own—conveying values, morals, cultural wisdom, traditions and the essence of Kashmiri identity. In those grandmothers’ lullabies, one could discover the beauty of one’s roots, and a sense of purpose bridging the past and the present.
In Islam, lullabies were traditionally recitations of Qur’anic verses (Aayat) or prayers (Du’a) while caring for little ones. Hazrat Halimah Al-Saidiyah, Prophet Muhammad’s (pbhu) foster mother, and his milk sister Al-Shaimma would sing lullabies seeking Allah’s protection, long life, and care for the Prophet (pbhu). Over time, lullabies evolved to incorporate local flavors and cultural tunes, but our grandmothers’ generation believed they originated from a place of devotion and faith.
In today’s world, parenting has become increasingly screen-dependent, with mothers glued to their mobile phones from pre-birth to infancy. But can we really expect our children to develop healthy phone habits when we’re setting a poor example? It’s heartbreaking to see infants who can’t sleep without a mobile phone in hand. Machines will never be able to replicate the warmth and love of a grandmother’s lullaby. It’s time for modern mothers to put down their phones and reconnect with our rich cultural heritage. By singing traditional lullabies, we can pass on valuable lessons, preserve our native vocabulary, and keep our oral traditions alive.
There are so many enchanting lullabies that our grandmothers sung. Though due to space restraint, I cant site all of them, except a few here; yet, it is stark reality that those grandmothers’ lullabies were our asset. Literally, I have quite often heard my Nani lulling babies to sleep in her soothing lap while crooning those striking lullabies like Hukus Bukus Telyi Wan Tschkus, Onum Battoukh Lodoum Deygye, Shwaas Khich Khich Wamano, Bishte Bishte Byareo Khute Kho Wun, Toreh Kyuho Woluth Babre Pun; Sa Kamune Truwoth Kootarun..., and Goor Goor Kariyo Kane Kay Dooru...The lullaby that I sometimes coax my own baby to sleep with, is: Mouj Balai Lajiya, Door Balai Tsajiyo, Moul Gayyo Gaamun, Tore Aaw Shamun…(loosely translated as: May you be saved from evil, and your mother protect you from it. Your father has gone to village, and shall return in evening).
According to noted Kashmiri writer & social activist, Zareef Ahmad Zareef, “Our Grandmothers lullabies still live on, what though new generation has no knowledge of them. They are whispers of love, echoes of tradition and heart beat of our cultural heritage.” “In those lullabies, there are stories which we need to narrate to our modern generation so that they don’t fade into obscurity”, he further added.
It is a harsh truth that tunes of our ancestors are fading away, drowned by modern noise. Kashmir’s rich cultural heritage, once filled with cradle songs and lullabies, is growing quiet. This silence is changing the way people live and feel, both in cities and villages. When we lose touch with our language and culture, we risk forgetting who we are and where we come from. Kids growing up today are caught between different identities, leaving them feeling lost and unsure. They are struggling to belong. But there is hope: if we revive our Kashmiri language and rich traditions. One small step at a time, and I am absolutely sure, we can reconnect with our roots and find our true selves again.
The author is a regular contributor to GK’s Senior Citizens’ Lounge & hails from Sopore
