Kashmiri Quotes

Everyone wants Kashmir but no one wants Kashmiris. Aren't I a miracle? A seed that survived the slaughter & slaughters to come. I think I believe in freedom I just don't know where it is. I think I believe in home, I just don't know where to look.

The chaiwallah brought sabz chai, Kashmiri-style. It was pink and milky, sprinkled with cardamom and brimming with crushed pistachios and almonds. A romantic tea, I always thought.

One Kashmiri morning in the early spring of 1915, my grandfather Aadam Aziz hit his nose against a frost-hardened tussock of earth while attempting to pray. Three drops of blood plopped out of his left nostril, hardened instantly in the brittle air and lay before his eyes on the prayer-mat, transformed into rubies. Lurching back until he knelt with his head once more upright, he found that the tears which had sprung to his eyes had solidified, too; and at that moment, as he brushed diamonds contemptuously from his lashes, he resolved never again to kiss earth for any god or man. This decision, however, made a hole in him, a vacancy in a vital inner chamber, leaving him vulnerable to women and history. Unaware of this at first, despite his recently completed medical training, he stood up, rolled the prayer-mat into a thick cheroot, and holding it under his right arm surveyed the valley through clear, diamond-free eyes.

What doesn’t belong to us, we have no right to call our own. One can’t win anything by force, ever. That is not what we, Kashmiris do. That is not what we, Indians do.

During Aurangzeb’s rule, which lasted for forty-nine years from 1658 onwards, there were many phases during which Pandits were persecuted. One of his fourteen governors, Iftikhar Khan, who ruled for four years from 1671, was particularly brutal towards the community. It was during his rule that a group of Pandits approached the ninth Sikh Guru, Tegh Bahadur, in Punjab and begged him to save their faith. He told them to return to Kashmir and tell the Mughal rulers that if they could convert him (Tegh Bahadur), all Kashmiri Pandits would accept Islam. This later led to the Guru’s martyrdom, but the Pandits were saved.

From the comfort of distance, [Non resident Indians and Kashmiris] financially and emotionally support ideologies whose consequence they don’t have to face. They are not just a nuisance. As a collective they are dangerous. When men capable of murder receive the affection of engineers and MBAs, it makes them potentially far more lethal.

ascetics who would live in a remote Kashmiri valley. Maybe

Indians who valorize their own struggle for independence from British rule and virtually worship those who led it are for the most part strangely opaque to Kashmiris who are fighting for the same thing.

And it is true you write in Urdu, Kashmiri, and English?” “My daughter talks too much,” he said, evidently pleased. “But she is correct. I find that different languages are useful for different things. For instance, it is best to write poetry in Urdu. Urdu words are made for poetry and songs. For stories, Kashmiri is the best.” “And English?” “English?” He smiled. “English is excellent for signboards and maps.

Srinagar hunches like a wild cat: lonely sentries, wretched in bunkers at the city’s bridges, far from their homes in the plains, licensed to kill . . . while the Jhelum flows under them, sometimes with a dismembered body. On Zero Bridge the jeeps rush by. The candles go out as travelers, unable to light up the velvet Void. What is the blesséd word? Mandelstam gives no clue. One day the Kashmiris will pronounce that word truly for the first time.

And so the 5 months of hyper nationalism bites the chilly winter frost! The 5 point plan got so shady that even the murkiest water of dal couldn't wash the blot on our conscience, proving yet again the resilience of a common Kashmiri to withstand economic doom and social ambiguity from past 140 days and still have Herculean courage to start all over . .... from the grounds up !

The medieval mind, which saw only continuity, seemed so unassailable. It existed in a world which, with all its ups and downs, remained harmoniously ordered and could be taken for granted. It had not developed a sense of history, which is a sense of loss; it had developed no true sense of beauty, which is a gift of assessment. While it was enclosed, this made it secure. Exposed, its world became a fairyland, exceedingly fragile. It was one step from the Kashmiri devotional songs to the commercial jingles of Radio Ceylon; it was one step from the roses of Kashmir to a potful of plasticdaisies.

In history there are no permanent Heroes. Roles keep reversing with time.

The focus should be on Indian atrocities in Kashmir, not on our support for the Kashmiri resistance.

The Kashmiri has a huge problem,’ Hashim said. ‘He doesn’t want to speak the truth, he doesn’t want to hear the truth.

One of his fourteen governors, Iftikhar Khan, who ruled for four years from 1671, was particularly brutal towards the community. It was during his rule that a group of Pandits approached the ninth Sikh Guru, Tegh Bahadur, in Punjab and begged him to save their faith. He told them to return to Kashmir and tell the Mughal rulers that if they could convert him (Tegh Bahadur), all Kashmiri Pandits would accept Islam. This later led to the Guru’s martyrdom, but the Pandits were saved.

People still were emotionally connected to the vale by seeing a value in their local cultural life. They were still seriously political and tried to find their identity by inheriting memories from the experiences of each other. For Kashmiris, the struggle to remember never ended.

Dinner was the main meal of the day. Sahib had good taste and appetite and a weakness for Kashmiri dishes. Mughlai mutton with turnips, rogan josh, kebab nargisi, lotus roots-n-rhizomes, gongloo, karam saag, the infinitely slow-cooked nahari, and the curd-flavored meatballs of gushtaba.

Dr Ambedkar said, “Mr Abdullah, you want India should defend Kashmir, India should develop Kashmir and Kashmiris should have equal rights as citizens of India, but you don’t want India and any citizen of India to have any rights in Kashmir. I am the Law Minister of India. I cannot betray the interest of my country.

But most unsettling is how this time I notice my own fairness. I notice that while I might be a person of colour among the diaspora back home, or in any white-majority country, here I am the white person. Kashmiris are notable because there are so few of us left, and because we've taken up a privileged space in India. In Toronto, some Indian cab drivers will ask me where my family is from, and when I tell them, they think they're bonding with me when they talk about how much they hate Muslims. Or, in the case that the driver is Muslim, he'll try to bond with me over the trouble with 'the blacks.' All of us struggle towards whiteness.

