Surma Niy’em: The threads of time

Representing a rich heritage, stone carving has thrived in Kashmir for centuries. Among the various traditional artifacts, our traditional mini-mortar and pestle, locally referred to as Surma Niy’em or Khallur, used to grind Sang-e-Surma to a fine powder, reflects the enduring legacy of stone-crafted items in daily life.

Crafted by traditional stone carvers in the valley known as “sang tarash”, Surma Niy’em was used to mash the glittering surma stones to powder, an age-old practice that once defined Kashmir’s rich culture of timeless beauty, now faded into obscurity.

Although the ancient eye cosmetic is now widely available, decades ago it was only bought from Madina (Arab) by our elders during Hajj. Brought in the shape of small shiny grey stones, it was called Ithmid (pronounced as Ismid), the asli surma (real antimony).

Usually Sang-e-Surma  was pulverized into powder by our elderly women in Surma Niy’em—a testament to the unique marvel of stone carving, known also those days as Surma Kaen (stone masher to grind surma). Identified also by names like kharal, musul, khalbatta, etc., the Surma Niy’em was rare even then unlike other traditional culinary stone items.

Surma, also known as Kohl, is used for various eye ailments either alone or in combination with other herbal or mineral ingredients. It was used for impaired eyesight, ophthalmia, cataract, itching, redness, irritation, watering of eyes, and shedding of eyelashes. Not just this, applying Ithmid surma to eyes before going to bed was considerd as Sunnah of the Messenger of Allah (pbuh).

The Prophet (pbuh) in a Hadith (Sunan Abi Davood Book 28, Hadith 3869), narrated by Abdullah Ibn Abbas (radhi Allahu anhu), mentioned: “… Among the best types of collyrium you use is antimony (Ithmid): it clears the vision and makes the hair (eyelashes) sprout or grow.”

The earliest use of surma dates back to 3100 BC in the Protodynastic period of Egypt by Egyptian queens and noblewomen who used stibnite, a sulfide of antimony (Sb), an element or an ore. It was used to protect eyes from the harsh sun as well as a remedy for different eye ailments, at a time when there were no ophthalmologists.

From North Africa to the Middle East, surma has been used for over 5000 years. The practice of applying surma also takes us back to the Mughal era when Kings and Queens stored it in Surma Dani, crafted of brass metal—considered more helpful to the eyes in addition to looking attractive.

Surma Niy’em represents a significant aspect of Kashmir's cultural heritage, intertwining daily life with traditional practices that span millennia. The meticulous craftsmanship of the “sang tarash” in creating these stone mortars, exemplifies a commitment to preserving cultural rituals and remedies. This connection to heritage underscores the profound cultural importance of surma, beyond its medicinal benefits.

Today, while surma remains accessible in modern packaging and various formulations, the traditional methods and the cultural significance behind its use are less visible. The transition from using hand-ground surma in Surma Niy’em to commercially available products marks a shift in how cultural practices adapt to changing times, yet the essence of these traditions continues to resonate within the community.

My memories of childhood are so sepia-tinted—in short, I can’t resist recalling how my mother would bring home, a black boat-shaped Surma Niy’em every year from a Sikh neighbor, hardly to get availed then.

For days, she would grind those shiny surma stones, locally known as Surma Tulle on it in the yard under the scorching sun by either adding plain water or plant fluid to it. While she broke the glittering stones with a Tchou’t (small pestle) she chanted, “Che Loguth Sorme Cheshman Meh Kortham Dil Wobaeli, Che Chey Geso Pareshan Meh Gae Sahmar Nailey…” which still reverberates in my ears.

Only later, I had seen my grandma Lt. Zoon Ded, mixing zamzam water and at times, arq-e-gulab (rose water) with it in traditional Surma Niy’em. As children, whenever in childhood, we

fumbled in her pheran pockets for a toffee, our hands would straight come out with an Aaleh Khalde (traditional fabric pouch) which had surma tujj (a stick to apply surma), dunde khalal (a tooth-pick) and kan-e-kashu (an ear spoon for cleaning ears)—all in brass, tied to it. It was probably her daily use of Ithmid surma that prevented her to wear any spectacles even in her old age.

In preserving and acknowledging the historical context of surma and its traditional preparation, we honor the legacy of those who passed down these practices through generations. The Surma Niy’em, and the stories it carries, serve as a tangible link to our rich past—reminding us of the timeless beauty and wisdom embedded in our cultural heritage. Come; let’s embark on a journey of preservation and revitalization to safeguard this heritage for future generations.

Manzoor Akash is a regular GK contributor, author and educationist