Our Traditional Poultry Culture
In the bustling Kupwara market, I stumbled upon a woman selling local roosters, triggering a flood of memories from the bygone era when every Kashmiri home, especially in villages, had the vibrant presence of roosters and hens. These feathered companions weren't just livestock; they were a lifeline for rural women, serving as a primary source of income.
Recollections transport me to a time when local poultry was an integral part of Kashmiri households. Rooster and hen were not merely farm animals; they symbolized tradition, sustenance, and a thriving community. As guests graced homes, the call to cook a local rooster echoed through the air, a familiar and comforting sound.
Eggs were prized possessions, coveted not only for their nutritional value but also as valuable assets. Rural women would barter eggs for essential household items, creating a unique economic system that revolved around these humble treasures.
The exchange of eggs wasn't solely transactional; it was a gesture of warmth and affection. Children visiting neighbours were often gifted eggs, a token of love that transcended economic value. Festivals brought with them a special ritual – the slaughtering and cooking of home-raised roosters and hens, a tradition that added a touch of authenticity to celebratory meals.
Newlywed brides embarked on their marital journey with a gift more precious than gold – hens and roosters. These feathered companions symbolized fertility, prosperity, and the continuation of traditions. The crowing of roosters before the Fajr prayer created a symphony that resonated with the heartbeat of Kashmiri mornings.
My late uncle, fondly known as Las Kak, possessed a unique skill – the art of slaughtering a rooster. His expertise turned him into the go-to person for the neighbourhood, as dozens of women sought his assistance in preparing the special dishes that accompanied festive occasions. Lask Lak's smile, etched with the satisfaction of fulfilling a communal need, became a beacon of unity.
Festivals, especially Eid, transformed my uncle's residence into a hub of anticipation. Women and children patiently waited in line, their excitement palpable as they awaited their turn to have their roosters expertly slaughtered. The air buzzed with camaraderie, the shared experience of celebrating traditions that defined the essence of Kashmiri life.
Yet, the winds of change have swept away those dreams. The nostalgic yearning for the sight of local eggs and roosters in today's reality feels like chasing a fleeting mirage. However, in the Kupwara market, I found a connection to the past – a local rooster that now belongs to me. Its crowing before the Fajr prayer promises to bring me everlasting joy, a reminder of a time when the simple act of raising and caring for these birds wove the fabric of a vibrant and close-knit community.
The author is a regular GK contributor
