Monthly Archives: June 2017
Walking with Nanak to uncover Sikh History
The first thing that immediately catches your attention is the beautifully illustrated cover, that has Guru Nanak in saffron robes, a staff in one hand and a rosary in other, all set for a long journey. And if the alluring illustration was not enough, the title itself invites you on a journey, Walking with Nanak, scores big in the first instance itself.
The author of this book is Haroon Khalid, who is a teacher by vocation and an avid traveler and writer by passion. This book is his third one, the other being A White Trail and In
Search of Shiva. Basically, over the years Haroon has been writing on issues related to the minority communities in Pakistan, namely the Hindus and the Sikh. He is a sort of wandering chronicler who talks about the status and the current state of monuments related to Hindus and Sikhs in Pakistan.
In the present book, Walking with Nanak, Haroon makes an interesting journey of all the important points of reference in Guru Nanak’s life as they exist in Pakistan. Guru Nanak was born in Rai Bhoi di Talwindi or what is known as Nankanasahib in 1469 and breathed his last in Kartarpur in 1539. In the 70 odd years that he lived on this planet, he made an astounding journey across the Indian subcontinent visiting places like Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Saudi Arabia and so on. He apparently made 4-5 or five journeys that took him all over the place. Yet, at the end of it, he would return to his ancestral place in Pakistan at the culmination of each trip. Thus, because of this association with the first Sikh guru, the shrines in current day Pakistan are very important for the religion.
Guru Nanak traveled across all the places on foot and was accompanied by a companion 
named Mardana, who was a Muslim man from his village. Mardana would accompany him and play rubab on which Guru Nanak would sing his poems. The bond between that of Guru Nanak and Mardana is that of a murshid (guide) and mureed (follower). Haroon too travels to all the sites accompanied by his murshid, Iqbal Qaiser, whom he considers to be his mentor (and much more). Being a scholar (self-taught) on Sikhism, conversations with Iqbal provide an interesting insight on what has been the religious state of affairs post partition.
Relying on the Janamsakhis as a guide, Haroon “travels to historical places and witnessing the unfolding of history with imagination”. Through the pages we uncover the numerous legends pertaining to Guru Nanak’s life right from Sacha Sauda to Panja Sahib. We also encounter interesting legends like how Guru Nanak had cursed the village of Kanganpur with “May the village of Kanganpur prosper.” Meanwhile, he had blessed the village of Manakdele as,”this is a hospitable village and it was an honour to stay here. I hope that this village never prospers and remains small. May the villagers of Manakdeke scatter from this place to the different regions of the world.”
But Haroon does not limit himself to Nanak, he gives us an insightful overview of the Sikh history, giving us a ringside view of the intricacies of how the various Gurus rose to power. 
And also tackling the contentious history of the relation between the Mughals and the Sikh Gurus. In a strange karmic way, the destiny of the Mughals seemed to be entwined with Sikh Gurus. For instance, the first Mughal king Babur had an encounter with Guru Nanak, whom he jailed for a few days in 1519. Post that in 1606, the 5th Guru Arjan Das was executed and Guru Hargobind was incarcerated on the orders of Emperor Jahangir. Then in 1675, the 9th Guru Tegbahadur was killed on the orders of Emperor Aurangzeb. And then in 1707, the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb died, and the empire when into decline, the last living guru of the Sikhs, Guru Gobindsingh was murdered by Pathan horsemen in 1708. Haroon deals with this history at length, chronicling the transition of the Sikh Gurus as a religious head to that of a military one, like the formation of the Khalsa by Guru Tegh Bahadur. He also touches upon the fratricidal conflicts like the one with Prith Chand on the selection of his younger brother Arjan as the Guru. Or even the objection by Guru Nanak’s elder son and wife to the appointment of his disciple as a successor. Continue reading
Kashmir: An albatross around India’s neck?
Kashmir is ablaze yet again. This time, over the killing of a terrorist Sabzar Bhat from the Hizbul Mujahedeen by the Indian security forces. The Valley seems to have erupted in support of the slain mercenary. Protests broke out in southern Kashmir, especially in Tahab area of Pulwama, Anantnag, and Shopian. The turmoil that has been kicked up on
Bhat’s death seems to be like deja vu, a replay, of the anarchy that had gripped the Valley last year when Burhan Wani, another Hizbul terrorist, was gunned down by Indian forces.
