A rejoinder to 'Peace imperative for Progress'
Veenapandita koul
Prof. A.N. Sadhu in his article, “Peace imperative for progress” published in The Kashmir Times on Nov.14, 2009 has hammered the factors leading to peace building, which if practised will attain tranquility and freedom from civil disorder and eventually to progress - to development and improvement, to keep us going on. It is a fact that we all crave for the peace to return in the valley. It feels the paradise is lost somewhere.
I am reminded of good old days when Kashmir was famous for Kashmiriyat, which would mean love, brotherhood, respect shown to guests (Mehman-nawazi), refraining from blood-shed - irrespective of colour, caste and creed, in short respect for human values. One could see people walking by the road-side during late night hours without any apprehensions of Ghosts roaming around. The valley of Kashmir looked colourful not only with the flowers, the green Chinars and the meadows but also with the colourful dresses of tourists. Tourism used to be the back-bone of the economy of Kashmir and had lead to its progress. The common people have the realization of the loss they have incurred by losing tourism in Kashmir. They perfectly understand that the pressures of not keeping peace at a cost are telling hard on the economy of the state in many ways. The mindsets of the common people have not changed or they have not turned hostile to peace. They have also not lost the realm of Kashmiriyat nor has their blood turned into water. Somehow, the rich culture, for which Kashmir is famous for, and the Kashmiriyat, for which the Kashmiris are known for, has gone dormant somewhere. Twenty years have passed in turmoil, exile and anguish; and allowing the state of affairs like this for another ten years will mean an irreversible change in our culture.
We need to awake ourselves to listen to our inner-voice, which I am sure is for peace and progress, not only materialistic one but of mind, body and soul. Need of the hour is to revive kashmiriyat for which we all are proud of. This way we will not only be doing good to our generation but to the posterity as well. Otherwise we will have to be answerable to the generations to come. Trust, tolerance and cooperation need to be imbibed to regain the blissful situation. Peace definitely cannot be enjoyed under the shadows of ghosts and guns. We need to nurture and promote our age-old values to re-establish peace. It may seem that peace has become an expensive affair to attain. It definitely costs men, money, material, time and energy to make peace attainable. But at the same time we need to ask ourselves that what price we are paying for not maintaining peace and order. And what shall be the outcome of true peace? let us all search as the answer lies within our minds.
While concluding I am reminded of the parable about our great emperor, Akbar, who once ordered each household to deposit one jar of milk in a tank to build up a reservoir of milk to feed poor children. All his subjects’ responded. The next morning when the lid of the tank was opened it was filled with clean water instead of milk. Perplexed he turned to the wise Birbal for an explanation and there came an explanation that it happened to be a classical case of individual gain and collective loss. Each one had deposited a jar of water thinking that it would go undetected among hundreds of gallons of milk brought by others.
If we think that our individual contribution will have no significant impact on the overall system, then we are bound to end up with a crippled and callous society. Let us all contribute whatever little we can and be the change that we would like to see around us to create peaceful lives for ourselves and for our posterity.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I saw God in his eyes
I saw God in his eyes
Veena p koul
It was in 1987 that we shifted to live in a rented accommodation at Karan Nagar, Srinagar. Mornings would fill me with joy and energy. The breeze, the chirping sounds of birds, the fresh fragrance of flowers would freshen and elate me. I was in love with myself and hence would enjoy every routine work that would come my way for the rest of the day. And the routine would start by the knock of the milkman at the door of the compound wall which would make me rush with a pot in my hand to fetch milk.
One day while I rushed to fetch the milk, I happened to see a person who had a strange freshness in his demeanour. He was white-bearded wearing white kurta-pajama and a karakuli cap, and had a cool and composed look.
