Syed Nissar H Gilani
Growing up in Kashmir, I witnessed history unfold through the figure of Sheikh Abdullah. My memories of him are not just of a political leader but of a person who was a colossal force in our lives.
My earliest memory of him dates back to 1953. I was a child then, and I recall my mother’s hand tightening around mine as we heard the thunderous slogan, “Sher-i-Kashmir Zindabad” (“Long live the Lion of Kashmir”) echoing outside our window. It was a time of immense political turmoil, and my young mind couldn’t grasp the significance of the commotion. Months later, the tragic scene of two protesters shot dead near our home left an indelible mark on me. The sight of blood staining the streets was my first, jarring lesson in the reality of politics.
As an adult, I came to understand the deeper context of those events—the protests followed Sheikh Abdullah’s arrest and dismissal from power. Yet, a decade later, in 1964, I witnessed a different kind of fervor. Sheikh Abdullah was given a heroic welcome upon his return to Srinagar. I stood among the crowd near Ahdoos Hotel, hearing student leaders like Engineer Anwar Ashai and Ab. Rashid Kaballi lead the chants, a testament to his enduring popularity.
I recall his powerful speech at Eidgah, where he pledged to build a hospital in Kashmir comparable to the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) in Delhi. The crowd’s enthusiastic shouts of “Zaroor” (“Certainly”) filled the air, reflecting a shared hope for a better future. His words were not just promises; they were a vision that the people embraced wholeheartedly.
Later, I saw this vision take form in other ways. Sheikh Abdullah initiated a campaign to rebuild the revered Hazratbal Shrine in Srinagar. My parents, contributed Rs 300, a significant sum then. This door-to-door fund-raising drive was a powerful display of community solidarity, with people from all walks of life contributing to the cause. The reconstruction of the shrine was a monumental task that became a reality through his leadership and the collective will of the people.
Sheikh Abdullah’s dream of an AIIMS-like hospital also materialized with the establishment of the Sher-i-Kashmir Institute of Medical Sciences (SKIMS). I visited SKIMS in 1982 shortly after it was built and was struck by its pristine cleanliness and world-class facilities. Though the hospital has faced challenges and lost some of its initial luster over time, it remains a landmark of his legacy.
As a revenue officer, I came to appreciate his administrative impact firsthand. I studied historic legislation like the Big Landed Estates Abolition Act, also known as the Land to Tiller Act, which redistributed land and empowered countless farmers. His towering personality and commanding speeches were legendary. People’s faith in him was so absolute that a phrase emerged: “Ulla karey waggan karey,” meaning, “He is authorized to do it,” capturing the deep trust they placed in his decisions.
My personal connection with Sheikh Abdullah culminated on my wedding day, September 1, 1972. He was a guest at our ancestral home, Yarkand House in Mallarata, Srinagar. I remember him savoring the traditional Wazwan dishes, particularly the Dud Raas and the unique mix of green chili ketchup with walnuts. This image of him—not as a politician, but as a guest enjoying a meal with my family—is one I will always cherish.
Before I conclude, I must admit that while Sheikh Abdullah’s powerful personality could sway people to his will, he stands nowhere if compared to the most beloved leader of the past, Zain-ul-Abidin. The Sultan, revered as the “Great King” (Budshah), was a visionary leader of a greater Kashmir for all times to come, known for his wisdom, religious tolerance, and patronage of the arts and economy.
The writer is an author and former civil servant