Bhat’s death seems to be like deja vu, a replay, of the anarchy that had gripped the Valley last year when Burhan Wani, another Hizbul terrorist, was gunned down by Indian forces. So why is the northern-most region of India erupting in violence over the death of dreaded terrorists like Wani and Bhat? Why is that the populace in Kashmir more sympathetic to the cause of the radicals rather than those of nationals? Why is Kashmir burning? Why are the Kashmiris so thankless and so darn unpatriotic?
These are some of the basic queries that seem to crop up in the mind of the Indians across the mainland. Fuelled by jingoistic coverage of events on media, which almost borders on absurd, there seems to be an invisible wall that lies between Kashmir and India. We seem to be looking at each other through a coloured prism, unable to understand or comprehend.
What could be the reason for this disconnect? Do we really understand the problems that beleaguer Kashmir? Are we even aware?
A political issue or something more
The turmoil in Kashmir is often portrayed as an old issue, dating back to right when India attained independence from the British. The story of Kashmir and its accession to India is too well-known to require a repetition. But let me add that the wounds that were opened in ’47, have not healed or have not been allowed to heal by various elements within and beyond the borders.
Meanwhile, back in mainland India, Kashmir is portrayed as a law and order problem, Pakistan is blamed for fanning the flames of violence, and so on. The common argument is that till 1989, weren’t the Kashmiris cohabiting with Indians happily, letting the Yash Chopras of the world shoot Bollywood movies in the charming locales. Now, if azaadi was not desirable till the 90s, how did the game change so drastically and dramatically? Why did the Shikara-driving or Kahwa-sipping Kashmiri suddenly develop political ambitions and such massive ones?In our allergy to the word azaadi, what we really fail to realise is that it quite widespread in the Valley. From the rich owner of the houseboat to the lowly Gujjar horseman, everyone would at some time or the other talk about the concept of azaadi in varying degree of rapture. Instead of retreating into our patriotic shell, we need to face up to the call for azaadi, asking aloud as to whom is this freedom sought from; the Indian state or the state of affairs in Kashmir?
Solving it with might
In the stirring poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Coleridge tells a tale of a ship caught in a storm in the Antarctic waters and is rescued by the appearance of an albatross that guides the ship to safety. One of the mariners on board shoots the bird and brings bad luck to the ship. As the ship gets stuck in the ocean, the crew blames the mariner for the ill-luck and hang the dead albatross around his neck, as a sort of punishment or reminder of his crime.
Metaphorically, Kashmir seems like an albatross around India’s neck. The difference is, it isn’t yet dead but gasping for air, mortally wounded. Like the mariner in the poem who killed the beautiful bird with a gun, we too seem to be doing so, with lot many guns and an amazing array of them (AK47s, pellets, rubber, tear-gas).
Kashmir is being strangulated by the very hands that are meant to save it. And no prizes for guessing; it is the Indian military.
The first striking thing that you notice the moment you step out of Sheikh-ul-Alam Airport in Srinagar is the sheer numbers of security forces on the street. All over the roads, the crossroads, the corners, the hillocks, the distance, the near, the shops, the roundabouts,
the camps, the schools, the ATMs, everywhere that you see are men in fatigues armed with automatics. One gets a rather odd feeling at seeing such pervasive military presence. I mean, you kind of wonder, whether you have accidentally landed in Kabul or Baghdad instead of Srinagar.
the camps, the schools, the ATMs, everywhere that you see are men in fatigues armed with automatics. One gets a rather odd feeling at seeing such pervasive military presence. I mean, you kind of wonder, whether you have accidentally landed in Kabul or Baghdad instead of Srinagar.Apparently, there’s a record in the Guinness Book as well that talks about Kashmir being the most militarised place on the planet. Figures vary from a few lakh to a couple of millions depending on bias behind the number. Nevertheless, even on a per capita Kashmiri basis, the sheer number of Indian military force is mind numbing.