Next day I happened to see him the same time again with a visible serenity in his personality- a saintly look in his eyes. Later, I realized that it might have been the time for his return from a morning walk or may be morning prayers; and that he lived in immediate neighbourhood. Thereafter whenever I would see him, I would bow my head with respect and he would smile to bless. I hardly remember having conversed with him. His unspoken blessings would freshen me sort of the way one is blessed in a temple. It continued for about two years. By this time militancy in Kashmir reached at its peak. Hindus fell prey to exodus, feeling concerned about their safety. On the other hand Muslims in general felt equally concerned and would often come with a question as to why the Hindus should flee. Kashmiri Muslims took it as struggle for libration and Pandits took it as anti-national movement. In short, all confusion and chaos.
One unfortunate day one of our close relatives, living in neighbourhood fell prey to militancy and got killed in his office. It shocked us beyond repairs. We decided to leave Srinagar temporarily which would help us to recover from the shock. The day we had to leave, my brother left to fetch a taxi early in the morning. I was supposed to wait for him outside at the gate of the house in the street. It was almost the time for the milk-man to come and the man to pass. With a suitcase in my hand while I was waiting for the taxi, I saw two young men approaching me. Their body language was what some would describe those of militants. They started questioning me and directed me to follow them. I was shocked and terrified. I felt numb as I could feel death approaching me. Suddenly, I saw the man crossing from the other side of the road. Understanding the situation, he stood between the two and me, almost covering me with his Pharan that he was wearing. He had a verbal encounter with them and I heard him saying, “I swear by Kuran Sharieff, I will not allow any untoward happening here or you will have to kill me first.” He had absolute command in his voice. He held me by the arm and helped me to walk away from them.
After a few minutes my brother approached with a taxi. The man opened the door of the taxi and guided me inside. I was shivering with a mixed feeling of love and anger. He blessed me with his hand on my head and his words still resound in my ears, “Allah bless you, my child. He not only saves innocents but also regards innocence”.
Later, it might have taken me days and months to recover from the shock, but I know I came out with the strength of believing in humanity. From then onwards very often I close my eyes, I see his white-bearded smiling face and light-radiating kind eyes, with a Karakuli cap on his head, in short He in the form of a human-being- Him in his eyes.
Militancy and terrorism, no doubt, is a matter of grave concern particularly in the event of its becoming a global phenomenon. But I am of firm belief that terrorists and militants have no religion because no religion is devoid of human-values and teaches killings. It is only a handful of people who for their own petty gains indulge in anti-human activities. I am sure the world survives because common man believes in peace and harmony, values innocence, protects innocents and regards human-values.
veenapkoul@gmail.com
Veena p koul
It was in 1987 that we shifted to live in a rented accommodation at Karan Nagar, Srinagar. Mornings would fill me with joy and energy. The breeze, the chirping sounds of birds, the fresh fragrance of flowers would freshen and elate me. I was in love with myself and hence would enjoy every routine work that would come my way for the rest of the day. And the routine would start by the knock of the milkman at the door of the compound wall which would make me rush with a pot in my hand to fetch milk.
One day while I rushed to fetch the milk, I happened to see a person who had a strange freshness in his demeanour. He was white-bearded wearing white kurta-pajama and a karakuli cap, and had a cool and composed look.
Next day I happened to see him the same time again with a visible serenity in his personality- a saintly look in his eyes. Later, I realized that it might have been the time for his return from a morning walk or may be morning prayers; and that he lived in immediate neighbourhood. Thereafter whenever I would see him, I would bow my head with respect and he would smile to bless. I hardly remember having conversed with him. His unspoken blessings would freshen me sort of the way one is blessed in a temple. It continued for about two years. By this time militancy in Kashmir reached at its peak. Hindus fell prey to exodus, feeling concerned about their safety. On the other hand Muslims in general felt equally concerned and would often come with a question as to why the Hindus should flee. Kashmiri Muslims took it as struggle for libration and Pandits took it as anti-national movement. In short, all confusion and chaos.
