Monday, March 21, 2022
Why I left India despite being a Nationalist
I have a lot many times been asked that if I was a nationalist, why did I have to leave India to settle in a foreign country? In fact, many a times my love and passion for India has been questioned and undermined.
Being a Kashmiri Hindu, I cannot ever the forget what we had to go through decades back when we had to leave our home in Kashmir. We had a wrong notion that the rest of Indian Hindus are and will be with us if ever something bad happens to us, but we were proven wrong by the majority Hindu population of India.
The media distorted our forced migration. Nobody ever cared about the Kashmiri Hindus killed by Islamist forces in the vale. Our temples and religious places were desecrated. There were a lot of abductions, rapes and conversions of our women folk. Even some brazen daylight killings of prominent Kashmiri Hindus. I personally narrowly escaped death and I have no idea why this guy who showed me his AK-47 did not kill me. My only fault, I was talking about alcohol content in one of our pharmaceutical products while traveling in a bus wherein this terrorist was also traveling and listening to our conversation.
Kashmiris were never poor, be it a Hindu or a Muslim. Everybody had enough to eat and a roof over their head. Hindus of Kashmir were relatively well off with 100% literacy rate. There were a lot who were dependent on their land and orchards for their livelihood. Yet some others were traders and businessmen, though most were in government or private service. With the situation changed on ground and there was nobody to look up to, we had no other option then to leave the valley. I have personally witnessed the plight of the people who one day had everything and then the next day found themselves on the roads and footpaths of Jammu with their meagre belongings and young children by their side. Lot many others perished due to the harsh temperatures, snake bites and mental illnesses. The pain is immense and can only be imagined if you have not gone through it.
I have questioned myself many a times, would it have been okay for us to play in with those elements of Kashmir who were demanding “Azadi” from India? Join them claiming “Azadi” from India. That way, we would not lose our homes, our land, be displaced and most importantly, not lose our culture. At least we would have been spared from the illusion that we were safe and respected outside Kashmir as Hindus in Hindu-majority India. I am sure many of Kashmiri Hindus would have taken that course had the Kashmiri Muslims not terrorised us in the name of religion and had they not persecuted us for religious reasons. Needless to say that instead of helping us selflessly, the people outside Kashmir took full advantage of our situation. Many cowsheds were converted overnight into living quarters and rented out for good money. Our people were exploited in all ways you can imagine. We were not given our due share of respect that we deserved in our own country.
My illusion was broken. There was nobody for us in rest of India. Nobody to wipe our tears. Nobody to listen to our stories, nobody to empathise with us and nobody to help us rehabilitate. So, for me, it was “If not Kashmir, then not India”. I started looking up for an opportunity and worked towards it. When the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it up with both of my hands. I have no regrets leaving India but given a chance/choice, would like to go back to my roots in Kashmir.
Notwithstanding the above story, I will always have respect and love my country of birth. Jai Hind.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
A HOME AWAY FROM HOME
A HOME AWAY FROM HOME
Most immigrants coming to Canada try to settle either in Greater Toronto Area (GTA) of Ontario province, or in and around Vancouver, the province of British Columbia. I am no exception and landed in GTA. We have most of our community members (out of the 263 families listed in our KOAC directory) settled in GTA. The first thing I looked for as a new immigrant was any community member and/or any community platform. I was fortunate to find our community like a big extended family ready to help a new immigrant like me at every step of settlement.
I remember a couple of decades back when we were forced out of valley, the rest of India seemed to be an alien place for me. After coming out of Kashmir, I felt as if I was thrown into an abyss of large churning and grinding machine of time where I would get tossed by the huge waves of periodic cultural, climatic and linguistic shocks. Well, definitely the climate, the language, the food, culture etc. were big shocks and put me at odds end in places were I was forced to live my life as a nomad. Although Himachal gave me some solace climatically (I call that place my second home), but it still cannot be anywhere near to Maij Kasheer.
