SANJAY PANDITA
The poem “Asi Gacchi Asun Yikbut Gaam” by Shad Ramzan is not merely a poem of remembrance; it is a poetic resurrection of Kashmir’s wounded soul. Emerging from the debris of separation, mistrust, exile, and fractured coexistence, the poem transforms memory into resistance and nostalgia into a moral vision. It is written in the language of longing, but beneath that longing lies a powerful philosophical and civilizational statement. The poem does not merely mourn the loss of communal harmony; it seeks to recreate an entire spiritual geography where shrines, temples, rivers, songs, mothers, saints, and ordinary villagers once breathed together in one cultural rhythm.
The poem stands as a lyrical testament to what Kashmir once represented — not merely a land divided by identities, but a shared consciousness shaped by centuries of spiritual pluralism. Through layered metaphors, folk memories, mystic allusions, and cultural symbols, Shad Ramzan reconstructs the idea of Kashmir as a living civilization rather than a disputed territory. Every line carries the fragrance of collective memory, and every image becomes symbolic of coexistence, syncretism, and the pain of separation.
The repeated refrain, “Asi Gacchi Asun Yikbut Gaam ” (“We desire that shared village again”), functions as both lament and invocation. The “village” in the poem is not simply a physical settlement; it is a metaphor for the lost cultural ethos of Kashmir. It symbolizes a world where identities coexisted without fear, where human relationships transcended religious divisions. The repetition of this line gives the poem the cadence of a prayer, almost like a collective chant emerging from a wounded civilization yearning to heal itself.
The opening address — ”Hey But baya wal az samkhav kadal thathis pyath “O Pandit brother, come let us meet upon the railing of the bridge” — is profoundly symbolic. The “bridge” here is not merely architectural; it becomes a metaphor for reconnection, reconciliation, and dialogue. Bridges unite divided shores, and in the poem it signifies the longing to reconnect fractured communities. The poet deliberately chooses the bridge railing as the meeting place because it overlooks flowing water — another recurring symbol in Kashmiri mystical imagination. The river beneath silently symbolizes time, continuity, and history, while the bridge becomes humanity’s attempt to overcome separation.
One of the most powerful symbolic images in the poem is the placement of the mosque beside the temple. The poet writes that beside the spring there should be a mosque near the temple where both the Azaan and temple bells coexist. This is not presented merely as an architectural arrangement but as a metaphysical vision of harmony. The spring itself symbolizes purity and continuity — an eternal source of life. By placing the mosque and temple beside the same spring, the poet suggests that spiritual truth ultimately flows from one shared source despite different rituals and names. The simultaneous sound of Allahu Akbar and temple bells becomes an auditory metaphor for Kashmiriyat — the unique syncretic culture of Kashmir shaped by both Sufi and Shaivite traditions.
The references to Lal Ded and Nund Rishi deepen the mystical architecture of the poem. Lal Ded nursing Nund Rishi is one of the most enduring legends of Kashmiri spiritual consciousness, and Shad Ramzan uses it as a metaphor for civilizational motherhood. Lal Ded here transcends her individual identity and becomes symbolic of Kashmir itself — nurturing all traditions through love and wisdom. The act of feeding milk becomes symbolic of spiritual inheritance. Milk in mystical literature often symbolizes purity, knowledge, and divine nourishment. By invoking this image, the poet suggests that Kashmir’s spiritual traditions were never separate entities but nourished each other organically.
The line concerning “ Lali Hund Nilwath” the “blue stone of Lal” carries deep symbolic resonance. The stone refers to the legendary stone placed beneath Lal Ded’s bowl to reduce her food while creating the illusion of abundance. In the poem, this blue stone becomes a metaphor for concealed suffering — the silent pain endured by women, saints, and even civilizations. When Habba Khatoon hears of this stone and weeps, her tears symbolize the continuity of feminine sorrow across generations of Kashmiri history. Habba Khatoon herself represents longing, exile, and emotional dispossession. Her grief is not merely personal; it mirrors Kashmir’s own heartbreak.
The poem repeatedly merges folklore with spirituality, creating a symbolic tapestry where myth and reality coexist. The references to Himal and Nagrai invoke Kashmiri folklore associated with impossible love and sacrifice. These figures symbolize emotional endurance and the human longing to transcend barriers. Similarly, the invocation of Rasul Mir through saffron imagery carries enormous poetic significance. Saffron, the most iconic symbol of Kashmir, here becomes a metaphor for beauty, fragrance, memory, and poetic passion. When saffron calls Rasul Mir, it is as though the land itself calls its lost poetic spirit back home.
The imagery of lamps being lit and garden gates opening further reinforces the theme of awakening and reconciliation. Lamps traditionally symbolize hope, enlightenment, and spiritual victory over darkness. The opening of the garden gates evokes the reopening of closed hearts and fractured relationships. Gardens in Kashmiri literary tradition often symbolize paradise, innocence, and collective belonging. Thus, the poem imagines not merely political peace but emotional and spiritual restoration.