One unfortunate day one of our close relatives, living in neighbourhood fell prey to militancy and got killed in his office. It shocked us beyond repairs. We decided to leave Srinagar temporarily which would help us to recover from the shock. The day we had to leave, my brother left to fetch a taxi early in the morning. I was supposed to wait for him outside at the gate of the house in the street. It was almost the time for the milk-man to come and the man to pass. With a suitcase in my hand while I was waiting for the taxi, I saw two young men approaching me. Their body language was what some would describe those of militants. They started questioning me and directed me to follow them. I was shocked and terrified. I felt numb as I could feel death approaching me. Suddenly, I saw the man crossing from the other side of the road. Understanding the situation, he stood between the two and me, almost covering me with his Pharan that he was wearing. He had a verbal encounter with them and I heard him saying, “I swear by Kuran Sharieff, I will not allow any untoward happening here or you will have to kill me first.” He had absolute command in his voice. He held me by the arm and helped me to walk away from them.
After a few minutes my brother approached with a taxi. The man opened the door of the taxi and guided me inside. I was shivering with a mixed feeling of love and anger. He blessed me with his hand on my head and his words still resound in my ears, “Allah bless you, my child. He not only saves innocents but also regards innocence”.
Later, it might have taken me days and months to recover from the shock, but I know I came out with the strength of believing in humanity. From then onwards very often I close my eyes, I see his white-bearded smiling face and light-radiating kind eyes, with a Karakuli cap on his head, in short He in the form of a human-being- Him in his eyes.
Militancy and terrorism, no doubt, is a matter of grave concern particularly in the event of its becoming a global phenomenon. But I am of firm belief that terrorists and militants have no religion because no religion is devoid of human-values and teaches killings. It is only a handful of people who for their own petty gains indulge in anti-human activities. I am sure the world survives because common man believes in peace and harmony, values innocence, protects innocents and regards human-values.
veenapkoul@gmail.com
Friday, November 6, 2009
The Riddle
The Riddle
Veenapkoul
It is very difficult to understand child psychology. How so ever liberal we may be, sometimes we fail to accommodate the whims and moods of our children. We never raise our level of understanding to appreciate theirs but instead we try our utmost to thrust our opinion and decisions on them. We pick up unnecessary cudgels and at times argue a lot to convince them. And even if we yield to their decision, we undergo many sleepless nights. Later, may be after years we understand that it had been much ado about nothing. Or, it may leave us puzzled whether we were right or wrong in dealing with our children.
I remember one such incident about my daughter. Once when she was in class 11, she expressed desire to buy a pair of sandals with high platform heels for herself. I have had virtual aversion for such type of high heels. I have always felt walking on them is very risky as one is susceptible to fall and hurting or even breaking one’s bones. Moreover, I had a notion that big platform heeled sandals are not for sophisticated and elegant ladies. Whenever I would see ladies wearing such sandals I would feel they have one-ton trucks underneath their feet. With such a bent of mind you can well imagine how I must have felt on hearing her demand. “High heels!” I almost yelled at her, “No, my child ! wearing heels is not good for you. And that too at this young age! No, not at all.”
No, I need to wear them,” she asserted. “Why?” I wanted to know the reason. “I will be as tall as Shahdab and even taller than Mahavash,” she replied quickly. “But does it really matter?” I sounded disturbed. “But Mom, I want to look tall”, she said with enthusiasm. “You are beautiful, my dear. And beauty needs no ornaments. It comes from within. You are an angel -- a golden one and very precious to me,” I heard myself arguing. “I simply want it. And that’s it.” I could sense adamance in her behavior which I had seen for the first time.
She had been a child far more mature than her age. I have never had problems of any sort with her. She would always understand my logic and I would always yield to her genuine demands. I am of firm belief that parents need not to thrust their choice on children and at the same time have to be watchful that their freedom of choice is for their benefit and development. So being of this conviction, I and my daughter would discuss all problems mutually and I would let her take final decision, which would coincide with mine always.
This time it was different. I tried every skill and knowledge of management but all in vain. Finally, it had to be her decision. We went to the market, got the sandals of her choice - a pair of very high plat-form heels, which kept troubling me for quite some time.