Looking for what we had lost, we tried to put our little community together in Mandi, HP, where we had about 30 KP families living in and around this small town. Late Shri A. K. Dhar and Pandit Romesh Dullo were the pivotal points for the community here. I remember the days when we used to celebrate festivals like Zanga threy and Jesth Ashthami with fervour and get pandit ji for havan and the wazza for cooking of prashad from Jammu. The women folk would clean vegetables, peel potatoes for crispy fries and in the evening we would all sing hymns like “maij sharikay kar daya”; the whole scene would be like a large family getting together for something big. The life was drifting on as we were starting to absorb the pain and trauma from the exodus from valley. The serenity of blue snow-clad mountains, the pine trees dancing to the tune of alpine breeze and the bells from temples were like a balm on our wounds and the life was not as bad, although nowhere to where it was when we were in Kashmir; that was undoubtedly one of the best periods of my life.
The biggest shock for me was my transfer from Himachal to Delhi. I could not see anything in common between Kashmir or even for that matter Himachal and Delhi. The mad rush of people, the harsh summers and devilishly bitter cold winters, a materialistic machine-like life; well all these hallmarks of metro were starting to shrink in as a harsh reality for me and my family. Somehow, I was a misfit and this I suppose was never a place for a person like me to be in. I would dream of Mughal Gardens – Nishat, Shalimar and Parimahal; the green pastures of Gulmarg and Phalgam; mighty and shady chinars at Tullamulla; the crystal clear, cold and refreshing water of Ferozpur stream and most importantly my walnut tree which has grown with me and that small “vaar” in my ancestral village. For me the mantra was “if not Kashmir, then not India”.
I started looking for some other place away from the hustling crowd that would be somewhat akin to Kashmir and finally zeroed in on Canada. So my eyes started dreaming of the freshness of daffodils and tulips, mighty chinar trees, blue fresh water lakes, “shisherganth” and white Christmas. I was not proved wrong this time. Most importantly, the well-knit community of about 263 KP families in Canada made me feel quite at home.
Well they say there is no place on earth like home and truly there is no place on earth like Kashmir. There is no comparison between Canada and Kashmir, but still sometimes I feel quite at home here and in dreams often I think and feel as if I am still in Kashmir. The winter here is harsher than it is in Kashmir, but the sight of that white blanket covering every inch is refreshing to eyes as it reminds me of those days when I used to play hide-and-seek at a playground near my home when I was a kid. While doing this write up, I can see through my window the snow flakes coming dancing down on ground.
For those long chilly winter nights when you are sleeping under a blanket and a thick quilt, you don’t feel like coming out of bed in the morning, especially when you come to know that it is snowing outside; that is when sometimes in my subconscious mind I think I am still sleeping in my bedroom in Srinagar. The similarities are in fact many. The spring declares that the most difficult part of year is gone and brings us joy. You can still feel that nippy fragrant air of spring which of course we used to call “poshi teer” in Kashmir; it reminds me of my days in the valley. Come summer, it looks all the Canadians have been released from prison. The well-manicured lush green parks with mighty maple trees are definitely something that reminds me of Kashmir. Everybody is seen busy either having barbeque parties on weekends or going out for a picnic on the lake shores. Canada has extremely large number of freshwater lakes. Although we do not have shikars or houseboats in big lakes here, but if we do miss Dal Lake, we go to Lake Ontario and have some good time there.
The fall is especially a sight and you can see a riot of colors. The maple trees, which are similar to Chinars of Kashmir start changing their color. You can see all shades of green, yellow and red around, which is quite fascinating. This of course reminds me of polo ground where we used I used to see almost the same scene in my younger days.
I did not disappoint my mother last time she was here. She could still indulge in some Kashmiri delicacies like “bum choonth” the quince apple, good quality nadroo, munja, hak, “alucha chutney” sour cherry chutney, chestnuts and many other heavenly and taste-tingling foods of Kashmir.
To add it all, although I am trying to convince myself to call this place a home, but there is still that “something” which is missing here and for which I do not have any definition or any words. That “something” might have to do with the ground where our ancestors were laid to rest, that apple orchard the trees of which were once touched by my grandfather, who planted them or something else. That halo or emptiness will always be there, even though we are at a home away from home.