Equally significant is the celebration of both Shivratri and Eid within the same poetic landscape. Walnuts of Shivratri and Eid greetings coexist naturally, suggesting a culture where festivals were not isolated religious events but shared social experiences. This coexistence becomes a metaphor for mutual participation in each other’s joys and sorrows. The poem thus resists narrow definitions of identity and instead proposes an inclusive cultural memory.
The references to sacred spaces such as Makhdoom Sahib Shrine, Kheer Bhawani Temple, and Charar-e-Sharif transform the poem into a spiritual pilgrimage across Kashmir’s shared sacred geography. These places symbolize not division but interconnected devotion. The poet moves seamlessly between shrines and temples, suggesting that spirituality in Kashmir historically transcended rigid boundaries. The journey from one sacred site to another symbolizes the continuity of collective memory despite fragmentation.
Music and folk traditions also emerge as metaphors of unity. The women singing Wanwun together symbolize the continuity of oral culture and collective emotional expression. Folk songs in Kashmiri culture are communal acts; they dissolve individuality into shared rhythm. The children collecting walnuts and almonds symbolize innocence and continuity — the possibility that future generations may inherit harmony instead of hatred.
The final section of the poem shifts from nostalgia to moral urgency. The imagery of tilling land together, rowing boats together through storms and snow, becomes symbolic of shared struggle and shared destiny. Life itself is imagined as a turbulent river where survival depends upon collective effort. The prayer to carry the boat safely across transforms the river into a metaphor for existence and the boat into the fragile human condition navigating history’s storms.
The concluding invocation — “Paghahuuk doh Diye Asi Ilzam” (“Let tomorrow not accuse us”) — emerges as the emotional and moral crescendo of the poem, carrying within it the ache of separation and the trembling hope of reunion. It is not merely a line of lamentation; it is a cry rising from the wounded conscience of a fractured civilization. The poet does not mourn only the physical loss of a shared homeland, but the slow erosion of human warmth, memory, and centuries-old coexistence that once defined the Kashmiri village.
What lends this line its haunting beauty is the intense longing hidden beneath its simplicity. There is a desperate desire to forget the bitterness of history, to bury the scars of suspicion and exile, and to return once again to that intimate world where relationships were stronger than identities. The poet yearns for a time when the village was not divided by fear, when the mosque and temple breathed beneath the same sky, when human affection transcended religious boundaries, and when shared festivals, shared grief, and shared laughter formed the true soul of Kashmir.
The appeal — (Az hai Mashravith Mansaavav, paghuk doh diyi asi ilzam, Asi Gacchi Asun Yikbut Gaam) “Let us forget and speak together that we desire that shared village again” — becomes an invocation of reconciliation. Memory here is not used to deepen wounds, but to heal them. The poet wishes humanity to rise above revenge and reclaim the lost ethics of companionship. The “shared village” becomes a powerful metaphor for collective belonging, cultural harmony, and the spiritual unity that once flowed naturally through Kashmiri life. It symbolizes not merely a geographical space, but a civilization of mutual trust where human beings recognized each other first through love and neighborliness.
Thus, the poem transcends nostalgia and transforms into a deeply humanistic vision. It becomes both elegy and prayer — an elegy for a broken world and a prayer for its restoration. Beneath every line lies an unspoken yearning that future generations should inherit not the ashes of hatred, but the fragrance of coexistence. The poet fears that history may one day question humanity for allowing such a luminous culture of togetherness to perish in silence. Therefore, the poem stands as a soulful reminder that the greatest redemption lies not in remembering divisions, but in rediscovering the courage to live together once again.
Stylistically, Shad Ramzan employs a flowing oral cadence deeply rooted in Kashmiri folk traditions. The poem moves like a collective memory being narrated beside a fire or riverbank. Its language remains deceptively simple, yet beneath that simplicity lies immense symbolic density. The poem’s power emerges not through ornamentation alone but through emotional authenticity and cultural rootedness.
Ultimately,”Asi Gacchi Asun Yikbut Gaam “ We desire that shared village again” is a poem about the recovery of moral imagination. It argues that Kashmir’s true identity lies not in political binaries but in its centuries-old culture of shared spirituality, shared suffering, and shared humanity. The poem does not seek revenge against history; rather, it seeks reconciliation with memory. Through its metaphors of bridges, rivers, lamps, shrines, milk, saffron, and songs, the poem carries one profound message: civilizations survive not through hatred and division, but through remembrance, compassion, and the courage to rebuild human bonds.
The writer is a Poet,columnist, critical Analyst ,can be reached at sanjaypanditasp@gmail.com
