AMPHIBIOUS KASHMIR -II

 

AMPHIBIOUS KASHMIR –II

BY WARVET

 

Riverine life in Kashmir has been dominated historically by the boat people or ‘Hanji’. They were found to be very skillful as far as navigating the river in their boats of all sizes by the European tourists in late 19^th century. The community lived on their barges with family and was notorious for their foul language and unfair practices. The visitors found their lifestyle, particularly noisy quarrels with fellow Hanjis very entertaining. The fights were only verbal with only violence directed to the reputation of female relations and continued for hours till both sides got sore throats and then resumed after a break of few hours or a night. Hanji marriages led to celebrations in flotilla of decorated boats travelling down the river with all gaiety and was a spectacle to behold. During floods, the boatmen were in much demand to rescue people but they were notorious for extorting huge amounts of money from the marooned.

                                              

Post-independence most of the European Houseboats were acquired by Hanjis and the community has been dominating the tourist industry in the Dal lake.

“Mere Dadaji ne Maharaja se 25 kanal pani kharid liya thha. Uss zamane mei unko Rs 8000 mei wo mila ttha” Shaqeel told me over a cup of ‘Kahwa’. We were sitting in the beautiful and intricately carved  verandah of his houseboat ‘Tulip’ facing the Bouleward. It was a pleasant summer evening in Srinagar and I was bewitched by the reflection of Shankaracharya hill dancing in the clear waters. 

He had taken me on a circuitous route to get to the Tulip from the Ghat. We had taken a diversion and went beyond the lake market of eateries, handicrafts, clothes and shawls into Rainawari. The lake had become like a highway with houseboat and later houses on both sides. There was a wooden elevated footpath with many bridges that connected the islands with mainland. A school boy was going home and exchanging pleasantries with an old man. 3 young men were trying their luck angling. A young woman in bright red suit was taking to someone on mobile in a stationary boat of hers. Many provision stores were there to meet needs of lake inhabitants. Small pieces of land were built upon amidst thick green vegetation. Ducklings were playing in the lotus gardens with floating gardens of herbs and vegetables clinging to respective houseboats. We had gone to Char Chinar, the idyllic island garden of Jehangir. Two of the original Chinars had perished with time. The State Horticulture department had transplanted 2 fully grown Chinars which had taken roots thankfully. Shaqeel had shown me ‘Unt Kadal’ the camel back bridge built by Akbar for the troops to rush with speed from the fort across the lake to his abode in the Shalimar Garden in case of an emergency. 

 

I savoured the saffron flavoured kahwa and guessed he was talking of the surface area of the Dal waters his family owned. ‘Tulip’ was their main houseboat having 4 exquisite bedrooms, all panelled in carved walnut wood and decorated with beautiful Firozabad lamps and trademark Kashmiri walnut furniture, embroidered curtains and silk carpets. The bathrooms boasted of high end fitments including bath tubs with running hot water. “All waste water is collected in tanks and taken away to STP by special boats run by the lake authority” Said Shaqeel. “The ACs are basically for the winters. “Thank God that we are charged a flat rate of Rs 5000 per month or it would be impossible to break even”. You know, Sheikh sahib was not in favour of hanjis. He didn’t like houseboats in the Dal. He never supported us. Maybe because we didn’t vote for him. Farooq was better. He supported us. As such he is a happy go lucky man. A man of great taste. Infact, he would have offered a government job to my sister who last year finished her BTech Computer Science. She's the first Hanji girl to achieve that feat! Umar is unlike him”

The rooms are rented for more than Rs 6000 per night so its not that bad! I thought. Anyway, for more than a decade there was no tourism, only terrorism. I remembered how sad these very houseboats looked with peeling away paint and rotten planks, ghostly dark at nights. Many were sold off.

A shikara laden with Punjabi gabrus was making way between houseboats. The guys made typical boisterous noises sprinkled with choice abuses, clicking each other with phones as the boatman paddled them with trademark heart shaped oars.

A CRPF motorboat with policemen bearing AK 47s sped past us with waves hitting the Punjabi tourist’s shikara who shrieked loudly. There was steady traffic of shikaras laden with the tourists sprawled on comfortable sofas. “The business is good this year” observed Shaqeel.

A small no frills boat approached us bearing a solitary old man. Aizaz sahib, father of Shaqeel had arrived “Janab, kaise ho? Sab theek? Ghar mei sab theek hain? Aap akele aye? Madam nahi ayi? He Inquired in typical Kashmiri manner. Kashmiris are very concerned about families. They never fail to inquire about all family whenever they meet and infact even telephone talk begins like that.

