Cantos 1
On April 17, 1918 Pt. Sant Ram Dogra left the Dogra Maharaja Pratap Singh’s capital Srinagar after a long assignment. It had involved tiring travel around the heart and breath of the valley as the officer on special duty, appointed to codify the customs of Kashmir. Geo-politically this was the time between the Great Games, the rivalry between Britain and the Russian Empire and the World wars. Cantos 1 describes the beginning of Sant Ram’s journey that day:
“Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok,”
The galloping of the horse hooves on the winding hilly path,
Echo symphonically with the birds of Kashmir.
A twilight with its golden glare,
Caressing the valley I just bid adieu.
“One-two, One-two,”
I count the stars fading from the brightening scape,
Streaked by flocks of aspiring birds.
A Lonely smoke winds from the last home,
As my carriage leaves behind,
The town of turmoil,
Of an inner boil,
Left by the Moguls, Afghans and Sikhs.
Simmering over the placid waters of Jhelum,
Reflecting everything like a mirror, yet so opaque,
So fertile and yet so deceptive,
Cooking a broth of caste, clan, identity and inheritance,
Of revenue, land and customs parlance,
Of shrines, temples and their noble freelance.
O’valley beyond which lie the Great Game,
I bid you adieu.
The British camp in your comforts,
On the way to the frontiers.
The paranoia they feel for the Russians inching closer,
Many killed in Bukhara and the Karakoram heights,
Or in the ravines unforgiving and gorges tight.
Kashmir is delight for the spies and the agents,
The apples are ripe and the almonds lozenge.
The Dogras welcomed the British Settlement Commissions,
“Order, they’ll bring” to the clutter left by many warring antecedent,
There’ll bring order to our revenue affairs,
They are my bosses, my instructors, my brethren.
“Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok,”
The galloping of the horse hooves on the winding hilly path,
Tally with the thoughts of my mind,
They both leave behind prints,
On the long road that meanders the ancient town of Anantnag,
Overlooking Pirpanjal beyond which lie home and my wife, Jeeyan.
Of my scholarship the maharaja has hope,
He drew upon me duties for reforms and retilence,
Of codifying “Kashmir’s customs” into the power of a law,
For this judicial cause,
I was appointed on special duty,
The “Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok” hasn’t left me since then,
Traveled I have through the valley’s breadth,
through shikaras and shrines that line the Jhelum.
Cantos: 2
Cantos 2 describes the progress of Pt. Sant Ram Dogra’s journey as his horse carriage drove on that fateful day through the outskirts of Anantnag town in Kashmir valley. Dogra’s new born son was already nine months old but he had yet to see him. After the son’s birth he had rushed a messenger home asking his family to name him, Amir. In this canto he’s on his way home in Ballur (today’s billawar), a town named after Harihara or the Hindu gods, Hari (Vishnu) and Hara (Shiva).
The road at Anantnag winded long ahead,
Through rock cut roads along ravines deep,
Through the Banihal pass, through an earthed tunnel,
That allowed only the princely Dogra and the retinue,
The carriage would finally reach Ballur, my home,
In the land of Harihara.
And Jeeyan would be waiting,
With my infant son, Amir tucked to her bosom,
With my three sons and my daughter by her side,
And my people who stood last time on both sides of the way in the foothills,
With almonds, dates and copra in hand,
To thank me for the bandobast of their lands!
And of course my books in those teak wood almirahs,
That wait a pick and a glance,
They have all borne my long absence.
Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok
The galloping of the horse hooves on the winding hilly path,
creases the earth and brightens my garb,
Suddenly,
The coachman stops under a Chinar,
In a thick of a forest nearby,
He disappears for an hour.
The tired me looks into the mirror of a stream nearby,
Where ducks flock like button mushrooms, competing with magpies!
Off I went back in my carriage,
Fading into sleep that hung like a shide,
Until a sudden rattle woke me up,
And turned into a violent quake.
In an hour that turned friends into foes,
And pets into wolves in sheep hide,
I fell on the road
and the carriage turned atop my mortal dyme.
The Chinar stood silent,
As it has before and as it would do after,
While I moved into the afterlife.
Cantos 3:
Canto 3 describes a scene after the tragedy struck. Sant Ram’s eldest son, a teen, has taken a treacherous journey to pick up his father’s ashes after the Dogra king got him cremated in Srinagar. He had to pass through the tough Banihal pass where he collapsed under stress. This visualization is about Sant Ram in the afterlife talking about the sad turn of events after his eventful murder on April 17, 1918.
How lonely the tunnel stands cut at Banihal,
Its sharp rough edges threaten a teen never ever before on any path!
Who would have ever thought,
I would return home no more!
And my son, so fragile, would journey through a tough mountain pass,
I reached home only in four copper ware,
My pyre was lit by the Maharaja’s court
While my journey kept on lengthening,
Into time and space in search of a home.
Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok
The galloping of the horse hooves on the winding hilly path,
Are still heard in Anantnag,
Between the temple of Martand and the Harihara shrine of Balur,
The forests have turned into tales of woes,
Of guns and drugs being smuggled offshore,
My books are dust,
My vision unknown,
Instead of merit,
Much ado is about glum and rum sown!
Notes : Sant Ram Dogra, the first B.A.in contemporary education of Jammu and Kashmir was an Assistant Settlement Officer in the Settlement Commissions (Bandobast Commissions) working under Maharaja Pratap Singh. A gold medalist from Mohinder Singh College, Patiala and also a polyglot, most of his professional life, Sant Ram kept exhaustively traveling around Kashmir while maintaining a home in Bhaddu, Billawar.
He met an untimely death at the age of 41 years in the outskirts of Anantnag and until today the family doesn’t know who killed him. He’s poetess’ great grandfather and it’s only since two years that she has seriously researched into his work–unearthing his legacy and using his context to develop a unique understanding of the geography where “three empires met!”