From the Bridges of Old City, I Found Jehlum Dying

By Mushtaq Hurra 

Last Sunday, I and my close friend visited Zaina Kadal, Aali Kadal, Kadi Kadal, Jamalta and other adjoining areas of old Srinagar city to procure a pair of pruning secateurs and hedge shears, as this area of the city is famous for indigenously made agrarian and gardening tools. We parked our vehicle near a big mosque, and went straight shopping. We approached almost a dozen smithies, and  bought the hedge shears very easily but couldn’t find a pair of pruning secateurs despite a deep hunt. One of the shopkeepers suggested we visit one said shop. We at once proceeded towards our destination with a hope to gain possession of the desired tool. But we were dejected and sad when a young salesman of the warehouse shook his head in denial. 

Though we failed to procure the secateurs, the fragrance of the old Srinagar city left us fascinated and hypnotized. The aroma of spices opened the unexplored corners of our brains. A youngman selling mutton barbecue adjacent to the guardrails of the historic Zaina kadal bridge, induced us to relish the piquant and appetizing barbeques. Blobs of molten butter would burn on the blazing embers of the brazier, to fill the surroundings with a tempting and spicy smell. Our urge to gulp the grilled mutton pieces instantly reached its climax. We asked the vendor to roast half a dozen skewers for us. The vendor put six metallic skewers on the brazier, and began to fan the embers with a strong piece of cardboard. My friend asked for some spicy chutney to solace his hungry taste buds. But, I was lost in the picturesque beauty of the river Jhelum.

Below the Zaina kadal bridge, I saw a group of young men angling with their sophisticated rods, and interestingly, it is still one of my favorite sources of amusement. When I peeped through the tough metallic balustrade, erected on the edges of the bridge to have a glimpse of the gushing waters, the sight of whirlpools beneath the bridge was looking quite petrifying. Surroundings of the river with alluringly magnificent buildings were testimonial  to the prosperity of its custodians. Tall minarets were enough to make a dense network of mosques evident to my eyes. Even a temple with typical architectural style was quite distinguishable from a good distance. Asar Azaan resonating from multiple loudspeakers scratched our devotional vibes. Artistic stonework done on the embankments of the river exhibited official care and concern for the safety of the river and the buildings erected on and around its banks. My admiration for local people and administration of the city grew in abundance.

Meanwhile, the vendor placed the simmering barbeque skewers before me. I took a skewer and began to draw the crispy mutton pieces stacked tightly together. Dipping the hot pieces in cold chutney of coriander and curd, would add new volumes of flavour to these barbecues. Though my taste buds had been relishing the legacy of the old city, my eyes were struck on an ugly blot which was enough to irritate and exasperate me. My appreciation and respect for the locals of the area began to abruptly evaporate. A sense of retribution and revenge for the local people, obsessed with my nerves. I was appalled and enraged. 

I was shocked and disappointed to see that all the human excreta from the surroundings was thrown into the bosom of the river. Dense network of pipes, leading into the center of the river, was enough to mar my little joy and admiration that I had experienced a while ago. Black stinky sewerage was blemishing the Adam’s ale. My friend asked me to empty the skewers as the sun had begun to spread its yellowish red hue over the horizon. A couple of locals were basking on the bridge rails. I at once approached them, and narrated the ordeal of the jugular vein (River Jhelum ) of my land to them. They bowed their heads down in shame and obloquy. They had no answers to my queries, which might have pierced their hearts like poisonous arrows. 

My monologue attracted a good crowd, when I lamented the plight of the Veath, and shot volleys of curses on the enemies of Vitasta:

“It is not only human excreta which greets the mornings and the evenings of the river but also respected butchers of the area maim the river with the stinky offal and trash in the wee hours of mornings. 

O my Jhelum! How long shall you nourish a buffoonish and selfish nation that vandalises and scars you in the broad daylight. Let them know that their own brethren down the line, have no access to tap water from Alstaing and Doodhgangah water supply schemes, except the water of the Veath, which they have turned as poisonous as Hemlock. Let someone tell these braying donkeys that we consume the water of the Veath without any filtration and processing. Who will tell these obliviously egomaniacal masses that we consider the water of the river, as the only nectar and the antidote known to us. Alas! Our children are caught up in deadly diseases of hepatits. Your callousness and insensitivity has subject us to lethal and murderous ailments. Are you really the vicegerents of Allah SWT? Have you really been to Universities and colleges? I wonder if your magnificent mosques do any good to you. Your prayer and charity are an act of boasting and bragging. Your degrees and diplomas haven’t brightened up your conscience. You are moving statues of pride and showoff. Compassion and empathy are none of your stations. Heavenly deluge is in store for you lest you mend your ways.”

My words moved their hearts, a sense of guilt was obviously visible in their eyes but they couldn’t even reassure me with promises of action because they have reached the state of Summum, Bukmun, Umyun (Deaf, Dumb, Blind). Official apathy has worsened the situation. If this is preservation and conservation of the Veath, then keep it in your pockets. 

I appeal to the LG administration of J&K to take concrete steps to save the river qualitatively and quantitatively for the continuation of life in the valley because Vitasta is the only major source of irrigation and drinking water for most of the valley populace. Any further complacency can lead to catastrophic consequences. Custodians of the river should ignite their civic sense to save Jhelum from further damage and destruction. 

Views expressed in the article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the editorial stance of Kashmir Observer

• The author is an Academician and a Columnist. He can be reached at [email protected]

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