What should girls read?” Caroline asked, as Anna entered the library. “Everything,” Anna replied. A

How can you say that?' he barked. 'It is they who have forced you out of your homes, turning you into refugees.' I looked him in the eye and said: 'General, I've lost my home, not my humanity.

Most of what we got was crockery: from exotic crystal bowls to ceramic anomalies. Then, a cross-section of rugs- from a beautiful Kashmiri original to a memorable one with printed dragons and utterly incomprehensible hieroglyphics. Dibyendu (typically) gave us a scrabble set and Runai Maashi: that rocking chair. Yuppie work friends, trying to be unique and aesthetically offbeat, went for wind-chimes but there were really far too many of them by the end. We also got a fantastic number of white and off-white kurtas, jamdani sarees with complementary blouses, no less than nine suitcases, suit pieces, imported condoms, bed-sheets, bed-covers, coffee makers, coffee tables, coffee-table books, poetry books, used gifts (paintings of sunsets and other disasters), three nights and four days in Darjeeling, along with several variations of Durga, Ganesh and all the usual suspects in ivory, china, terracotta, papier-mâché, and what have you. Someone gave us a calendar that looking back, I think, was laudably sardonic. Others gave us money, in various denominations: from eleven to five hundred and one. And in one envelope, came a letter for her that she read in tears in the bathroom.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari')

The Kashmiri militants who died fighting the Indian troops were carried like heroes in funeral processions and their comrades-in-arms saluted them with guns. Some of them even became mythical figures. But they were dead. And so were the men they had killed. And that was the only absolute truth. People went home after the funerals and the slogans and continued their lives till the next funeral and the next round of slogans.

But you have no understanding of the depths of Kashmiri duplicity, Musa thought but did not say. You have no idea how a people like us, who have survived a history and a geography such as ours, have learned to drive our pride underground. Duplicity is the only weapon we have. You don’t know how radiantly we smile when our hearts are broken. How ferociously we can turn on those we love while we graciously embrace those whom we despise. You have no idea how warmly we can welcome you when all we really want is for you to go away. Your thermometer is quite useless here.

I'm a Kashmiri , I live in a rogue place. I'm surrounded by conformist , boot licking , people pleasing "herd"! People Safely cocooned in their stereotypical conformist lives, maintaining status quo , they make generic responses  expecting generic answers! 
For someone with an alien mentality like 'mine' , I am an out cast !  But it's 'them' who are the eerie one , like the deadly malignant tumour feeding on its own people ,  A parasite, growing inside the  system! Superficial faces , powdered with lies and deceit ;  people , like controlled robots, In love with their own ignorance !!

Despite their insecurity and despair in an India witnessing the rise of Hindu nationalism, most of my Indian Muslim friends were Indian nationalists. They disagreed with me and other Kashmiri students about our ideas of an independent Kashmir. They were afraid that the secession of a Muslim-majority Kashmir from India would make log worse for India's Muslims. Whenever a cricket match was screened on the television room of our hostel, my Indian Muslim friends cheered, sang and rooted for the Indian Fri let team. Kashmiris cheered for Sri Lanka or Pakistan, or whichever team played against India.

Qatar & The West (The Sonnet) All of a sudden the entire west is peeved at Qatar, Because only the west has exclusive rights to exposure. All of a sudden we care about the migrant workers, The Afghans, Palestinians and Kashmiris no longer matter. Human rights issue here is, we don't care about human rights, We only care about filling the air with hypocrisy and mania. Our poster boy just dumped half his new workforce as garbage, We buy Oscar, ditch Batgirl, and we diss Qatar for buying FIFA! We are just peeved that the Arabs are showing off for a change, Sure it's unacceptable, since showing off is a western tradition. Yes, it's true that the Middle East reeks with human rights issues, But it is also teeming with passion beyond western comprehension. If you really care about human rights stick to a cause for more than a fortnight. Otherwise keep your trap shut, lest you open and be proved a privileged white.

Chef Kishen dazzled the table. I, on the other hand, transport people to dazzling places. But I have never been able to cook like him. His touch was precise. As if music. He appraised fruits, vegetables, meats, with astonishment, and grasped them with humility, with reverence, very carefully as if they were the most fragile objects in the world. Before cooking he would ask: Fish, what would you like to become? Basil, where did you lose your heart? Lemon: It is not who you touch, but how you touch. Learn from big elaichi. There, there. Karayla, meri jaan, why are you so prudish? ... Cinnamon was 'hot', cumin 'cold', nutmeg caused good erections. Exactly: 32 kinds of tarkas. 'Garlic is a woman, Kip. Avocado, a man. Coconut, a hijra... Chilies are South American. Coffee, Arabian. "Curry powder" is a British invention. There is no such thing as Indian food, Kip. But there are Indian methods (Punjabi-Kashmiri-Tamil-Goan-Bengali-Hyderabadi). Allow a dialogue between our methods and the ingredients from the rest of the world. Japan, Italy, Afghanistan. Make something new. Channa goes well with artichokes. Rajmah with brie and parsley. Don't get stuck inside nationalities.

Navin Sapru’s friend, the poet and writer Maharaj Krishan Santoshi, wrote a poem on his death. In ‘Naveen my friend’, Santoshi writes: Naveen was my friend Killed he was, in Habba Kadal while on the tailor’s hanger remained hung his warm coat. Passing as it did through scissors and thread–needle in the tailor’s hand, till the previous day it was merely a person’s coat that suddenly was turned into a Hindu’s coat In the last stanza the poet writes: I used to ask him every time why doesn’t he possess the cunningness of Srinagar I still await his response My friend! Yes, I changed my address since after your murder it ceased to exist the bridge of friendship, this Habba Kadal