“Sab khairiyat hai Aizaz sahib, bas school chal rahe hain isliye …”

As delectable Kashmiri wazawan snacks were brought by the waiter, I brought out my hip flask and poured Glenfiddich for both of us. Aizaz sahib, took a swig and smacked his lips in appreciation. I was surprised when he had unexpectedly joined me in drinking for the first time. He was a veteran tourism professional who was a renowned trekking guide for Europeans in heyday.

‘Real money is in organising treks. 30 years back, I had taken a European group of 6 on a trek from Pahalgam to Naranag. We were charging them 3 lakh Rs for the trip – Food, tentage, ponies, camping – All the works! He said. Can you guess Colonel how much tip they gave me? I must tell you they were mighty happy’!

10,000? I guessed.

“They gave us a tip of Rs 3 Lakh”! Disclosed Aizaz, digging into his ‘Tabak Maz’ the sheep ribs cooked on slow heat. “Those were the golden days. And then the militancy took over”. His eyes looked at some point in distance. “We were ruined. I had to go to Manali to earn my living”!

‘Now I feel everything is back on track’ I opined.

“Just a little more effort by you guys. Army is doing God’s work. Some more effort and it will be over. People have seen the fruits of peace”

“It’s all  matter of money. Money pushed by ISI. By way of drug trafficking and hawala. Cross border trade was another major avenue of raising black money by over and underinvoicing. Its good they stopped the trade. The hardline maulvis, Hurriyat leaders, politicians intelligentsia, journalists – they were all involved. NIA has now fixed all of them. Modiji is a hero. Our politicians are all crooks. Its better under central rule. It should continue like this. Enough of "Politikkus"!

Kashmiris can't prounce half alphabets - as we call them in Hindi. Besides the omnipresent 'Sikkis' one is routinely bolwled over by 'Gentus'. The other day I was flummoxed by 'Wattus App"!!

“How was the terrorism in Dal? The houseboats must be full of terrorists. They must be ideal for hiding” I asked.

“Oh no! You could not be further from truth! Heavens no, Dal never had militants. Firstly, we Hanjis’ being tourism dependent never wanted disturbance. Secondly terrorists, Kashmiris and more so foreigners are afraid of waters as almost none know swimming”!

It was a real revelation for me. I was reminded of the 19^th century great reverend Tyndale Biscoe who worked extensively, educating Kashmiris. He describes how for a riverine people, it was shocking that hardly any Kashmiri knew swimming! Lots of people used to drown in rivers and lakes till the Christian Mission school introduced compulsory swimming classes and tests for the students”.

By this time we were both in that happy state that Glenfiddichh evokes when you are at a good location with good company. I put a piece of juicy Chicken tikka in my mouth and enjoyed burst of Kashmiri spices.

“Aizaz sahib, I am always truly amazed by your secular and patriotic views. I wish all Indians were like that”.

“Colonel sahib, you don’t know. All Kashmiris had Hindu ancestors. We are more attached to our shrines than mosques. Many Hindu shrines are looked after by Muslim caretakers even today and many Ziarats are visited by Hindus but we Hanjis have a special relation with Lord Ram”

I was surprised.

“You see way back in Treta yug, Kashmir had no boat people. When Lord Ram returned from Lanka after being victorious against Ravan, he brought along boat people from that place. We are descendents of same people”.

“Don’t tell me!” I was on the edge of my seat.

“Look at my face. Do I look like Kashmiri to you? I have no Aryan features, even my complexion is dark” Said Aizaz “ Look at the shape of my forehead”

I looked at him as if in a trance, He certainly didn’t look like a typical Kashmiri. I was reminded of Sri Lnakan Army officers who did courses with me and were with me in Sudan with UN. Definitely he looked like them!! What a bloody revelation!

Pakistan after 1948 and 1965 drubbing understood that it was not possible to take Kashmir by war. So they thought of inciting militancy. After 1971 breaking of Pakistan they became desperate to inflict a thousand cuts on India. They devised long drawn plans to destroy the syncretic Kashmiri culture and inject hardline wahabi and Devbandi type of ideology. Petro dollars and Afghan war helped. They injected huge sums of money and killed Kashmiriyat. Besides, political meddling by Delhi didn’t help. It eroded all trust. Otherwise, during the post-independence communal riots. Kashmir with Muslim majority was called beacon of hope by Gandhi ji who wished others learned from us!

It seemed a day so far in past. Sipping my Glenfiddich I could only wish that the present journey of Kashmir on the path of lasting peace and development would continue. For ever. “Insha Allah” as Aizaz sahib would say!

 All photos by author