To me Kashmir means beauty, nature’s bounty. And of course its wounded agony. Not explicitly stated but softly whispered

Kashmir valley lives on tourism, and to limited extent agriculture. Fortunately, given the special status of Kashmir, no Multinational Corporation or local monopoly business of typical Indian variety has penetrated into the valley and molested the landscape. The rururban environment of Kashmir is a clear proof that virginity of its soil has been kept in tact. This does not imply that Government can remain indifferent to the growing demands for infrastructure. The very topography of land – the enchanting mountainous region and continual landslide carried out by heavy rain at discrete times, necessitate that there’s an imperative need for Government to repair the hairpin bends, the shapely curves on the mountain.

For safety and security of tourists, inclusive of local population strengthening of infrastructure is a must. Although, repair works are going on in different places I could see them in my later visit to Pegalgam valley and Atlab valley, developmental work is falling short of requirements. However, given the military expenditure (more guns), the lesser will be the development outlay (less butter). The familiar and much talked about Gun Butter economics is very much relevant in Kashmir. Unless the military occupation is reduced and more funds diverted to development without much leakages in the channel, it would be a Himalayan task to keep the Himalayan Mountains in good shape. Posterity will not forgive if both the Federal and the State governments show gross indifference to the developmental requirements and the social needs of the society.

A quick visit to the villages, which are closer to Srinagar main city, also showcased the same pathetic situation. All over the country, villages are treated like non- entities. We have to start from Kashmir to set things right. As India mostly lives in villages, the fundamental needs of the rural folk namely, drinking water, electricity, health care, connecting roads and so on, cannot be allowed to remain in a state of disarray. The entry point at Gulmarg was more muddy and dirty as was the case while visiting Taj Mahal nearly ten years ago. I am not able to understand why the authorities are not even bothered to keep these highly reputed tourist destination in a more hygienic condition without bothering about the bad name that Mother India will get in international market place.

Journey to Gulmarg was much delayed and the trip was just pleasing. When I stepped into that mountain slope I felt as if I was sitting on the lap of my young mother, looking at her face, with all smiles and wrinkles of happiness radiating on her face. Kashmir could be compared only to a caring Mother, an embodiment of creative energy, abundant love and tremendous patience. At Srinagar before starting, there was mild rain in the morning. Then sun appeared and reassured us that everything was going to be fine. Indeed we must thank our stars that during day time, rain God did not trouble us at all. Lunch was skipped, and the lengthy serpentine queue, took us to the Rope Car only in the late afternoon and we were lucky to get into the second stage of elevator just in time. Otherwise we would have missed the chance of landing on a sunny snow mountain.
It was the pleasantest feeling to be at the top snowy layer of Himalayan Mountain and look at the clouds more closely and kiss mountain breeze with the entire body. Kashmir valley is more like a lovely and lively girl full of innocence, and also energetic intelligence. The ardent beauty of the region is to be admired, smelt, touched and felt. You must have all the eager imagination and child’s fantasy, a poetic mind to get soaked in that beauty and just remain there alone in a crowd, thanking the creator for having taken you to that great height.

It was my sheer misfortune that I was unwilling or unable to do ice skating. But for a short distance, I just slided down on the snow like little kids play game in a national park and feeling thrilled while falling down. There were many young mothers with infants. They all could withstand that pleasant weather. Army camp on the mountain top could be noticed. I was just wondering how these personnel and also those soldiers safeguarding our national borders elsewhere in the entire Himalayan region would spent the time and what kind of thought they would think being alone with the task in their hands. Going to Kashmir valley and admiring those shapely curves is different from staying on the snowy mountain and eating tinned food away from family and friends. The quantum of sacrifice they make to make our life safe and comfortable cannot be just expressed in words. They deserve all our love because they may be having their own craving for love and affection from all corners of the world although the Mother Nature is meticulously taking care of them. Abundant sunshine, made us enjoy the beautiful landscape enveloping the mountain which was really a bonus. In the late afternoon everything changed suddenly and it became very dark.

Everywhere, we were surrounded and chained by mountains and the gentle or violent stream of water loudly attempting to say something about its joy and agony. Oxygen was fresh, but was it adequate for everyone? There were many reaching the top by either walking or riding on horse. There were foreign tourists, taking documentaries, with camera positioned on the slope. Horses were simply obeying the master, without much grumbling. Oh beauty!! What is your price? A popular song rolled into my mind.