I had become something of a bird man – a passion that has remained with me – and could tell a Himalayan griffon from a bearded vulture and could identify the streaked laughing thrush, the orange bullfinch, Tytler’s leaf warbler and the Kashmir flycatcher, which was threatened then, and must surely by now be extinct. The trouble with being in Dachigam was that it had the effect of unsettling one’s resolve. It underlined the futility of it all. It made one feel that Kashmir really belonged to those creatures. That none of us who were fighting over it – Kashmiris, Indians, Pakistanis, Chinese (they have a piece of it too – Aksai Chin, which used to be part of the old Kingdom of Jammu and Kashmir), or for that matter Pahadis, Gujjars, Dogras, Pashtuns, Shins, Ladakhis, Baltis, Gilgitis, Purikis, Wakhis, Yashkuns, Tibetans, Mongols, Tatars, Mon, Khowars – none of us, neither saint nor soldier, had the right to claim the truly heavenly beauty of that place for ourselves. I was once moved to say so, quite casually, to Imran, a young Kashmiri police officer who had done some exemplary undercover work for us. His response was, ‘It’s a very great thought, Sir. I have the same love for animals as yourself. Even in my travels in India I feel the exact same feeling – that India belongs not to Punjabis, Biharis, Gujaratis, Madrasis, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, Christians, but to those beautiful creatures – peacocks, elephants, tigers, bears . . .’ He was polite to the point of being obsequious, but I knew what he was getting at. It was extraordinary; you couldn’t – and still cannot – trust even the ones you assumed were on your side. Not even the damn police.

The diversity of India is tremendous; it is obvious: it lies on the surface and anybody can see it. It concerns itself with physical appearances as well as with certain mental habits and traits. There is little in common, to outward seeming, between the Pathan of the Northwest and the Tamil in the far South. Their racial stocks are not the same, though there may be common strands running through them; they differ in face and figure, food and clothing, and, of course, language … The Pathan and Tamil are two extreme examples; the others lie somewhere in between. All of them have still more the distinguishing mark of India. It is fascinating to find how the Bengalis, the Marathas, the Gujaratis, the Tamils, the Andhras, the Oriyas, the Assamese, the Canarese, the Malayalis, the Sindhis, the Punjabis, the Pathans, the Kashmiris, the Rajputs, and the great central block comprising the Hindustani-speaking people, have retained their peculiar characteristics for hundreds of years, have still more or less the same virtues and failings of which old tradition or record tells us, and yet have been throughout these ages distinctively Indian, with the same national heritage and the same set of moral and mental qualities.    There was something living and dynamic about this heritage, which showed itself in ways of living and a philosophical attitude to life and its problems. Ancient India, like ancient China, was a world in itself, a culture and a civilization which gave shape to all things. Foreign influences poured in and often influenced that culture and were absorbed. Disruptive tendencies gave rise immediately to an attempt to find a synthesis. Some kind of a dream of unity has occupied the mind of India since the dawn of civilization. That unity was not conceived as something imposed from outside, a standardization of externals or even of beliefs. It was something deeper and, within its fold, the widest tolerance of beliefs and customs was practiced and every variety acknowledged and even encouraged.    In ancient and medieval times, the idea of the modern nation was non-existent, and feudal, religious, racial, and cultural bonds had more importance. Yet I think that at almost any time in recorded history an Indian would have felt more or less at home in any part of India, and would have felt as a stranger and alien in any other country. He would certainly have felt less of a stranger in countries which had partly adopted his culture or religion. Those, such as Christians, Jews, Parsees, or Moslems, who professed a religion of non-Indian origin or, coming to India, settled down there, became distinctively Indian in the course of a few generations. Indian converts to some of these religions never ceased to be Indians on account of a change of their faith. They were looked upon in other countries as Indians and foreigners, even though there might have been a community of faith between them.6

At our own wedding, Stephen was sponsored by Kevin’s kebab van and the Kashmiri Palace – and our honeymoon was paid for by a company called Candid Camera Midnight Movies Ltd, although I’ve still no idea what they got out of it.

In February 2002 three Kashmiri militants, under arrest in Delhi, confessed that they had been hatching a plan to kidnap Tendulkar and India’s then-captain, Sourav Ganguly.

Persons with Disability (PWD), Ex-Serviceman (XSM), Kashmiri Migrant (KM). Please refer to the Norms for the same. There are 394 vacancies for the above position (200 Electronics, 120 Mechanical, 57 Computer Science,

It was eventually remembered by Kashmiris as the moment when various militant factions came together against the state – unity of an unintended kind.

The oldest among Kashmiris often claim that their is nothing new about their condition, that they they have been slaves of foreign rulers since the sixteenth century, when the Moghul emperor Akbar annexed Kashmir and appointed a local governer to rule the state. In the chaos of post-Moghul India, the old empire rapidly disintegrating, Afghani and Sikh invaders plundered Kashmir at will. The peasantry was taxed and taxed into utter wretchedness; the cultural and intellectual life, which under indigenous rulers had produced some of the greatest poetry, music, and philosophy in the subcontinent, dried up. Barbaric rules were imposed in the early nineteenth century, a Sikh who killed a native of Kashmir was fined nothing more than two rupees. Victor Jacquemont, a botanist and friend of Stendahl's who came to the valley in 1831, thought that "nowhere else in India were the masses as poor and denuded as they were in Kashmir.

I hadn't then really noticed the Kashmiris. They did appear very different with their pale, long-nosed faces, their pherans, their strange language, so unlike any Indian language. They also seemed oddly self-possessed. But in the enchanting new world that had opened before me- the big deep blue skies and the tiny boats becalmed in vast lakes, the cool trout streams and the stately forests of chenar and poplar, the red-cheeked children at roadside hamlets and in apple orchards, the cows and sheep grazing on wide meadows, and, always in the valley, the surrounding mountains- in so private an experience of beauty it was hard to acknowledge the more prosaic facts of their existence; the dependence upon India, the lack of local industry, the growing number of unemployed educated youth.

