I am His promise for tomorrow

I am His promise for tomorrow

The child, ever innocent

Man’s only survival asset

But, the man in the satanic drill

Is a brute devil, the child to kill.

The sinister sinful satanic fire –

Pumped bullets, pure innocence to tear.

Still the child keeps eyes open to convey

Ah! Man what wrong did I do , please say.

Why you did not let me live, may I know.

My little heart throb is, His presence to show.

Masked with black wrap in the dark night

You came in to exhibit your terror might.

We, in ultimate  bond , beyond discription

Experiencing the holy feel of His  Creation 

In killing me and my mother, you killed the Link:

Motherhood bond, The Almighty's Instinct.

Your mission to terminate the Lord's secret

Is the stanic act to describe Him unfit.

Wandhama massacre and likes get us to see

Humans working as devil's agency.

A child in mother's lap is, His promise

Promise for tomorrow not to miss -

How can you kill tomorrow - kill tomorrow 

Can you kill, tomorrow - kill tomorrow ?

© arvind shah 27/11/17

I Am Tomorrow

I Am Tomorrow

The child ever innocent

Man’s only survival asset -

But, the man in satanic drill

Is a brute devil, the child to kill.

Now, Sinister Sinful  Satanic fire -

Man’s definition: life to rip apart and tear.

Still  child keeps – eyes open to convey

Ah! Man What wrong did I do, please say?

Let me live , please let me live, I am tomorrow

I am tomorrow – I am your tomorrow.

©Arvind Shah 2017

Air Emergency and Artificial Rain

Air Emergency

The sky is laden with no missile gunpowder

Nuclear arsenal or chemical weapon power

Yet - Delhi, the capital of India these days

Showers death in particulate matter, all the ways

Any time – every time: morning, noon, evening or night

Dangerous poisons load breath with might

The intake to reach to blood and every cell

Install pains in systems, spell by spell.

Fire, flood, earthquake, weather storms -evident

Natural disasters, to make life to give in and relent.

But the activities of man on earth to create pollution

Serves more systematic severe disaster in population

It does not let life to give in and fall flat straight

It overloads toxin cargo on living for a miserable fate.

©Arvind Shah

9/11/17

Artificial Rain

When nature works to give rain

it is all - gain and gain

but when we pull up and siphon

water from the chest of earth for fun -

whatever may be the name and definition

we put the great resource in terrible recession.

Pull up water in hurry and hurry

cruise fast, step by step ourselves to bury.

© Arvind Shah

14/11/17

book review on "whispering words" prof o n kaul

Book Review

Whispering Words: A Memoir by Omkar N Koul, Authorspess, New Delhi, Pp viii+319, 2017, Rs 595.

Reviewed by

Arvind Shah

The book is a story of scholarship, an academic graph of value addition to a child from a distant village in Kashmir: Bugam, to grow, and glow as an academic luminary. He has, by the dent of his desire to learn, commitment to learning and sincerity in dispensation of his learning found distinguished places in many institutions to work in different capacities.  He has been a teacher, a researcher, an administrator, and simultaneously a community worker.  With all his qualifications that give him worldwide recognition as a linguist of repute, an administrator of purpose and a planner of calibre, at the same time he is a common human being unable to check his tears trickle down the cheeks on finding his ancestral place reduced to rubble. He may have left his ancestral place as an adolescent, travelled to institutions all around the globe, but he wanted to settle down in his village, where his ancestors belonged to. When the author was in Agra as a research scholar his curiosity to know a fellow Kashmiri drove him to locate and visit an ‘old’ Kashmiri family (Kashmiri family that had migrated from Kashmir about 100 years earlier).  Despite the fact that the old Kashmiri family was discourteous (I may say insulting) Koul has nurtured humane feelings of great concern for Kashmiri people. His compassionate attitude has been the secret of his success. 

The book is an autobiographical work. It begins to open its leaf to peep into the life of a village in Kashmir. It is a picture of village life, family patterns and community systems – a portrait of the intertwine of the people belonging to different religious faiths, beliefs and practices for social good; a portrayal  of human relationships based on ownership of humane definitions and good for all. The joint family depicted within the compound of a home and its relationship with the neighbourhood presents rich bondages of life in a village. The strength of the society was constituted by human bonds; the ingredients of human sentiments made the mortar to fix the individual units to give rise to concrete social relations.  The village atmosphere was social where individuals constituted a family, and families constituted the community for belongingness and dignity towards one another. There were common places like riverbanks where women folk would often come to do their bit of domestic routine and at the same time have gossip and interactions. Every day in the village and the valley at large has seen a commitment to peace.