On pleasant smells and sounds and shapely curves of Kashmir Valley

Travel from airport towards Dal Lake side made me remember the days I spent in Pune in the early 80’s when I was UGC’s Teacher fellow doing Ph.D. in Gokhale Institute, Pune, the Academic city of India. Kashmir looks like a typical village unspoiled or urban capitalistic civilization. The serenity and virginity of this valley was just bemusing and blindfolding. While remaining in the lap of Himalayas for six days, I felt sad that the roads leading to different tourist destinations were not that good although they were not bad. I do fully understand given the topography of the mountainous region and the resultant landslide due to heavy rains and melting of snow, it is not that easy for any responsible government to-do the maintenance on an yearly basis and yet Kashmir being the jewel of India cannot be allowed to accumulate dust. The entire Kashmir region looks like a lovely village, a typical under-developed village, something like a rururban area.

In a span of six days stay at Srinagar we stayed for four nights in the boat house and that was the most precious moment in my life. We felt very chill during night; as if we were experiencing typical winter. We were extremely lucky that sun did really show his full real face on all those days excepting when there was some rain in evening.

Dal Lake is a vast expanse of water and it is a world of its own. One day we went around the lake enjoying its infinite colour and its shopping complexes floating on the lake. There was also a separate world of vegetation beneath performing some purifying act to keep the water clean. Again, I should mention hear that in many places there were many machines at work draining the accumulated debris from the lake.

On the very first day when I landed, I didn’t fall into any kind of love with this region or for that matter at lake. Definitely, it was not a love at first sight but as the days passed and moved around the valley extending the stay in the boat house, the love affair of Kashmir intensify and god the necessary stream for a sustained sentimental relationship with a entire region for many years to come.

As an adolescent boy starts liking a girl of his choice by seeing her again and again and get intoxicated eventually with her infinite variety of colour and texture, fun and adventure and of course her shapely curves and pleasant smells and sounds of the body, the old man at 60+, the black man from South having a youthful heart and romantic fantasy stemming from his discipline which of course is not literature, became madly infatuated with the Dal Lake and other valleys that he visited in subsequent days. Our boat house was positioned in a pleasant ambience overlooking the mountain carpeted with tall green trees and the top layer of the mountain was covered with snow glittering in the sun like silver. I do not find words to describe its beauty. Dal Lake was virtually savored and relished in the early morning, during sunshine, while black clouds were encircling the green mountains and also at midnight.

This summer is something special for Kashmir, I was told by the boatmen. For nearly two months before our arrival there, it had rained very heavily and at one stage, the region was threatened with flood signal. Never in the history of Kashmir in the last 36 years, this kind of change of season during summer, experiencing abundant rain had occurred. To me it appears as if all over the world the seasons and climate might undergo a see-saw change under the impact of global warming and the melting of the snow in the years to come.

Kashmir two will have its own peculiar and erratic climate, defying the season and upsetting the apple cart of daily life of poor people who are dependent upon tourist. Is nature playing like a truant God in doing more mischief as the authorities here and elsewhere are indifferent and negligent in the duties in protecting the environment. Shall we start from Kashmir valley one of the trouble regions in the sub-continent crying for peaceful existence from terror both from militants and states. It is time all the stakeholders in the Kashmir valley, the lively and the lovely Kashmir valley handled the region in a more respectable and affectionate manner befitting of its special and differential status, not in the political sense but in the environmental and economic sense, because, it is the heavenly kingdom of God.

Let us enjoy being a Leader than a Boss-Kindly remember, all of us are Leaders in our own ways.

Do you want to be a Leader in all walks of your life and render some common good to fellow human, inclusive of your family members, relatives and friends? Or Boss over the rest and inflict tremendous stress in order that you will be singled out as a major villain of the piece in the drama of life, keen to bulldoze the finer sensibilities of those who encounter in your life. In my life, I have seen both leaders and bosses. In my late academic life when I got position, I could behave like a Leader and not like a boss. Sometimes my accommodative and friendly attitude and the gentlemanly polite behavior were also exploited by others. But with a stoic smile I have not abandoned my core personality and with little politics (read nil politics), I have managed many politicized individuals having unfriendly and unaccomodative nature. It is like practicing free trade even while others are adapting a protective stance, particularly in an environment of recession. Now, some extract from my dateless diary.