Imran Khan, known as a selected Prime Minister of Pakistan, has not discussed and gained the vote of confidence in the Parliament and Senate of Pakistan before taking the consequence and risky step to open the border of Kartarpur between Pakistan and India for the Sikhs community. As a fact, it was and is a dream and agenda of the followers of the false prophet Mirza Ghulam Ahmad Qadiyani, who always wish to happen that. A prominent literary figure and editor of the weekly magazine Chatan, Aga Shurash Kashmiri wrote and warned about such suicidal conspiracy in his article of 1960, published in his magazine. Not only that, but the Qadiyani movement also preferred to gain the power to establish the Qadiyani rule as the Qadiyani State of Pakistan. Pakistan is in the phase of collapse.

In the fourth edition of the History of Srinagar 1846–1947 (2013), Mohammad Ishaq Khan quotes many customs that are common to both Muslims and Kashmiri Pandits even today. Take, for instance, the surnames common to both but mostly surviving amongst the Kashmiri Muslim community: Lone, Tantray, Raina, Chak, Teng, Rather, Thakur, Parray, Kuchay, Pal, Khanday, Dar, Rishi, Wani, Tak, Banday, Ganae.

Never, never underestimate a politician’s need to survive . . . I will not make the mistake of underestimating the political instinct of a Kashmiri, who is, additionally, Jawaharlal Nehru’s daughter.

Precisely, neither law nor action, nor force of one else can eliminate Self-determination of Kashmiris; indeed, it will be a reality of reality.

It's our Blood, it's our Pen. It's their Oppression, it's their Den. Yes, we Raise,Yes we Die. Too we Flow,Too we Fly. It's their Reign,its their Rule. It's their Rome,it's their Law. It's our Faith, it's their Flaw. We'll Stand, we'll Free. Yes,We resist,We Kashmiri_ Indian occupied Kashmir.

Like the true Gujar woman that she was, her first love was the pine forest. Her most frequently repeated saying was, in Kashmiri, Un poshi teli, yeli vun poshi, which meant, “Forests come first, food comes second.” She saw herself as the guardian of the trees of the Forest of Khel and had to be propitiated every autumn when the villagers of Pachigam and Shirmal, who both foraged there, needed to stock up on firewood before the coming of the winter snows. “You wouldn’t want our children to freeze to death,” the villagers pleaded, and eventually she would concede that human children mattered more than living wood. She would guide the village men to those trees that were closest to death and these were the only ones she would allow them to fell.

Gujarat's temple of Somnath [...] had been fortified in 1216 to protect it from attacks by Hindu rulers in neighbouring Malwa. Recorded instances of Indian kings attacking the temples of their political rivals date from at least the eighth century, when Bengali troops destroyed what they thought was the image of Vishnu Vaikuntha, Kahsmir's state deity under King Lalitaditya (r. 724-60). In the early ninth century Govinda III, a king of the Deccan's Rashtrakuta dynasty (753-982), invaded and occupied Kanchipuram in the Tamil country. Intimidated by this action, the king of nearby Sri Lanka sent Govinda several (probably Buddhist) images that the Rashtrakuta king then installed in Śiva temple in his capital. At about the same time the Pandya King Śrimara Śrivallabha (r. 815-62) also invaded Sri Lanka and took back to his capital at Madurai, in India's extreme south, a golden Buddha image -- a symbol of the integrity of the Sinhalese state -- that had been installed in the island kingdom's Jewel Palace. In the early tenth century, King Herambapala of north India's Pratihara dynasty (c.750-1036) seized a solid-gold image of Vishnu Vaikuntha when he defeated the king of Kangra, in the Himalayan foothills. By mid-century the same image had been seized from the Pratiharas by the Chandela King Yasovarman (r. 925-45), who installed it in the Lakshmana Temple of Khajuraho, the Chandelas' capital in north-central India. In the mid eleventh century the Chola King Rajadhiraja (r. 1044-52), Rajendra's son, defeated the Chalukyas and raided their capital, Kalyana, in the central Deccan plateau, taking a large black stone door guardian to his capital in Tanjavur, where it was displayed as a trophy of war. In the late eleventh century, the Kashmiri King Harsha (r. 1089-1111) raised the plundering of enemy temples to an institutionalized activity. In the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, kings of the Paramara dynasty (800-1327) attacked and plundered Jain temples in Gujarat. Although the dominant pattern here was one of looting and carrying off images of state deities, we also hear of Hindu kings destroying their enemies' temples. In the early tenth century, the Rashtrakuta monarch Indra III (r. 914-29) not only demolished the temple of Kalapriya (at Kalpi near the Jammu river), patronized by the Rashtrakutas' deadly enemies the Pratiharas, but took special delight in recording the fact.

Indeed, civilized societies have surrendered their core principle of human rights, equality, and justice; even closed its eyes, ears, and mouths only for the trade interests in the bare Indian-violation of the occupied Kashmiri dispute and the resolutions of the UN Security Council. In this context and insight, which society can authenticate and legitimate its morality and values of transparent conduct, justice, and law, while constituting itself that, in the face of the biggest democracy in the world? Thereupon, India stands as the oppressor, dictatorial and tyrannical country.

Precisely, neither law nor action, nor force of one else can eliminate the Self-determination of Kashmiris; indeed, it will be a reality of reality.

...the War on Terror is in fact a war against Islam. After all, this was never conceived of as a war against terror per se. If it were, it would have included the Basque separatists in Spain, the Christian insurgency in East Timor, the Hindu/Marxist Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka, the Maoist rebels in eastern India, the Jewish Kach and Kahane underground in Israel, the Irish Republican Army, the Sikh separatists in the Punjab, the Marxist Mujahadin-e khalq, the Kurdish PKK, and so on. Rather, this is a war against a particular brand of terrorism: that employed exclusively by Islamic entities, which is why the enemy in this ideological conflict gradually and systematically expanded to include not just the persons who attacked America on September 11, 2001, and the organisations that supported them, but also an ever-widening conspiracy of disparate groups such as Hamas in Palestine, Hizbullah in Lebanon, the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt, the clerical regime in Iran, the Sunni insurgency in Iraq, the Chechen rebels, the Kashmiri militants, the Taliban, and any other organisation that declares itself Muslim and employs terrorism as a tactic.

some of the Kashmiris belong to the lost tribes of Israel. In fact, there exists today in Srinagar the tomb of the man who founded the sect of Quadiani, whose theory is that a certain saint named Yus Asaf, who preached in many of the same parables as Christ, was indeed Jesus himself.

