As I meander through the labyrinthine lanes of memory, I find myself ensconced in the sepia-tinted world of my childhood at Kralyar, Rainawari, Srinagar – home.The venerable hills of Hari Parbat, sentinel of Srinagar’s spiritual heritage, beckon me to revisit the halcyon days of yore. Our quotidian ritual, a symphony of devotion, would commence in the crepuscular hours, as we embarked upon a peregrination to the revered site.
Our journey was a vibrant tapestry of diverse faiths, woven together by a rosary of Temples, Shrines, and Gurdwaras. The Kalwal Mohalla, Pujj (Butcher’s) Mohalla, and Malkha (Burial ground) stood as sentinels of a bygone era, witnessing our procession through the ages.
As we walked, the archway within the Fort’s walls whispered secrets of the past, leading us to the Makhdoom Sahib Shrine, dedicated to the revered Sufi saint, Hamza Makhdoom. Our odyssey continued, a veritable pilgrimage to…Ganesh Mandir; Kaali Mandir, nestled above the ancient Satrashi tree; Chakrishwar, the abode of Sharika Devi, dedicated to Goddess Sharika, the presiding deity of Srinagar, also known as Jagadamba Sharika Bhagwati; Saraswati Consecration; Ramkoul Mandir, built by Pandit Ram Koul, a money lender;Laxmi Consecration; Pokhribal Temple, adjacent to the Central Jail and Lunatic Asylum, where I would accompany my uncle, Pt. Prasad Joo, a renowned Bhajan(Leela)singer, for all-night Bhajans every Saturday.
Hanuman Mandir; Kaathi Darwaza, a historic gate at the entrance of the Hari Parbat Fort and Gurdwara Sahib. Our journey would culminate back home, via Pujj and Kalwal Mohalla, a testament to the syncretic fabric of our land.
What is remarkable is that despite the darkness of the night, children, girls, and ladies adorned with gold ornaments, alongside young and old (either in groups or individuals) would take this route daily through habitants of the other community without any mugging, incidents of eve-teasing, or mishaps. This was a testament to the extraordinary atmosphere of respect and harmony among diverse communities. The trust and safety were palpable, allowing devotees to focus on their spiritual journey without fear. Each edifice, a paean to the divine, stood as a beacon of harmony, a testament to the conviviality of our forebears.
Alas, those days of innocence have yielded to the vicissitudes of time. The trust, the safety and the sense of unity, all seem like a distant mirage. Whither have we wandered, that we have lost the way? The leaders of our polity, our faith, and our civic society, must share the blame for this declension. Yet, even amidst the ruins, hope flickers, a candle in the wind. For as the great Persian poet from Shiraz, Iran, Shaikh Saadi so sagely observed, ‘Mee Guzarad’- this too shall pass.
I passionately believe that we shall rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes of despair.
I only hope, I’m not proven wrong!!!
By: Dr. Raj Kachru, Ex-Assistant Director General (Process Engg.& ARIS), ICAR, New Delhi, Former Member (AGM,ICAR)