Reading through the pages of the book one gets to know about the structure of the houses, lay out of the roads and lanes most of which were mud drenched on first shower of the rain.  The details of family living and community living are described by the author not as an observer but as a component of the process. The author writes, “While living in Delhi, I dream of my village, tucked in the lap of nature’s choicest offerings. The colourful images of the morning sun reflected in the ripples of the running river in front of my home, the blue smoke escaping from the holes in the thatched roofs of neighbouring houses, the simple village folk endlessly talking to each other, the old women singing folk tales of Heemal–Naagrai,  activities of  children and many more such images float before my eyes and dissolve into each other to produce a mystifying effect that provides me solace and peace.”

The author has keenly discussed the schooling in the village and the dutifulness of the teachers towards their pupil. There was a sense of fear that every student had for the teacher. Once to locate a place on a map drawn in air by the teacher he pointed his finger towards the teacher; the teacher scolded him saying,  “Are you going to gouge my eyes”. He was a shy and not so mischievous student. He as a school boy was once taken ill, and when the teacher visited to see him at his home, he was scared of his teacher and ran out of his bedding to hide himself. His mother brought him back to be in the bed, and it is here all his fears about the teacher were cleared away when the teacher gently kept his hand on his forehead and gave him a packet of almonds.

He provides an account of his education from village school to a high school away from the village where he had to spend more than three hours on foot going up and down from his house to the school. There was a literary atmosphere around him, his father wrote poetry, and had free access to books and journals. Moreover, when he moved out of village to undergo college and university education, he had association of friends with literary taste; one of his friends during his studentship wrote a romantic novel in Urdu.    The author relates an incident, when he was back home during a vacation and was taking a bath in river Maav, an elderly Muslim from the village spoke to him “Omkar, if you become a judge in a court and I enter your court bare headed and insult you, what would you do?”  He replied immediately, “I’ll fine you Rs. 100 and will pay it myself.”  The affection was immense across different sections of the village community.

There is interesting sequence of events with a person by the name Ghani. Ghani was a thief, he was called gani watul (watul a derogative term for sweeper or cobbler), once he broke his leg in a bid to escapee scaling a wall, he started to limp and now he was called gani long (one who limps). He took an oath not to steal; the village celebrated his commitment by arranging a tea party. Soon he desired to go on the pilgrimage of Haj, the village community raised money for him to go on Haj pilgrimage, and now he was called Ghani Haji.

            The author is terribly hurt to find loss of humane dispositions in village life.  He writes, “There was absolute communal harmony in the two communities. The village experienced a breach of trust for the first time in the early sixties when the school children in the village school were instigated by a communal teacher …to desecrate the village temple and pelt stones at the houses of Hindus. … The incident was reported to the authorities at Kulgam. The Tehsildar and the Munsif of Kulgam visited the village with a few constables. …. I saw tears in the eyes of my father for the first time in my life when he narrated the incident to the officials in our courtyard. The second breach took place in more planned way in 1986. It was under the influence of some political party, when quite a few temples in the whole of Anantnag district were attacked and desecrated. The village temple was destroyed and idols were damaged. The government failed miserably in taking any action. 

            The third and final blow came with the spread of militancy in the valley, which exploded to tear the communal tranquillity in 1989 - 90.  There was a pathetic incident that took place in Kharbroor, a neighbouring village, when a Hindu youth was abducted from home by terrorists and mercilessly beaten up and tied to a vehicle and dragged for a long distance until he died. This tragic incident was the reason which forced Hindu families from the village to leave the valley for safer places. The militants looted and burned down their houses as well as the temple.”