A kangra consists of a basket lined with earthenware and filled with glowing charcoal When winter comes a Kashmiri carries it with him wherever he goes

Nandprayag is a place that ought to be famous for its beauty and order. For a mile or two before reaching it we had noticed the superior character of the agriculture and even some careful gardening of fruits and vegetables. The peasantry also, suddenly grew handsome, not unlike the Kashmiris. The town itself is new, rebuilt since the Gohna flood, and its temple stands far out across the fields on the shore of the Prayag. But in this short time a wonderful energy has been at work on architectural carvings, and the little place is full of gemlike beauties. Its temple is dedicated to Naga Takshaka. As the road crosses the river, I noticed two or three old Pathan tombs, the only traces of Mohammedanism that we had seen north of Srinagar in Garhwal.   Little

You crossed over? You were trained in Pakistan?’ Naga asked Aijaz once he was sure Ashfaq Mir was out of earshot. ‘No. I was trained here. In Kashmir. We have everything here now. Training, weapons . . . We buy our ammunition from the army. It’s twenty rupees for a bullet, nine hundred for –’ ‘From the army?’ ‘Yes. They don’t want the militancy to end. They don’t want to leave Kashmir. They are very happy with the situation as it is. Everybody on all sides is making money on the bodies of young Kashmiris. So many of the grenade blasts and massacres are done by them.

Those eyes that stared at us for one and a half hours – they were forgiving eyes, understanding eyes. We Kashmiris do not need to speak to each other any more in order to understand each other. We do terrible things to each other, we wound and betray and kill each other, but we understand each other.

Nothing,’ said Kaushalya wistfully. ‘The sun will rise. The birds will chirp and the city will go about its business. The world does not need us, my husband. We need the world. Come, let us go inside and prepare for Bharata’s coronation. Fortunes and misfortunes come and go but life continues.’ The motif of the beloved leaving on a chariot is a recurring one in the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Ram leaves Ayodhya on his chariot and the people of Ayodhya try to stop him. Krishna leaves Vrindavan on his chariot and the milkmaids of Vrindavan try to stop him by hurling themselves before the chariot. Krishna does not keep his promise to return but Ram does. Unlike the departure of the Buddha that takes place in secret, Ram’s departure is public, with everyone weeping as the beloved is bound by duty to leave. Ram’s stoic calm while leaving the city is what makes him divine in the eyes of most people. He does what no ordinary human can do; he represents the acme of human potential. According to the Kashmiri Ramayana, Dashratha weeps so much that he becomes blind. Guha, the Boatman The chariot stopped when it reached the banks of the river Ganga. ‘Let us rest,’ said Ram. So everyone sat on the ground around the chariot. Slowly, the night’s events began to take their toll. People began to yawn and stretch. No sooner did their heads touch the ground than they fell asleep. Sita saw Ram watching over the people with a mother’s loving gaze. ‘Why don’t you sleep for some time?’ asked Sita. ‘No, the forest awaits.’ As the soft sounds of sleep filled the air, Ram alighted from the chariot and told Sumantra, ‘We will take our leave as they sleep. When they awaken tell the men and women of Ayodhya that if they truly love me, they must return home. I will see you, and them, again in fourteen years. No eclipse lasts forever.’ Ram walked upriver. Sita and Lakshman followed him. Sumantra watched them disappear into the bushes. The sky was red by the time they reached a village of fisherfolk; the sun would soon be up. ‘Guha,’ Ram

The first time Avis knelt on a chair and stirred eggs into flour to make a vanilla cake, she had an inkling of how higher orders of meaning encircle the chaos of life. Where philosophy, she already intuited, created only thought- no beds made, no children fed- in other rooms there were good things like measuring spoons, thermometers, and recipes, with their lovely, interwoven systems and codes. Avis labored over her pastries: her ingredient base grew, combining worlds: preserved lemons from Morocco in a Provencal tart; Syrian olive oil in Neapolitan cantuccini; salt combed from English marshes and filaments of Kashmiri saffron secreted within a Swedish cream. By the time Avis was in college, her baking had evolved to a level of exquisite accomplishment: each pastry as unique as a snowflake, just as fleeting on the tongue: pellucid jams colored cobalt and lavender, biscuits light as eiderdown.

You seem worried. Do not be; this burly fellow is merely our waiter, and there is no need to reach under your jacket, I assume to grasp your wallet, as we will pay him later, when we are done. Would you prefer regular tea, with milk and sugar, or green tea, or perhaps their more fragrant specialty, Kashmiri tea? Excellent choice. I will have the same, and perhaps a plate of jalebis as well. There. He has gone. I must admit, he is a rather intimidating chap. But irreproachably polite: you would have been surprised by the sweetness of his speech, if only you understood Urdu.

I don’t think Kashmiriyat is dead, nor is Sufism. If we don’t support the idea of Kashmiriyat or the Sufi tradition, it will fade out eventually, because radicalism is increasing. Sheikh Saheb was said to be a pure Musalman but he kept the Jamaat-e-Islami at bay, telling them they were not going to meddle in political life. After him, Farooq was the same way and in fact more aggressive about it, saying that they should close down all the Jamaat schools and that if Delhi funded the state, it would set up its own schools. But he did not get that much support. This is getting compromised. If you don’t do anything about Kashmir, then more and more Wahhabism will come in, as petro-dollars, etc., with their mosques growing and the lectures from their mosques increasing. A couple of years ago I was leaving Srinagar on a Friday and I was startled. Every road I passed had a loudspeaker blaring for the jumme ka namaaz. This never happened earlier. To my surprise, one of the breeding grounds of the fast-spreading radicalism is the Srinagar jail. A Kashmiri who was detained twice under the Public Security Act told me that the atmosphere of radicalism was so suffocating that you felt that you were in a jail inside a jail. So long as the likes of Masarat Alam and Qasim Fakhtoo are given free rein radicalism will grow. While Pakistan remains a factor in Kashmir, the real danger is that radicalism will end up as the lasting political legacy of Kashmir.