The Boss drives his men
The Leader inspires them
The Boss depends upon authority
The Leader depends upon good will
The Boss evokes fear
The Leader radiates love
The Boss says ‘I’
The Leader says ‘we’
The Boss says ‘who is wrong ?’
The Leader says ‘what is wrong ?’
The Boss knows how it is done
The Leader knows how to do it
The Boss demands respect
The Leader commands respect
So be a Leader
Not a Boss

(This is a poster on a wall if Government office at Harare)

Let us start from Kashmir-Part Four

I imagined myself as Kashmiri and posed a few questions to myself

The aircraft landed at Srinagar without much problem. Weather was not chill. The pleasant sensation I experienced while landing could be compared to the one that I felt when I landed at Paris airport last year. I know I was entering into a different plane, a different soil, a different climate, all shaped by a peculiar history and politics. Our student was waiting outside the airport .Soon we found ourselves in a taxi. The afternoon was marching slowly towards evening .Here I was told that the Sun was setting and taking rest around 7.30pm only. I was beginning to feel the cool breeze of Kashmir when the taxi was on its long way towards Dal Lake. That brief travel also made me to be reminiscent of the old Pune town, its dilapidated buildings and narrow roads of 1980. At key vulnerable points I saw security personnel standing. I know given the militants problems in the past few decades, this military occupation may have its own reasons. But somehow it made me uneasy. I imagined myself as a Kashmiri and posed the following few questions to my self, while traveling.

Why the hell they are standing for long? What do they actually do? What will they think about us? Are they married? Will they also suffer like us, thinking about their wife and children? When will they sit and rest? Are they really happy with machine gun in their hands? Will they really know what kind of revolt that their machine guns in their hands would trigger in the minds of general public like me? How could a civilian population, normally engaged in their trade or business or farm activities be under constant vigilance? When will this kind of mild or wild military presence /occupation end for the peace and stability of the region? Will there be relative political peace along with economic prosperity for the majority of the poor in this valley? Do we really have a full fledged civilian government, routed firmly in the tradition and culture of the people? Are they,(meaning State Govt) doing any tangible economic good to the masses? Does Delhi government’s Employment Guarantee Programme work here? As there are so many tribals, is there any special programme for them? I could not help myself from asking these simple questions to myself. They are as much relevant for other regions too, but they have a greater relevance and significance for the alienated Kashmir; unless some honest homework is done and majority of the ordinary people are made to feel economically strong, India as foreign concept will continue to haunt them as ghosts.

Let us start from Kashmir-Part three

Prolonged alienation will be suicidal for both
After Mangalore Plane crash on the run way, every time a plane takes off and lands and sometimes wobbles in the mid air due to wind turbulence, there is always an inexplicable uneasiness, fear and anxiety for passengers. I too shared this fright as an ordinary human.I am sure both the crew and the passengers would soon get rid of this fear factor as the time acts as a healing agent.

When I sat in the plane at Chennai airport, I did not have any great expectation; or any kind of set image about Kashmir. As I don’t have much knowledge about its political history and its economic dimensions, I just flew without much dreams, ambitions or inhibitions. But after reaching there and feeling and smelling the cool wind of Himalayas and getting enchanted by the pleasantest touch of the Mother Nature there, I began worrying about the discomfort of the region being weighed down by politics and military monitoring, albeit in a modest way, for the fear of militant’s attack or disturbances.

Our connecting flight to Srinagar was delayed for many hours. The Indian Airlines, enjoying the captive market of Government employees, was an embodiment of inaction. It was just true; there was no one to respond to our queries. This gross indifference on the part of Indian Airlines was just irritating. There was no mention about our flight number at all at the display board. At quick intervals one or two flights towards Srinagar were taking off. Having lost all my patience and the level of endurance, once I located a middle aged lady officer, I was about to give vent to my feelings and blast her left and right. But alas, when I picked up the conversation, I was pleasantly shocked by her kindly gestures and words. “Sir, the flight is getting ready. In a few minutes we will announce the gate number. We are sorry for the inconvenience caused,” She replied. There are still a few souls, which are saving white elephants from being tarnished.

