By Z.G.Muhammad
Looking back, I often see my life like a chessboard divided between whites and blacks. It had its darker and brighter sides. Many a time, whenever, I remember olden days- the days of my boyhood, the days of terrifying simplicity, joys, smiles and anger, I get convinced that we are a great people who over centuries have learned to live through sufferings and derive ecstatic moments out of the agonies.
Our pain, and agonies of our fathers and forefathers have over centuries found their expression in the devotional poetry, naats, mankabats and mystic experiences and the ecstasies have echoed through our love lyrics and amorous epics. Having tumbled into the world at tumultuous period of our history. Toddled during most bizarre days. Walked on the streets when louts, goons and hoodlums ruled the roost and people suffered idiosyncrasies and oppression of the neo-fascists, I have seen natives braving despondency by taking retreat to small time pleasures like taking long puffs of smoke from Hubble-bubble and showering invectives against authorities or composing impromptu hazal against the rulers in the tradition of the nineteenth century sarcastic epic Bebujnama written by Hameedullah Shahabadi. To quote Dr, Abdul Ahad, this epic ‘against bebuj Raj of 1819 exposes the unforgettable savagery and Muslim bashing of the Sikh Rule from 1819-1846’.
In city of Srinagar not only the aristocracy and the elite but the whole tribe of working class; craftsmen, artisans, dairy owners, vegetable growers, bakers and small time vendors over hundreds of years had learned to snatch moments of pleasure out of agonizing situations during springs, summers and autumns by going on the family excursions.
Of these family excursions the most popular was “Dal Waasun”- a three day or week-long rendezvous to the Dal Lake in Dungas. This six feet wide and forty to sixty feet long humble boat made of deodar had different compartments, with every compartment having a musical name. I don’t know why names of these compartments that were different from traditional names of our houses sounded romantic to me. The entrance of this boat was Num and this led to a small hall ‘Bushqaan. The Bushqaan was followed one after the other by two rooms, the first one named as Galaw’ and the second called as ‘Mahtaeb. And on the extreme of the boat there used to be kitchen it was named as Khouth.
Most of the families in our part of the city traditionally used to go on an excursion once or twice a year and some of the affluent families would make more trips to the lake. Dunga has been a part of Kashmir’s cultural landscape for centuries but when did the tradition of “Dal Wasun” become popular with common people l cannot say with authority but the chronicles suggest that Sultan Zain-ul-Abidin popularized boat rides on moonlit nights in, Dal and Wular lakes. This tradition became more popular with the Mughal emperors, queens and princes who often visited Kashmir during summers.
The tradition of three days or week-long excursion on the Dal Lake perhaps had gained popularity with common people during the nineteenth century. And during our childhood it was popular both with the aristocracy and common folks. Traditionally our family almost every year would go for an excursion in a Dunga on two occasions, one Urs-Nabi and second on Mehraj-allam and someone families in our locality would go on voyage to partake in Qamar Sahib’s Mela, festival of a local saint.
The day decision was taken on going for a three day sojourn was a hilarious day for all children in the family. The date was mostly decided by my uncle in consultation with all women at home. No moment the date would be decided preparation for going on the voyage began. lt started with the selecting of the Dunga and fixing terms and conditions with the boatman. I remember often we travelled in the Dunga of Mala Subhan, brawny turbaned man whose boat mostly remained anchored under the canopy of willows on the banks of the blue lagoon of Braranambal near ‘Salam- Peeran-Yarabal’.
Traditionally our odyssey to the Dal Lake started on Thursday evenings. After evening prayers we would embark on the Dunga, but the thrill would start a bit earlier.
Z.G.Muhammad is a noted writer and columnist