Osama Bin Laden, an alleged killer of Americans, caused eleven years of war to kill him, killing uncountable innocents; conversely, the Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, an obvious murderer of Indian and Kashmiri Muslims, became honourable of the White House, welcoming by the US President Joe Biden. In such a scenario, does the world honestly expect global peace?

Buried in this bureaucracy lay the units devoted to secret operations in support of the Taliban, Kashmiri guerrillas, and other violent Islamic radicals—Directorate S, as it was referred to by American intelligence officers and diplomats.

Why, Sandilands? Why?

Colonial wives had a reputation for being dowdy.

Condolence or Congratulation On 27 October 2019 The Day of Diwali celebration Whereas, Kashmiri occupation Since 27 October 1947 Thereupon The Nations of the world have left Kashmiri alone under the devastation

Indian Language Translation Companies In India,Provide Language Translation Services Such As English To Hindi,Tamil To English,Manipuri,Assamese,Kashmiri.

Mr. Prime Minister, how long do we only condemn Indian immoral hegemony and violation of United Nations Security Council's resolutions. Stich your lips or defend Kashmiris, as Tit for Tat; do not wait for unfair states to resolve this dispute, Pakistan and its forces for what exists?indian

Dear Mr. President of the USA, Donald Trump Your Excellency, Equality, justice, harmony, and love, within the concept and context of security, and respect, are for the entire humanity, not only for the USA and its people. Global peace lies in a step that; pull out your troops from the Muslim States and stop interfering with its systems and way of life; all terrorists will disappear, and peace shall prevail. One should realize the atrocities of the Isreal, against Palestinians’ determination and India, against Kashmiris that the United Nations and its Security Council fail to resolve and solve those disputes under the umbrella of the USA. Consequently, each one of us faces the consequences. You, as a leader of the great nation, ought to be great and noble; it is possible if you change your distinctive thoughts and policies; you may change human history, becoming the historical leader of the entire humanity that suffers from injustice and hunger and death. As I know that Pakistan Armed forces have devotedly and significantly sacrificed along with the Armed Forces of the USA for global peace, so never degrade your national pride, ignoring, denying, and forgetting that the sacrifice of our men and women, which we are still paying. You should cooperate, instead of becoming influenced by the opposing third party, to accuse Pakistan. We are a peaceful nation and determined to stand along with the USA forces, to eliminate all sorts of terrorists, for world peace. God bless you. - Ehsan Sehgal

Break me, Hurt me, Betray with me. I will not do anything with you, the time will take my revange.

Kahwa—also known as Saffron tea , and referred to as the "drink of the soul"—is a Kashmiri saffron tea lightly flavored with Ginkgo biloba, German Chamomil and saffron.

Just because Jews intruders started living on Palestinian land and finally become majority doesn't mean its not Palestinian land any more ?

The glorious reign of Sheikh Noor-ud-Din, Sheikh-Ul-Alam and by the title Alamdar-e-Kashmir ("Flag Bearer of Kashmir"), served as a beacon light to the Kashmiris of later generations, particularly during the many depressing days of political subjugation.

Constant fear is the dominant feeling in all Kashmiri housholds

Finding loyalty in love has become difficult, Love itself has lost its true essence.

New Delhi has historically swung from promising Kashmiris a referendum that allows them to exercise the right to self-determination, to the idea of integrating Kashmir fully into the Indian Union by any means necessary. Today, conditions in the state suggest that any attempt to abrogate Article 370 may actually worsen the conflict in Kashmir and prove counter-productive to any attempt at “full integration”.

Might I be Parsi, or Afghani? But I’m not about to get into a conversation with this man about my heritage or tell him that blue eyes have been common in my family for generations. I simply say, “I’m not Kashmiri.

Although complete removal is not possible, neutralization (abhibhava) is possible. Just as watery liquidity can be neutralized by mixing [water] with earth, or fiery heat by means of mani, mantra, and so on, just so all the fluctations (vritti) of the mind can be neutralized by means of the practice of Yoga. In describing the condition of the jīvan-mukta, the embodied liberated being, Vidyāranya quotes profusely from the Yoga-Vāsishtha. This extensive Kashmiri work, which is presented as a dialogue between the Sage Vasishtha and Prince Rāma, states (5.90–98): He is a jīvan-mukta for whom, even though he is busy with ordinary life, all this ceases to exist and [only] the space [of ultimate Consciousness] remains. He is a true jivan-mukta whose face neither flushes nor pales in pleasure or pain and who subsists on whatever comes his way. He is a true jivan-mukta who is awake when sleeping, who knows no waking, and whose knowledge is entirely free from any vāsanā. He is a true jīvan-mukta who, though responsive to feelings such as attachment, hatred, fear, and other feelings, stands wholly pure within, like space. He is a true jīvan-mukta whose real nature is not influenced by egotism and whose mind is not subjected to attachment, whether he remains active or is inactive. He is a true jīvan-mukta whom the world does not fear and who does not fear the world, and who is free from joy, jealousy, and fear. He is a true jīvan-mukta who is at peace with the ways of the world; who, though full of all learning and arts, is yet without any; and who, though endowed with mind, is without it. He is a true jīvan-mukta who, though deeply immersed in all things, keeps his head cool, just as anyone would, when engaged in attending to other’s affairs; and whose Self is whole. After leaving the condition of living liberation, he enters into liberation after death, on the disintegration of the body by lapse of tenure, even as the wind comes to a standstill. Depending on their operative karma—the so-called prārabdha-karman—the sages look and behave differently. Some, like the famous King Janaka, are very active; others prefer silence and the solitude of forests or mountains. Some let the body drop as it will; others undertake the gargantuan discipline of transmuting the body into light, as is the objective in some Tantric teachings. These external distinctions tell us nothing about the spiritual realization of those sages. All of them, however, can be expected to emanate a palpable peace that, in the words of Saint Paul, “passeth all understanding.