            The feelings of the author for his village are described vividly. He got an opportunity to visit his village in 2010. He was shattered to see that all houses belonging to Hindus  reduced to a heap of rubble and trash. He writes, “It was immense pain, though everybody came out from  houses to see me, and had a story of suffering and horror to tell, but my pain was bigger than each of them.” He continues, “I couldn’t control my emotions, my tears rolled down my cheeks. It was an embarrassing situation for me...... My grief appeared more than anyone else’s…. I know, as I have said before, my permanent address is no more there, but I still feel myself belonging to Bugam and cannot forget my past. No doubt our ancestral property has been destroyed, our land almost confiscated, our foot prints defaced, idols of our deities defiled but the ashes of our homes and the mud of our rice fields still smells of me.”

            After bringing the reader face to face with the real situation in Kashmir, the book takes its readers into the story of a person, who, from a small village keeps on his quest for learning as a result of which he carries on to grow in his  profession and career. He writes learning during his first visit at the University of Illinois in USA was interesting; the hippie-movement was at its peak during the period throughout the USA.  There was anger among the youngsters about the Vietnam War in which many American soldiers were killed. There was a kind of frustration and rebellion against the faith and value system. It was all visible in the posters at public places. Writing about the variations in style of study he says, “I realised the importance of the study of Sanskrit, and also of Indian grammatical tradition which has attracted a large number of Westerners lately. It is unfortunate that not much importance is attached to this subject in the departments of linguistics in Indian universities.”

            The book is full of details of his professional engagements in different parts of the world; his associations with different scholars in different countries. The reading of these chapters are highly motivating for a scholar to understand the pros and ones of scholarship as a student, as a teacher, as a researcher and then as a guide to researchers. The administrative experiences are vividly described. The fact that one understands to have emerged from the vast experience of the author is, that accommodative nature and acceptability to understand the variation of human temperament helps a person to do his job efficiently with the support from the associated teams. Koul has worked very hard with impeccable commitment to the demands of the job. He writes, “Once in USA, Prof Tikku asked me a specific question, what do I do for myself? I was a little perplexed for some time. I talked about my academic work but it did not convince him. That was an important question I kept on asking myself very often.” 

            Back in India his job as a principal at the Northern Regional Language Centre (NRLC) Patiala (1971-1987), professor in the Faculty of Languages at the LBS National Academy of Administration (LBSNAA), Mussoorie (1987-1994), Professor-cum Deputy Director and later as Director of the CIIL was a great time for struggle, and achievements, the author writes. From LBSNAA to CIIL was a total change in the working atmosphere. His appointment as director of CIIL provided an opportunity to set things right and to boost the academic activities of the Institute. Among other activities, he organised the UNESCO International Conference on Languages of India and Asia. A large number of scholars from India and different Asian countries participated in the conference. The conference was a great success.

The details of his travels of different countries (both during service and after retirement) like Australia, Belgium, France, Kenya, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Mauritius, USA, Canada, UK, Singapore, Japan, Thailand, Russia, Pakistan, and Nepal for attending conferences, academic activities and various assignments are interesting scholastic experiences for a reader. His two travels to Pakistan (and Muzaffarabad) provides a detailed account of academic as well as socio-cultural relations between the people of two neighbouring countries.

Koul has been associated with the Kashmiri Community activities; he has contributed to the literary, educational and socio-cultural community activities. He has been the editor of Vaakh the only Kashmiri literary magazine published in Nagri script.

This is an important book for young scholars to realise the journey on the track of career growth and good interventions to transform situations for good. The strong sentiment is the importance given to righteous of action and virtue of simplicity and commitment. The book is useful for persons interested to know about the scholarship of the person and an interesting academic travelogue.  The book emanates the sense that scholarship is a means of well-being and humane virtue which can only exist when we live in peace. The book will constitute an important addition to a library be it, personal or institutional.

translation of poems of krishen joo razdan

Poems of Krishen Joo Razdan translated by Arvind Shah 

BYELL TAI MAADAL

 by  Krishna Joo Razdan

translated into English by Arvind Shah

BYELL TAI MAADAL

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva, and pray.

Oh Shiva! from your cascading hair flows the Ganga: fair,

Bhrama ,Vishno and all gods stand hand folded in prayer,

I bow in your reverence, and pray.

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva and pray.

Oh! benevolent your love springs up in me, true romance.

Master!  keep me composed not to lose the real substance,

for worldly inconsistencies keep many a trick to lay.

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva, and pray.