Most immigrants coming to Canada try to settle either in Greater Toronto Area (GTA) of Ontario province, or in and around Vancouver, the province of British Columbia. I am no exception and landed in GTA. We have most of our community members (out of the 263 families listed in our KOAC directory) settled in GTA. The first thing I looked for as a new immigrant was any community member and/or any community platform. I was fortunate to find our community like a big extended family ready to help a new immigrant like me at every step of settlement.
I remember a couple of decades back when we were forced out of valley, the rest of India seemed to be an alien place for me. After coming out of Kashmir, I felt as if I was thrown into an abyss of large churning and grinding machine of time where I would get tossed by the huge waves of periodic cultural, climatic and linguistic shocks. Well, definitely the climate, the language, the food, culture etc. were big shocks and put me at odds end in places were I was forced to live my life as a nomad. Although Himachal gave me some solace climatically (I call that place my second home), but it still cannot be anywhere near to Maij Kasheer.
Looking for what we had lost, we tried to put our little community together in Mandi, HP, where we had about 30 KP families living in and around this small town. Late Shri A. K. Dhar and Pandit Romesh Dullo were the pivotal points for the community here. I remember the days when we used to celebrate festivals like Zanga threy and Jesth Ashthami with fervour and get pandit ji for havan and the wazza for cooking of prashad from Jammu. The women folk would clean vegetables, peel potatoes for crispy fries and in the evening we would all sing hymns like “maij sharikay kar daya”; the whole scene would be like a large family getting together for something big. The life was drifting on as we were starting to absorb the pain and trauma from the exodus from valley. The serenity of blue snow-clad mountains, the pine trees dancing to the tune of alpine breeze and the bells from temples were like a balm on our wounds and the life was not as bad, although nowhere to where it was when we were in Kashmir; that was undoubtedly one of the best periods of my life.
The biggest shock for me was my transfer from Himachal to Delhi. I could not see anything in common between Kashmir or even for that matter Himachal and Delhi. The mad rush of people, the harsh summers and devilishly bitter cold winters, a materialistic machine-like life; well all these hallmarks of metro were starting to shrink in as a harsh reality for me and my family. Somehow, I was a misfit and this I suppose was never a place for a person like me to be in. I would dream of Mughal Gardens – Nishat, Shalimar and Parimahal; the green pastures of Gulmarg and Phalgam; mighty and shady chinars at Tullamulla; the crystal clear, cold and refreshing water of Ferozpur stream and most importantly my walnut tree which has grown with me and that small “vaar” in my ancestral village. For me the mantra was “if not Kashmir, then not India”.
I started looking for some other place away from the hustling crowd that would be somewhat akin to Kashmir and finally zeroed in on Canada. So my eyes started dreaming of the freshness of daffodils and tulips, mighty chinar trees, blue fresh water lakes, “shisherganth” and white Christmas. I was not proved wrong this time. Most importantly, the well-knit community of about 263 KP families in Canada made me feel quite at home.
Well they say there is no place on earth like home and truly there is no place on earth like Kashmir. There is no comparison between Canada and Kashmir, but still sometimes I feel quite at home here and in dreams often I think and feel as if I am still in Kashmir. The winter here is harsher than it is in Kashmir, but the sight of that white blanket covering every inch is refreshing to eyes as it reminds me of those days when I used to play hide-and-seek at a playground near my home when I was a kid. While doing this write up, I can see through my window the snow flakes coming dancing down on ground.
For those long chilly winter nights when you are sleeping under a blanket and a thick quilt, you don’t feel like coming out of bed in the morning, especially when you come to know that it is snowing outside; that is when sometimes in my subconscious mind I think I am still sleeping in my bedroom in Srinagar. The similarities are in fact many. The spring declares that the most difficult part of year is gone and brings us joy. You can still feel that nippy fragrant air of spring which of course we used to call “poshi teer” in Kashmir; it reminds me of my days in the valley. Come summer, it looks all the Canadians have been released from prison. The well-manicured lush green parks with mighty maple trees are definitely something that reminds me of Kashmir. Everybody is seen busy either having barbeque parties on weekends or going out for a picnic on the lake shores. Canada has extremely large number of freshwater lakes. Although we do not have shikars or houseboats in big lakes here, but if we do miss Dal Lake, we go to Lake Ontario and have some good time there.