It is like you Kashmiri people are sucking all the oxygen from the atmosphere; you people are yourself forging bedlam; lurid rims of your life, So much muddle, it seems that you are on the last verge of your life; utterly acquiesced on the exigencies being laid out that your deviltry and malfeasance can beat humanity up like a desecrated cloth worn by a beggar. Justify yourself and let live your life not on the immutable blades of life but on the squishy sheets of love.

By March 1948 Sheikh Abdullah was the most important man in the Valley. Hari Singh was still the state’s ceremonial head – now called ‘sadr-i-riyasat’ – but he had no real powers. The government of India completely shut him out of the UN deliberations. Their man, as they saw it, was Abdullah. Only he, it was felt, could ‘save’ Kashmir for the Union. At this stage Abdullah himself was inclined to stress the ties between Kashmir and India. In May 1948 he organized a week-long ‘freedom’ celebration in Srinagar, to which he invited the leading lights of the Indian government. The events on the calendar included folk songs and poetry readings, the remembrance of martyrs and visits to refugee camps. The Kashmiri leader commended the ‘patriotic morale of our own people and the gallant fighting forces of the Indian Union’. ‘Our struggle’, said Abdullah, ‘is not merely the affair of the Kashmir people, it is the war of every son and daughter of India.’59 On the first anniversary of Indian independence Abdullah sent a message to the leading Madras weekly, Swatantra. The message sought to unite north and south, mountain and coast, and, above all, Kashmir and India. It deserves to be printed in full: Through the pages of SWATANTRA I wish to send my message of fraternity to the people of the south. Far back in the annals of India the south and north met in the land of Kashmir. The great Shankaracharya came to Kashmir to spread his dynamic philosophy but here he was defeated in argument by a Panditani. This gave rise to the peculiar philosophy of Kashmir – Shaivism. A memorial to the great Shankaracharya in Kashmir stands prominent on the top of the Shankaracharya Hill in Srinagar. It is a temple containing the Murti of Shiva. More recently it was given to a southerner to take the case of Kashmir to the United Nations and, as the whole of India knows, with the doggedness and tenacity that is so usual to the southerner, he defended Kashmir. We in Kashmir expect that we shall continue to receive support and sympathy from the people of the south and that some day when we describe the extent of our country we shall use the phrase ‘from Kashmir to Cape Comorin’.60

Srinagar is a city of bunkers. Of the world’s cities, it has the highest military presence. But Srinagar is also a city of absences. It has lost its nights to a decade and a half of curfews, and de facto curfews. It has lost its theatres. Regal, Shiraz, Neelam, Broadway — magical names I longed for throughout my childhood. They were closed before I had grown up enough to walk to a ticket counter on my own, to watch a bad Hindi movie. Srinagar has also lost its multi- religious character, with the migration of the Kashmiri Pandits in the early nineties.

Gulmarg in December is a winter wonderland nestled in the heart of the Indian Himalayas. As the first snowflakes blanket the landscape, the entire region transforms into a picturesque paradise. The quaint town of Gulmarg becomes a hub for snow enthusiasts, offering a myriad of activities such as skiing, snowboarding, and snowshoeing. The Gulmarg Gondola, one of the highest cable cars in the world, provides breathtaking views of the snow-capped peaks. Adventure-seekers can also explore the pristine forests on snowmobiles or enjoy a serene horse-drawn sledge ride. The cozy hotels and cottages offer warm hospitality and delicious Kashmiri cuisine, making Gulmarg in December an idyllic destination for a winter getaway amidst nature's splendor. click here to book now-

دل کی سرزمین" (Dil Ki Sarzameen) میری دل کی سرزمین پر کبھی اولے جو تھے برسے میری فصل بھی مٹی اور میرا آشیاں بھی ٹوٹا مجھ میں جو رہتے تھے میرے جو ہوتے تھے نہ تو اُن کا نام کہیں نہ کہیں نشان چھوٹا جو چھپے تھے راز دل میں جو تھی اُن سُنی کہانی وہ کِتاب جل گئی اور بنا مدفن ہے اُس کا

Hardly had I gone to bed when the two telephones at my bedside started ringing, almost continuously. At the other end, there were voices of alarm, of concern, of fright, sometimes muted voices of men too terror-stricken to speak. "Tonight is our last night," moaned one voice. "By morning, we -- all Kashmiri Pandits -- would be butchered," said another voice. "Send us aeroplanes; take us out of the Valley; evacuate us at night if you do not want to see our corpses in the morning," pleaded another. "Our womenfolk, our sisters, our mothers, would be abducted, and we menfolk slaughtered," shrieked yet another voice. Some callers told me that they would just hold on to their telephones so that I could hear the terrible slogans and exhortations that were emanating from hundreds of loudspeakers fitted on the mosques. The noises, they said, were deafening, and it appeared that a number of recorded tapes were being simultaneously played at a very loud pitch, causing horrible effects in resonance and permeating the atmosphere with terror and fear of imminent death.

In between, there were telephone calls from the Ministry of Home Affairs. "Additional Home Secretary this side, Sir," was the worried voice. "We are getting frantic calls from Hindus in Srinagar. Hell seems to have broken loose. The Kashmiri Pandits are in utter panic. We cannot get any officer on the phone in Srinagar." There were a number of other panic telephone calls from New Delhi. I assured everybody that I was taking action.

Torture of Kashmiris by Indian Army men is particularly galling .

The Land of Heart” On the land of my heart Where once seeds were sown and it rained, My harvest turned to dust, And my dwelling shattered. Those who used to reside within me, Who used to be mine, Neither their names were spoken Nor did any trace remain. The secrets hidden in my heart, The untold stories that were there, That book burned down, And became its tomb.