My love and love to Shiva, Shambu or Shankera: whatever the call,

I keep alive a burning desire in me to have your glimpse: small,

Pray own me lest I should fall in helpless fray.

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva, and pray.

Beseech: walk with your lotus feet into my being, silently,

I surrender and sacrifice every bit of my personality,

for your walking in, will get me into bliss, to stay.

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva, and pray.

Oh! Amarnatha – Neelkantha, I be done on yee,

for getting me (Krishan) – Your mercy to see.

In faithful adoration, I submit to Shiva today

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha in a bouquet

I offer to Parma Shiva, and pray.

Byell, maadal, vyanh and gulabha

name of scented herbs, shrubs and flowers offered to shiva in oblations

KRIPA KARUM HARI HARAI

by  Krishna Joo Razdan

translated into English by Arvind Shah

OH HARIHARA - BE KIND

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

I am tired and old,

held under a heavy lord,

be kind and help to cross,

enable me get across.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Water falls come from height,

shout aloud to show might,

soon get subdued and done,

on reaching the ocean.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Talking and talking gets me into rage,

and I reach into a foolish stage,

give me the worth of silence to possess,

and be worthy without recess.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Decorated nice is my plumage stock,

look like a charming peacock,

but am humbled to see,

the ugly feet with me.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Lord give me your full grace,

like the charming dawn on the earth’s surface,

lest the soul should get into trouble

to make me into worthless rubble.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Your feelings give ecstasy at the core,

gets elevation in the instincts four,

now - I beg ,I beseech and I pray

appear in me as a lucent ray.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Lord three universes You master,

found am I, of your immenseness -

Oh  Shankara,

I am raw un-spun thread: thin,

get me the strength by a true spin.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Get me into enlightenment,

To realize eternal betterment,

and I be  there, in true peace,

in blissful stage without  cease.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Untie  my (Krishna’s) hold with spontaneity:  more,

to find open the salvation door,

and there be I, with certainty,

in bliss till eternity.

Oh benevolent - be kind,

my efforts keep little to find.

Abhinav Guptus Zarepar by Krishen Joo Razdan

Translated by Arvind Shah as

A Prayer to Abhinav Gupt by Krishen Joo Razdan

Oh benevolent Lord appear

Get us your bliss to cheer

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence!

Twelve hundred devotees along with: the tall

Born saint – epitome of disciplines all

Went direct to Shiva’s abode

Eternal peace to attain and adore

Who else has gone to eternity with physical personification?

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

Death could not end your devotees’ fate

I salute and submit to you the Shiva incarnate

You are the true careful caretaker -

Defeat and death, cannot take over

Pray help  to attain salvation!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

Show us, Harmuk, the face of your radiance

To wash off our sins, thence.

In the pious river, Sind, give us, dips a few

To find, our mind, in unison with Shiv

Got all our vices to  end by the holy submersion

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

  

The sacred tracks, Ram Radh, was tread

By adults and children, true secrets to be read

And there at the mountain top

We got to get the true secrets lot

Found the eternal love revelation

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

Pray Him with pure sound

He is present everywhere: around

Nadi Chakkar, the inner system of conscience then

To be active to realise Being in Supreme Unison.

This gets to see ultimate realization!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

The Supreme feelings get forth

Welling up of the pious water from the core

All discrimination – high or low

Nude or wrapped, to go.

This unison washes all sins for real love affiliation!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

You are camphor like white fragrance all in all

You are the beholder of Holy Ganga waterfall

Pray, give us the shower of the sacred to cheer

Have and keep the bliss for ever

Devotees get the holy energy possession!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

Oh Lord, the Bharava (Shiva) we follow you

Tread your way, run impatiently after you

Get us into the Beru Cave, the eternal gateway

To reach eternity all the way

Crave, fulfil my urge to have an immortal nectar immersion!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

My miseries  have vanished

My despair finished

I have found the way to thajvoor: the ultimate to meet:

The place of Shiva’s abode and seat.

In the eternal cave, the Lord will welcome for we have become one!

As Abhinav Gupt, the saint scholar, once

Did to his devotees by his benevolence.

i have been given the responsibility to be the editor-in-chief shahul taaph magazine, it is a socio-cultural magazine of kashmir owned and published by KECSS, i request all my friends to contribute apolitical articles for the magazine