The genius who was too smart for his time
History has an interesting way of treating those who dare to think differently. The greatest minds of the past were often not celebrated in their times, but were instead ridiculed, doubted, and in some cases, even persecuted. Take Galileo Galilei, for instance. Today, he is hailed as the father of modern astronomy, but in his time, his assertion that the earth moves around the sun was considered a blasphemy. He was forced to recant his findings under threat of torture. Newton, one of the most brilliant scientific minds in history, was probably mocked when he got excited over an apple falling from a tree. “Oh look, another madman obsessed with fruit,” people must have muttered under their breath. Yet, that single moment of curiosity led to the discovery of gravity.
Fast forward to the 19th century, and we see Thomas Edison working relentlessly to invent the electric bulb. If social media existed back then, someone would have surely posted a meme of him sitting in the dark with a caption: “This guy thinks he can replace candles with some glowing glass! LOL.” But innovation is always met with skepticism. People prefer the comfort of familiarity, even when change would make their lives easier.
The pattern is the same across centuries and cultures: those who challenge the status quo are seen as fools—until they are proven right. But here’s the irony: societies that mock innovators are the same ones that later benefit from their genius. The same Church that silenced Galileo now uses satellites to study the universe. The same skeptics who laughed at Edison’s bulb now live in cities that never sleep. The question is: why do humans instinctively resist change?
The Fear of Change
This resistance to change is particularly strong in cultures where tradition holds a sacred place. Kashmir is one such place. We are a people who take great pride in our customs, and rightly so. Our traditions have given us poetry, craftsmanship, and a deeply rich cultural heritage. But this deep reverence for the past often turns into an unwillingness to embrace the future. In Kashmir, innovation is not always seen as intelligence—it is often seen as rebellion.
Take any aspect of life here. The way we cook, the way we conduct business, the way we think about progress—it’s all rooted in the belief that “this is how things have always been done.” If you tell someone that we could modernize wazwan cooking to make it more efficient, they will gasp in horror: “Wazwan without firewood? Are you crazy?”
Even in small day-to-day matters, change is seen as something to be wary of. Our elders still think online shopping is a scam. Digital payments? “Na, Cash only”. If you try to introduce a new business model or a different way of thinking, you’re instantly labelled as someone who has lost touch with tradition. The fear of trying something different runs so deep that even if an idea has the potential to make life better, we still hesitate.
Which brings us to the most misunderstood Kashmiri of all time—Kaiwal.
The Tragic Case of Kaiwal: A Kashmiri Genius Misjudged.
If history has taught us anything, it’s that the true visionaries are never understood in their time. But while Galileo and Newton had the luxury of being posthumously celebrated, Kaiwal was not so fortunate. He has remained a villain in Kashmiri proverbs, eternally labelled as the epitome of laziness. But let’s step back and look at the situation logically.
Kaiwal’s supposed crime was that when asked to put out an oil lamp, he suggested that the person asking should just close their eyes instead. Now, for centuries, we have been told that this is an example of peak laziness. But is it really?
First, let’s talk about the one giving the order. Why didn’t this person get up and turn off the lamp themselves? If laziness is the issue here, shouldn’t they be equally guilty? Isn’t asking someone else to do something you could do yourself also a sign of laziness?
Second, let’s analyze Kaiwal’s response. What he essentially proposed was a different way of achieving the same result. He wasn’t denying the need for darkness; he was just suggesting an alternative approach. If anything, this is proof of a creative mind at work! He was questioning why things needed to be done a certain way when a simpler, more efficient alternative existed.
The thinker ahead of his time
If we had encouraged minds like Kaiwal instead of ridiculing them, Kashmir might have been a very different place today. Maybe Kaiwal, instead of being a cautionary tale, would have been an inventor. Maybe he would have gone on to create the first light switch. After all, that’s how innovations happen—when someone refuses to do things the way they have always been done and instead asks, “Is there a better way?”
Think about it—if Kaiwal had been born in the modern world, he wouldn’t be insulted; he would be heading a startup, giving TED Talks on “Minimal Effort, Maximum Results,” and advising CEOs on how to achieve efficiency. His philosophy of solving problems without unnecessary exertion is, ironically, what Silicon Valley is built upon. Today, people worship Steve Jobs for simplifying technology and Elon Musk for dreaming up self-driving cars so we don’t have to drive anymore. Yet, poor Kaiwal, who applied the same logic centuries ago, is still the butt of Kashmiri jokes. Where is the justice?
In many ways, Kaiwal’s thinking is exactly what the modern world rewards today. The biggest businesses in the world—Amazon, Tesla, Google—are all built on the idea of “Is there an easier way to do this?” If you look at the most successful entrepreneurs, they are not the ones who work the hardest in a traditional sense; they are the ones who find ways to work smarter.
Imagine if today’s Kashmiris embraced this mindset. Instead of mocking those who question tradition, what if we encouraged them? Instead of dismissing new ideas, what if we gave them a chance?
Learning from Kaiwal instead of mocking him
Kashmir needs to move past the culture of blindly following the past. Traditions should be preserved, yes, but not at the cost of progress. Every great society balances respect for heritage with openness to change. We need to create a culture where questioning old ways is not seen as disrespect but as a path to improvement.
What if we started using Kaiwal’s name differently? Instead of calling someone a Kaiwal as an insult, what if we used it to describe someone who finds a more efficient way to do things? What if “You are such a Kaiwal!” meant “You are a genius at simplifying things!”?
The world is changing fast. Those who innovate will move ahead, and those who resist change will be left behind. We need to decide whether we want to remain stuck in the past or whether we want to reclaim Kaiwal’s legacy and embrace a future where thinking differently is not punished but celebrated.
So the next time someone tells you the story of Kaiwal, remind them: he wasn’t lazy. He was just ahead of his time. And maybe, just maybe, we should start catching up.
