Z.G.MUHAMMAD
Silence reigned in our mohalla during day time also. It was cluttering of wheels of tumbrels being pushed by sweating half- famished labourers singing some folk songs that occasionally pierced the quiet. Or it was the honk of an old Mercedes car owned by a family in the neighbourhood that made graceful swallows to fly higher. Or it were few tongas owned by some well-to-do shawl merchants once or twice a day passed through main road of our locality. It had not always been a desolate street. There were stories that once upon a time it was the busiest market place of ‘Mulk-i-Kashmir. It along with other mohallas around Jamia Masjid attracted traders from far off Central Asian states and other neighbouring countries. It was the main city market that brought in vendees from all over the valley. The market retained its importance till the Dogra rulers developed alternative markets near the first bridge and between third and fourth bridge on the River Jhelum and named them after the scions of the family, Sri Ranbir Gunj and Hari Singh High Street. It was not end of the story. The elders would often talk of the politics behind shifting of the traditional market place owned by the aborigines. Shifting of market established by the Sultans to new locations was ill- intended, the feudal rulers had brought in many any traders from neighbouring state of Punjab for these markets and the most of the business was taken over by this community.
Years before my birth my mohalla and other adjacent mohallas of the locality had lost their commercial importance but even then some of the mohallas in our locality retained their importance. One mohalla was famous for some Unani medicos (hakeems). Patients from distant villages would be seen in the wee hours queuing outside their clinics. Some mohallas retained their importance for weaving the best Kashmiri woolen, silken and coarse cloth. There were many mohallas around historic Rozabal Shrine that hummed with shuttling of the looms even in our childhood. Best ropes and best woollen rugs were produced in and around the foothills of the Koh-i-Maran. Our mohalla had its distinction of being known for three shops of knife grinders (khargar).
I don’t know if the people engaged in this profession had arrived in Kashmir along with the caravans of missionaries, scholars, preachers, craftsmen and skilled workers from Afghanistan and the Central Asia. Or they were part of the Mughal cantonment meant for sharpening of swords or they were aborigines who had learnt the art of making these grinding machines from the Chinese travellers.
The knife grinding machine was a massive round sand plate on an axis fixed to two small poles and it was set into motion by pulling strong rubber belts around. There was a family of knife grinders in our neighbourhood. Every Sunday they got busy in making the round sand plates for their knife grinding machine. The process of making the sand plate was cumbersome. It needed great expertise-white turbaned, immaculately dressed knife grinder Ramzan Joo was known for his ability of making the sand plates.
Some red granules mixed with water would be put into two big earthen cauldrons and heated to molten stage on temporarily made hearths. The molten material inside the cauldron would be continuously stirred by a glistening wooden pestle. The red paste would be then put on a sand spread and cut into round shape by a sharp knife. A square hole would be cut into the middle. Then sand would be spread over the other side also. The plate would be allowed to cool for some time. Then a wooden axis would be passed through the round plate and it would be fixed on two temporarily fixed poles. The surface of the edged would be evened by two hot tongs. After making of one plate another plate work making another would start. The successful completion of the task used to be moment of joy and it was celebrated by drinking salt tea with krip. Then on Monday it would be fixed in the workplace.
Much before the knife grinder opened his shop; I would often see butchers with different size choppers, chefs with their knives, woodcutters with their axes and chicken sellers with their knives waiting outside his shop. There were perhaps very few shops of the knife grinders in the city.
Like many other professionals the aborigine knife grinders with their traditional machines have vanished from the scene yielding place to peddle machine knife grinders from outside the state.
Z.G.Muhammad is a noted writer and columnist