What incensed me most was that, at more or less the same time, 'ethnic revolt' in Azerbaijan and the 'Rumanian Liberation' were being telecast as a special programme. Large crowds were shown shouting: "We want freedom; we do not mind spilling our blood; death to the oppressors who have kept us in chains." If any proof of Government unimaginativeness or its disoriented functioning was needed, there it was. There could be no comparison between the case of Kashmir and that of Azerbaijan or Rumania. But it should have been understood that in the circumstances prevailing at that time, the Kashmiri youth would misread the message. Virtual incitement was provided by our own television. The timing of the telecast confirmed my impression that the political and bureaucratic mandarins of New Delhi had very little knowledge of the currents and undercurrents of the situation in Kashmir and its ground-level realities.

Indian Nationalist's support means nothing. They will support anyone who is against Muslims. Heck they support China when it comes to Xinjiang, even though Indian soldiers have died in conflict with the Chinese in the recent past

In 2021, the New York State Assembly passed a resolution calling on the Governor of New York to recognize the day as Kashmir American Day. According to the resolution, the day is meant to recognize New York's Kashmiri community and to "champion human rights including the freedom of religion".

Imran Khan, known as a selected Prime Minister of Pakistan, has not discussed and gained a vote of confidence in the Parliament and Senate of Pakistan before taking the consequence and risky step of opening the border of Kartarpur between Pakistan and India for the Sikh community. As a fact, it was and is a dream and agenda of the followers of the false prophet Mirza Ghulam Ahmad Qadiyani, who always wished for that to happen. A prominent literary figure and editor of the weekly magazine Chatan, Aga Shurash Kashmiri, wrote and warned about such a suicidal conspiracy in a 1960 article published in his magazine. Not only that, but the Qadiyani movement also preferred to gain the power to establish the Qadiyani rule as the Qadiyani State of Pakistan. Pakistan is in a phase of collapse.

The worst hypocrisy is that you are not willing to stand with Palestinians and Kashmiris because of your interests, and you even trigger a Veto against them. The world is not unaware and unfair, but you are undoubtedly.

It is well known that the term ‘Pakistan’, an acronym, was originally thought up in England by a group of Muslim intellectuals. P for the Punjabis, A for the Afghans, K for the Kashmiris, S for Sind and the ‘tan’, they say, for Baluchistan. (No mention of the East Wing, you notice; Bangladesh never got its name in the tide, and so, eventually, it took the hint and seceded from the secessionists. Imagine what such a double secession does to people!) – So it was a word born in exile which then went East, was borne-across or translated, and imposed itself on history; a returning migrant, settling down on partitioned land, forming a palimpsest on the past. A palimpsest obscures what lies beneath. To build Pakistan it was necessary to cover up Indian history, to deny that Indian centuries lay just beneath the surface of Pakistani Standard Time. The past was rewritten; there was nothing else to be done. Who commandeered the job of rewriting history? – The immigrants, the mohajirs. In what languages? – Urdu and English, both imported tongues, although one travelled less distance than the other. It is possible to see the subsequent history of Pakistan as a duel between two layers of time, the obscured world forcing its way back through what-had-been-imposed. It is the true desire of every artist to impose his or her vision on the world; and Pakistan, the peeling, fragmenting palimpsest, increasingly at war with itself, may be described as a failure of the dreaming mind. Perhaps the pigments used were the wrong ones, impermanent, like Leonardo’s; or perhaps the place was just insufficiently imagined, a picture full of irreconcilable elements, midriffbaring immigrant saris versus demure, indigenous Sindhi shalwar-kurtas, Urdu versus Punjabi, now versus then: a miracle that went wrong.

Relationships do require effort and patience, and sometimes holding on during tough times can lead to deeper connections. Holding on during difficult times can show resilience and commitment. Communication and understanding are key in resolving conflicts.

I have two of these spiritual gurus (Swami Vivekananda and Sri Aurobindo) whom I did not meet. I also had two living gurus in Jawaharlal Nehru for politics and Dr Radhakrishnan for philosophy. In my spiritual quest, I have had a whole spectrum of spiritual gurus; a Shakta guru who was a Kashmiri pandit, a Vaishnava guru who was an Englishman, a Shaiva guru who was an American, a Sufi guru who was Muslim, a Kriya yoga guru who is from Kerala. So, I have been blessed with a number of gurus and teachings around the world.

For most of us, Kashmir means a calendar hanging in our parents' bedroom, or a mutton dish cooked in the traditional way on Shivratri, or a cousin's marriage that the elders insist must be solemnized in Jammu.

Sonnet of Occupation With just weeks of lockdown, You all feel restless and bland. That is how everyday life is, For people in occupied land. Imagine living your whole life, Subject to restriction and suspicion. Ask a Palestinian or a Kashmiri, They'll reveal the face of occupation. Life, liberty and happiness, Are the rights of every being. Whenever a government violates them, Civilized humanity must intervene. I call to all humans far and near, Rest not till statehood is declared.

It is in the power of remembering that the self’s ultimate freedom consists. I am free because I remember. —Abhinavagupta, tenth-century Kashmiri philosopher and mystic

And finally, due to the flood of needs, desires have drowned and died.

Life without money is like bike without petrol.

Interestingly, even though Kashmiris had been burdened by centuries of slavery, they had a resilient spirit and a long history of resistance.

How can we comprehend the era from 1947 till 1989 – which Kashmiris see as ‘the lull before the storm’ – while in the Indian narrative it is reified as ‘peaceful’?

In the formal Indian history, native Kashmiris are often infantilized and seen as mere pawns on the chessboard of big politics in the subcontinent. Specihcally, Pakistan is projected as directing Kashmiri people’s actions and demands. Kashmiris are depicted as not having a sense of the past, nor being committed or united in a political vision of their future. That Kashmiris are demanding not only the UN-mandated self-determination but are also committed to the demand for a sovereign nation, which they were seeking before India and Pakistan emerged, is a perspective that has been well and truly erased from the official Indian narrative.

These young Kashmiris are symbolic not only of India committing human rights abuses, but more significantly, the country’s deep neglect of the demand for Kashmir’s sovereignty and self-determination. The continuing resistance in Kashmir, and the relentless struggle for self-determination and independence from India is not only a political fact but has become part of the cultural legacy of Kashmiris.