The fall is especially a sight and you can see a riot of colors. The maple trees, which are similar to Chinars of Kashmir start changing their color. You can see all shades of green, yellow and red around, which is quite fascinating. This of course reminds me of polo ground where we used I used to see almost the same scene in my younger days.
I did not disappoint my mother last time she was here. She could still indulge in some Kashmiri delicacies like “bum choonth” the quince apple, good quality nadroo, munja, hak, “alucha chutney” sour cherry chutney, chestnuts and many other heavenly and taste-tingling foods of Kashmir.
To add it all, although I am trying to convince myself to call this place a home, but there is still that “something” which is missing here and for which I do not have any definition or any words. That “something” might have to do with the ground where our ancestors were laid to rest, that apple orchard the trees of which were once touched by my grandfather, who planted them or something else. That halo or emptiness will always be there, even though we are at a home away from home.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
जिंदिगी का सफ़र
चल पड़े थे ज़िन्दगी के सफ़र पर यूं ही
ना जाने इस सफ़र मैं हम कहाँ बटक गए
एक पल रुक कर सोचना चाहा की जिंदिगी मैं क्या खोया और क्या पाया
पर चाह कर बी कदम रूक ना पाए और कारवां गुज़रता गया
वक्त के दहलीज़ पर अयेने मैं जब देखा
सफ़ेद चादर मे खुद को लिपटता पाया
ना जाने इस सफ़र मैं हम कहाँ बटक गए
एक पल रुक कर सोचना चाहा की जिंदिगी मैं क्या खोया और क्या पाया
पर चाह कर बी कदम रूक ना पाए और कारवां गुज़रता गया
वक्त के दहलीज़ पर अयेने मैं जब देखा
सफ़ेद चादर मे खुद को लिपटता पाया
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
हम हमशा रहेंगे तुम्हारे
तुम लाख बेरुखी से पेश आओ
मेरे दिल को कितना बी तडपाओ
फिर बी यह वादा रहा मेरी जान
तुज पे तब बी रहेगा दिल कुर्बान
लंबी अमावस के बाद एक पूनम की रत आयी थी
तारे टिमटिमा उठे जिंदिगी मे बहार छाई थी
बिखर गए वोह सपने, टूट गए सब तारे
फिर बी वादा रहा मेरी जान
हम हमशा रहेंगे तुम्हारे
मेरे दिल को कितना बी तडपाओ
फिर बी यह वादा रहा मेरी जान
तुज पे तब बी रहेगा दिल कुर्बान
लंबी अमावस के बाद एक पूनम की रत आयी थी
तारे टिमटिमा उठे जिंदिगी मे बहार छाई थी
बिखर गए वोह सपने, टूट गए सब तारे
फिर बी वादा रहा मेरी जान
हम हमशा रहेंगे तुम्हारे
Friday, March 26, 2010
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
मुझे गले से लगा लो ना
जो खवाब देखे वोह बिखर गए
मुझे एक बार फिर जुठ्ला दो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
मेरे दिल की तड़प मिटा दो ना
वोह तुम्हारे सपने, तुह्हरे बातें
कहाँ से लाओं वोह सोगातैं
नींद मैं था मुझे जागो ना
मरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
फिर वाही दिल की तड़प और बेचनी
मेरे दिल को कुछ समजा दो ना
तुम ही इस का इलाज सुजा दो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
अब तो तुम्हें बात करना बी गवारा नहीं
चलो यूं ही सही, मेरा गम अब तुम्हारा नहीं
बस सिरिफ इक बार मुझे गले से लगा लो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
मुझे गले से लगा लो ना
जो खवाब देखे वोह बिखर गए
मुझे एक बार फिर जुठ्ला दो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
मेरे दिल की तड़प मिटा दो ना
वोह तुम्हारे सपने, तुह्हरे बातें
कहाँ से लाओं वोह सोगातैं
नींद मैं था मुझे जागो ना
मरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
फिर वाही दिल की तड़प और बेचनी
मेरे दिल को कुछ समजा दो ना
तुम ही इस का इलाज सुजा दो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
अब तो तुम्हें बात करना बी गवारा नहीं
चलो यूं ही सही, मेरा गम अब तुम्हारा नहीं
बस सिरिफ इक बार मुझे गले से लगा लो ना
मेरे दिल का अनदेरा मिटा दो ना
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Kashmiri skit ammaji Mississauga, March 6th, 2010
http://vimeo.com/10033444
"Ammaji " The Koshur Skit
It was Mahashivratri celebrations 2010 in Toronto and we decided to give a taste of his old love to the KPs in Canada and then he found the skit written by Mrs. N. Ganjoo, USA. Hope you like this.