Now, after six years I find that there is a complete change in her choice of wearing sandals. She has switched over to complete flat ones, though this time at her age I would like her to wear sandals with sharp small heels. Sometime back I expressed this desire to her. She simply laughed it over saying, “Mom, flat sandals are smart and comfortable. I know I am, what I am. Heels or no heels, I can carry myself. And Mom, beauty needs no ornaments. It comes from within.” “Yes, my dearest,” I heard cry of a proud mother.
Whenever I am reminded of this, it comes as a riddle to my mind, which probably you may help me resolve. Should I have yielded to her demand straight way understanding that in course of time she would realize of her own what is right and what is wrong? Or, has my explaining to her or showing displeasure at that point of time left some imprint in her mind that has made her eventually think in the right direction? Was the trouble that I undertook worthwhile or worthless?
Veenapkoul
It is very difficult to understand child psychology. How so ever liberal we may be, sometimes we fail to accommodate the whims and moods of our children. We never raise our level of understanding to appreciate theirs but instead we try our utmost to thrust our opinion and decisions on them. We pick up unnecessary cudgels and at times argue a lot to convince them. And even if we yield to their decision, we undergo many sleepless nights. Later, may be after years we understand that it had been much ado about nothing. Or, it may leave us puzzled whether we were right or wrong in dealing with our children.
I remember one such incident about my daughter. Once when she was in class 11, she expressed desire to buy a pair of sandals with high platform heels for herself. I have had virtual aversion for such type of high heels. I have always felt walking on them is very risky as one is susceptible to fall and hurting or even breaking one’s bones. Moreover, I had a notion that big platform heeled sandals are not for sophisticated and elegant ladies. Whenever I would see ladies wearing such sandals I would feel they have one-ton trucks underneath their feet. With such a bent of mind you can well imagine how I must have felt on hearing her demand. “High heels!” I almost yelled at her, “No, my child ! wearing heels is not good for you. And that too at this young age! No, not at all.”
No, I need to wear them,” she asserted. “Why?” I wanted to know the reason. “I will be as tall as Shahdab and even taller than Mahavash,” she replied quickly. “But does it really matter?” I sounded disturbed. “But Mom, I want to look tall”, she said with enthusiasm. “You are beautiful, my dear. And beauty needs no ornaments. It comes from within. You are an angel -- a golden one and very precious to me,” I heard myself arguing. “I simply want it. And that’s it.” I could sense adamance in her behavior which I had seen for the first time.
She had been a child far more mature than her age. I have never had problems of any sort with her. She would always understand my logic and I would always yield to her genuine demands. I am of firm belief that parents need not to thrust their choice on children and at the same time have to be watchful that their freedom of choice is for their benefit and development. So being of this conviction, I and my daughter would discuss all problems mutually and I would let her take final decision, which would coincide with mine always.
This time it was different. I tried every skill and knowledge of management but all in vain. Finally, it had to be her decision. We went to the market, got the sandals of her choice - a pair of very high plat-form heels, which kept troubling me for quite some time.
Now, after six years I find that there is a complete change in her choice of wearing sandals. She has switched over to complete flat ones, though this time at her age I would like her to wear sandals with sharp small heels. Sometime back I expressed this desire to her. She simply laughed it over saying, “Mom, flat sandals are smart and comfortable. I know I am, what I am. Heels or no heels, I can carry myself. And Mom, beauty needs no ornaments. It comes from within.” “Yes, my dearest,” I heard cry of a proud mother.
Whenever I am reminded of this, it comes as a riddle to my mind, which probably you may help me resolve. Should I have yielded to her demand straight way understanding that in course of time she would realize of her own what is right and what is wrong? Or, has my explaining to her or showing displeasure at that point of time left some imprint in her mind that has made her eventually think in the right direction? Was the trouble that I undertook worthwhile or worthless?
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