volo ha baaghvaano…….

From time to time many non Kashmiri’s have used these couplets to try to create a connection with natives, even Mr Atal Bihari Vajpai opened his speech when he was visiting Kashmir as the then PM of India. the song that they choose, has a very great significance in Kashmiri history. you can this song is a freedom song, calling on the people and their leaders to rise and fight . fight to make our homeland a better place to live . this song as relevant to today’s scenario as it was when it was written almost 70 years back. here i am putting in front of the translation of this Kashmiri song so that u can understand it and understand ……..

Arise, O Gardener!
(volo ha baaghvaano……. )

Arise, O Gardener! And usher in the glory of a new spring.
Create conditions for ‘bulbuls’ (a type of bird) to
Hover over full-blown roses.

Dew bemoans the garden’s desolation.
Harassed roses have torn their garments.
Infuse New life into flowers and ‘bulbuls’.

Root out the stringing nettle from The garden; it will harm flowers.
Wave after wave of hyacinths are coming, let them laugh.

Total immersion in the love of the motherland behooves man.
If you create this faith, surely you shall attain your goal.

Who will free you, O ‘bulbul’, While you bewail in the cage?
With your hands, work out your own salvation.

Power and pelf, bounties and royal grandeur are all
Within your reach reach and grasp.
You have only to identify them.

In the garden many birds sing but their notes are varied.
May God harmonize these into one effective melody.

If you must awaken this rosy habitat, give up the harp.
Bring about earthquakes and thunder, raise a tempest.

Kashmiris’ fame will again spread in the world if you
Create luminaries like Tazi Bhat, Lalitaditya and Mubarak Khan.

Official writs will again run at your will in case you
Produce a peer of Zia Bhan in this modern age.

Litterateurs of Iran will bow to you in reverence if you
Create a poet with powers of magical narration like Ghani.

O Mahjoor! You created roses in the field of poetry.
Now make a wailing ‘bulbul’ too in this colourful garden.

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My trip to home …. :)

The word “HOME” is very special to everybody. the mere mention of this word changes the whole environment, so many nostalgic moments start to dance in front of your eyes and a strange smile comes to your face whether you wish it or not. HOME what a word and what a place to be at. When I started my journey towards my home my homeland, I didn’t feel any of such feelings; why , I don’t know.

On my flight I met couple of interesting people, some where returning to Kashmir after a long interval, some where visiting it for the first time and me just visiting not knowing when will I visit again. When my flight landed and I came out of the airport , I couldn’t find any bus which was supposed to be there so that I could reach the city, so waited for somebody to give me a lift after couple of cars passed one finally stopped, the person was very nice and kind he asked me, ” where do you want me to drop you” this was very surprising for him to ask me. He dropped me very near to the place where from I could get a cab for home. The cab I took for home had an old fellow as driver , white hair, sharp eyes behind large round glasses, unshaved face. He threw my bag on the top of the cab , I said please make sure that the bag doesn’t fall while driving . Then I wondered why am I worried about the bag how fast can this spent currency go , as the journey progressed my assumption regarding the old fellow was proved completely wrong . He zipped past every car ahead of him and on every turn I was trying to locate my bag on top of the car. I really doubted that when I reach I will find my bag on top of the car. He didn’t even stop when a security person signaled him to stop, the security person seeing old man on drivers seat couldn’t do anything but smile. Some young blood tried to match the old mans speed but failed and I could only see them smiling from behind. He made to remind of a cartoon character , which one I don’t clearly remember ..

On reaching home another surprise was waiting for me. I met mom on the door of our house itself. then when I entered I searched for my younger brother , he was in his room pretending to be sleeping and not having any idea of me being there. When finally he got up , I had to tilt my head to meet his eye, he turned out to have grown taller than me !….. :0 ,.then I had my lunch with home cooked fish, had almost forgotten how it tasted as was tasting it after almost 3 years. As I was having lunch my little brother searched my bag for his jerseys , which he had literally ordered for me to bring. After finishing lunch spent some time at home then visited my cousins. The way I was greeted was another surprise for me … they said ” u look like a malnourished kid from Darfur”, my God !they could have used a softer way to say the same thing. Hope when I start my journey back to Mumbai I am in a better shape …. 🙂