"Ammaji " The Koshur Skit
It was Mahashivratri celebrations 2010 in Toronto and we decided to give a taste of his old love to the KPs in Canada and then he found the skit written by Mrs. N. Ganjoo, USA. Hope you like this.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
It one day so happened
With grass never so green
water never sparkling clean
World never so majestic
and life so pristine
My world was never the same
up until you came
With "Tuesdays with Morrie" in my lap
I try to take a quick nap
With music so engrossing
and your thoughts so provoking
I have come to a different land
where love is invoking
I love you today and will love you tomorrow
just some words to clear the sorrow
I will be yours until my last breath
as nothing can hold us back now
not even stark, naked, reality of death
Knowing well I set my sails onto abyss of death
but again I promise, I will be with you till my last breath
So on the gates of heaven do we meet
Oh! I am sure those moments will be sweet.
Waiting for you........................Deepak
water never sparkling clean
World never so majestic
and life so pristine
My world was never the same
up until you came
With "Tuesdays with Morrie" in my lap
I try to take a quick nap
With music so engrossing
and your thoughts so provoking
I have come to a different land
where love is invoking
I love you today and will love you tomorrow
just some words to clear the sorrow
I will be yours until my last breath
as nothing can hold us back now
not even stark, naked, reality of death
Knowing well I set my sails onto abyss of death
but again I promise, I will be with you till my last breath
So on the gates of heaven do we meet
Oh! I am sure those moments will be sweet.
Waiting for you........................Deepak
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
First love (Utada Hikaru)
Once in a while, you are in my mind
I think about the days that we have had
and I dream that these would all come back to me
If only you knew every moment in time
nothing goes on in my heart
just like your memories
How I want here to be with you one more
You will always gonna be the one
and you should know
how I wish I could have never let you go
Come into my life again, oh, don’t say no
You will always gonna be the one in my whole life
So true, I believe I can never find somebody like you, my first love
Once in a while you are in my dreams,
I can feel the warmth of your embrace
and I pray that one day it will all come back to me
If only you knew every moment in time
nothing goes on in my heart just like your memories
and how I want here to be with you once more
You will always be inside my heart and you should know
how I wish I could have never let you go
Come into my life again, please don’t say no
Now and forever you are still the one in my heart
So true, I believe I could never find somebody like you, my first love
You will always gonna be the one, and you should know
how I wish I could have never let you go
Come into my life again, oh, don’t say no
You will always gonna be the one
So true, I believe I could never find now and forever
To see this video, please click on the link below
Friday, November 13, 2009
Borrowed but beautiful
Love Me
Love me in the Springtime, when all is green and new,
Love me in the Summer, when the sky is oh so blue,
Love me in the Autumn, when the leaves are turning brown,
Love me in the Winter, when the snow is falling down.
Love me when I'm happy, and even when I'm sad,
Love me when I'm good, or when I'm oh so bad,
Love me when I'm pretty, or if my face is plain,
Love me when I'm feeling good, or when I'm feeling pain.
Love me always darlin', in the rain or shining sun,
Love me always darlin', after all is said and done,
Love me always darlin', until all our life is through,
Love me always darlin', for I'll be lovin' you!
MY WISH
If I could have just one wish,
I would wish to wake up everyday
to the sound of your breath on my neck,
the warmth of your lips on my cheek,
the touch of your fingers on my skin,
and the feel of your heart beating with mine...
Knowing that I could never find that feeling
with anyone other than you.
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