Thanks to the bungling of the travel agent and his attempt to book the ticket at the last minute, all of us found ourselves berthed in the business class. Later I was told that he paid only economy class fare and we were accommodated there. I don’t know how far that story would be true. My neighbor was sitting with a small kid, a cute boy. All through the journey the boy took only water and nothing else. My neighbor was a business man of all shades and color and traveled more frequently. Since he is also a contractor I could get some empirical proof about the quantum of corruption ruling there like other regions.Late Rajiv Gandhi was very much worried about rampant corruption in Bombay congress meet long ago. At that time the young leader was very much concerned that very little indeed reached the common man from the Government expenditure.This hydra headed monster has assumed a Himalayan proportion now. A casual chat with him made me realize that how Kashmiris, having their own distinct personality and life style are getting themselves alienated from the mainland .I put it differently to him that India has not made any sincere or serious attempt not only to assimilate and absorb the Kashmiri population but also the North eastern states into the mainstream politics and economics. I will come back to this question later.

Like a small kid , taking only water and not touching anything else, treating them as foreign, Kashmir too doesn’t want to have much truck with the mainland. I could smell and feel that in the next one week. Please note, this feeling of alienation was very subtle, gentle and fully explicit; but I must hasten to add that almost all the Kashmiris I met were very polite, polished and refined in their behavior. For this prolonged alienation, who is to be blamed? I don’t know. But one thing is clear to me that the both sides must do a honest soul searching and try to develop deep bonds, avoiding the trust deficit among themselves in order that like a typical traditional Hindu marriage the political union would survive and sustain itself on a stronger foundation with mutual give and take. But it is easier said than done because the crucial economics has not gone deep into the soil of Kashmir and dirty and destructive politics has virtually molested that rich soil. Kashmiris are neither poor nor rich.Mnay tribals are in a pathetic state, struggling with subsistence living and dependent on horse, grass and forest food and of course on the arrival of tourists. Being poor and ill clothed they fight among themselves for survival. I will come to that aspect later; it is really a Darwin’s world for the survival of the fittest.

Let us start from Kashmir –Part Two

‘Life begins at Sixty’: very much true in my life

The famous statement that ‘life begins at sixty’ has become very much true in my life. After my first overseas Paris trip, followed by a package tour to Dubai ,Abudhabi and Srilanka last year, I was lucky to undertake my first LTC trip to the Kashmir Valley, the lovely paradise on Earth, in the last four decades of my energetic academic life.

Today I was pleasantly surprised by my B.P reading showing exactly 120/80 .I must share with the readers that on the eve of Kashmir trip, one day by sheer accident I had an opportunity and compulsion to take the B.P reading both during morning and later in the evening. To my great surprise, this ideal figure appeared then also. I know that this is not my normal reading but I must hasten to add that despite my regularly irregular nature of taking B.P tablets and also not adhering to any worthwhile discipline in diet and exercise, the Supreme has been taking care of me with motherly care and father’s compassion.

This does not mean that I shall continue to remain indifferent to my health and diet; the benign reading gives me an optimistic hope that I will have my own time, albeit limited in the marginal sense to read more beyond economics and get some comfort that there is life even after sixty. Indeed without undermining what I have done in the last forty years I only know that I am yet to start my productive academic life.

Today morning while purchasing groceries at a nearby Chettiar shop, one old student of P.G centre in the early 90’s surprised and shocked me by saying that they cannot forget the three stars of the department namely, D.D, D.M, and D.S. What else one needs in this life- the most insipid life of shallow economic globalization than to get a real tribute from old students borne out of love towards that segment of teaching community practicing work ethics.

I may not have built huge fortunes, given my naivety in not managing my finance nor rendered a minimum justice to my family’s happiness and peace, but there is a feeling of fulfillment and contentment that life at sixty is worth savoring by looking at the past, the distant past which will never come back in concrete real time, but again and again would resurface in the shades of the molecules of the brain.

