Where did the winter blanket go?
As I woke up this morning and looked outside my window, a chilling, uncanny scene unfurled before my eyes. A landscape known for its awe-inspiring beauty lay bare.
For the first time in my living memory, the landscape of Kashmir lacked its crowning glory, its angelic, whitewashed cover of snow. An unspoken heartache transcends words...It breaks my heart! An erstwhile vow resounds in my mind, ‘I won’t purchase a new Tilla Pheran till it snows.
’With an innate grace and fragility, a Tilla Pheran is an insignia of our Kashmiri tradition. Like a piece of our collective identity and the whispering echoes of our past, this exquisite ensemble merges beautifully with the season’s first snow.
As the age-old proverb says, ‘Kashmir is the Paradise on Earth,’ I concur every bit of it. Growing up amidst the snow-capped mountains, tranquil valleys, the resonant rivers, and vivid flora and fauna, I found my paradise.
The lure of my ancestral house in Srinagar with its intrinsic warmth and memories seems all too cold this winter without the promise of snowfall. The cherished ritual of welcoming winter, of buying a new Tilla Pheran, seems less heartening, less significant. Thus, I have resolved not to purchase a new Tilla pheran this year until it snows.
A Tilla pheran to me is not just a piece of clothing. It is a manifestation of the intimate connection between the changing seasons and our Kashmiri ethos.
It’s a memoir, each year preserved in the closet of time, chronicling my growth from a chirpy kid making snow angels to an old soul witnessing the melting snow and change.
The charm of snow cannot be captured just in romanticised poetries and art. Its practical significance is substantial, contributing directly to our agrarian economy and regulating the region’s climate and water resources. Its dearth could echo not only in our saffron fields but also in the numerous horticulture farms and hydroelectric power stations.
For centuries, our winters have been as distinct as our vibrant spring and mellow autumn. However, climate change seems to be mercilessly breaching the very essence of our weather cycle. From consistent weather aberrations, increased glacial melting to our very evident absent snowfall this year, we are getting a clear sign that global warming is affecting our blessed valley more drastically than we thought.
Climate change is a global concern, but the repercussions will always be regional, local, and deeply personal. My refusal to purchase a new Tilla Pheran might appear symbolic, but it resonates with the poignant, uncomfortable truth we must all face – our individual and collective responsibility towards the Earth.
Kashmir’s allure is rooted deeply in its splendid seasons, in its dew-dipped spring mornings, vibrant autumn evenings, the carefree summer sun, and certainly its inviting snow-laden winter landscapes. For this natural orchestra to continue weaving its magic, each one of us has a role to play. Be it adhering to sustainable practices, planting more trees, or advocating stronger environmental policies; our every small step can make a difference.
To witness a shikhara cutting through a serene, ice-covered Dal Lake, or to watch kids making a cheerful snowman in the Nishat Bagh again, let’s join hands and resolve to protect our beautiful valley. My Tilla Pheran hangs as a reminder of the grave need to address the altering climatic pattern before our traditions, our ways of life are distorted beyond repair. To put it aptly, if there’s no snow in paradise, then the paradise needs saving.
Certain tourists and natives as well demonstrate a glaring lack of sensitivity towards maintaining the environmental sanctity of our homeland. Discarded litter, endless noise pollution, and disregard for our culture form an undesirable triad leading to a perceptible dip in Kashmir’s ecological and cultural wellness. The delicate balance between modernity and preservation of cultural heritage and nature stands compromised.
At the crux of all this, I must urge that Kashmir’s essence lies within the very core of our customs - from a Kangri that bestows us with warmth in frigid temperatures to a radiant Tilla Pheran that pays homage to our distinct culture, everything intricately sewn into the stunning canvas of snow. As inhabitants of this divine place, we must restore our valley’s essence.
As for my own pledge, I wish to wrap myself in a brand-new Tilla Pheran soon, its shimmer complemented by the tranquil whiteness of the fresh snowfall, just as it has been for centuries. I dream, hope and wish to experience Kashmir as I have always known, a breathtaking spectacle bathed in pure snow, reflecting our rich and timeless cultural ethos.
Together, let’s begin to conserve and restore the beautiful canvas of our land. A Tilla Pheran, snowfall, a lit Kangri – and a paradise regained. This is the Kashmir I yearn for. And I believe you do too.
Mahoor Haya Shah, writer from Srinagar