I know, the time has come to streamline my entire academic, domestic and financial life in the real sense of the term and the Supreme has already sent the key ambassadors and messengers to sort out all the outstanding issues. Now I need not look back, but only to look forward with quiet confidence and heightened optimism about many academic things to be accomplished.Furthurmore some minimum stretching, some nutritious food, deep sleep and even irregular walking schedule can help my physical system to function with less wear and tear.

When I began ‘life begins at sixty’, it was not meant to contemplate what all I have written, but only to marvel at the destiny, the wise and benevolent destiny which took me to Kashmir Valley just like that, in order that I will be soaked in enjoyable chill breeze, sunshine, mild drizzles, including the unadulterated love of the village folk.I am not able to believe all these. It has just happened. Kashmir has been always projected as a troubled political zone. Movies have vastly exaggerated their inner tensions of the region without really going into the fundamental problems that confront them. I will write more about Kashmir trip which was made possible by the initiative of my colleague in the campus,which was ably assisted furthur by our student community-the social capital that we have built-up.

Let us start from Kashmir – Part one

Kashmir, Beautiful Kashmir.

After spending nearly a week in Kashmir valley I landed at Chennai Airport around 8 P.M yesterday and reached home before midnight. Daughters and grand children were wide awake to say hello. Indeed it was refreshing to breath the hot air once again, the discomfort of torrid zone, after staying cool for a week.Fortunately it was not that hot as it had rained here .

This was my maiden visit to politically troubled and tormented region of the extreme north India .During my brief and bright stay there, I did not notice any trace of political turmoil excepting that frustratingly irritating military presence,CRPF personnel standing at key vulnerable points in large numbers. As Prime Minister was supposed to visit today, Pandobust arrangements were tight yesterday. While I was stepping down from the boat at Dal Lake, I could see the police vans, pouring out Jawans with all guns. Even the neat roads were swept for the Prime Minister to inhale fresh air although he would be traveling in a bullet proof A/C car. We were told that the tourists will have hell of trouble today in view of the Prime Minister’s visit. I was just wondering what would happen to the livelihood of many boatmen and other inhabitants surrounding the Dal Lake .

Travel from Dal Lake boat house by taxi to Srinagar airport, was halted at many points by security personnel for the security check. “Was it a routine affair or something to do with Dr.Singh visit next day?” I asked my students who were accompanying our tour party, all through the week. “It was normally the case sir, while moving towards Airport” they replied.

It was highly irritating to be stopped at different points by policemen who could neither understand Pondicherry University nor the title Professor. By sheer helplessness they would blink and allow us. On the mid way, the taxi was checked and the driver was asked for his papers. He stopped and showed all the papers they asked for. When he came back to the seat, I asked the driver, “Were you asked to pay any amount?” “No”, he said. I was relieved. The previous day , on our way to Pehalgam, the driver had to shell out a single note of hundred rupees, for not wearing proper uniform. Next to Bihar, it is said that Kashmir is the most corrupt state and I could see the traces of that in a modest way when the policemen were doing the routine job of checking the papers.

Kashmir, beautiful Kashmir is a lovely song in Tamil. I had heard when I was a college student. To see that lovely place at the ripe old age of sixty was indeed a fortune . I was lucky and also a privileged person to spend a few days in Kashmir valley, sit on her lap, walk on the snow capped mountain, talk to tribals in body language and drench myself in the fresh oxygen and also the unadulterated love of village folk .

One day at 11 Pm in the night with chill breeze I came out of the boat house, stood in the verandah and watched the Dal Lake, brisling with glittering lights with all love and quiet .I told myself , “God does live there.” While Kerela is called God’s own country, Kasmir valley is just the ‘Heavenly Kingdom of God’ and no matter, however the genuine Kashmiris resist being part of India , the latter cannot abandon it because Kashmir is so lovely and beautiful and no nation shall give this as a gift to others. But here others are not others but the real natives who have their problems with both Pakistan and India. I don’t have much information about the fundamental causes for the continuing friction between the people of Kashmir and the federal government. I will read more in future. Whatever may the issues involved , one thing is sure enough that not only Kashmir but many other north eastern states cannot be allowed to be alienated from the mainstream India . Here, I will assertively say that Economics and Economic development have not penetrated into these unfortunate regions. While documenting my emotional infatuation with Kashmir valley I will also write about the wounded agony of this beautiful Kashmir.