My Tryst With Chestnut Trees

By Peer Mohammad Amir Qureshi

In the sanctuary of my abode, cocooned beneath a cozy blanket with the gentle embrace of a room heater, I delved into the pages of a book. Suddenly, the symphony of solitude was interrupted by the melodious hum of my phone. Retrieving it from my pocket, I discovered a call from my dear friend Adil Rehman, beckoning me to join him with a swift promise, I ventured towards an orchard where we used to meet.As I approached the designated meeting point, a captivating scene unfolded before me—a cluster of exuberant children besieging a majestic chestnut tree. The chestnuts are the deciduous trees of the genus Castanea.They fervently pelted pebbles at the treasure-laden branches, where the “Punjab Gaer,” or chestnuts, hung. Encased within prickly husks, these chestnuts were delicately gathered by some children, each cradling nature’s bounty in their laps. Witnessing this  nostalgic tableau, memories of my own youthful escapades flooded back.I Reminisced about the two chestnut trees that graced my village, a rarity in the precincts of district Ganderbal.The lore persisted that these venerable chestnut trees were planted by Haji Ghulam rasool of Habbakadal srinagar,  a legacy enduring for at least seven decades. As per the wisdom passed down by the elders of my native village, there was a time when a playground graced the landscape, a gathering place for children from the surrounding area. In those early days, the roots of the two chestnut trees were planted. However, the passage of time ushered in change, transforming the terrain into an orchard adorned with apple and various plum trees. Eventually, the orchard changed hands, finding a new proprietor in Nowshera Srinagar. The custodianship of the garden transitioned to the capable hands of the “Gujjars,” who not only tended to their cattle but also nurtured the flourishing orchard.

These twin chestnut arbors grace the roadside, standing as silent sentinels. Interestingly, the custodians of the adjacent orchard never voiced objections to the seasonal tradition of gathering the coveted chestnuts, fondly known as “Punjab Gaer.” In my personal contemplation, these chestnut trees were nothing short of a benevolent offering to the entire village. As autumn unfolded its vibrant hues and the chill of winter lingered, the bountiful fruits adorned the branches, drawing children like magnets. This communal treasure was freely accessible, existing within the public domain, devoid of any prohibitions imposed by the orchard’s watchful guardians.

The recollection remains vivid – with Gowhar by my side, we would frequent the orchard, eagerly assessing the ripening of chestnuts. Patiently awaiting the perfect moment, we watched as the trees transformed. However, one fateful year, our anticipation led to disappointment – the branches bore no fruit for us as they were plucked by other children of our village and we had to wait for one year.Usually it bore fruits during the departure of the “Bakerwals” to Jammu, leaving their dormant kitchens by the orchard, where they typically cooked on traditional  “Daanbur.”Undeterred, we ventured to open the chestnuts nestled in spiky husks, gathering straws to ignite the “Daanbur.” The crackling sound of chestnuts bursting into a flavorful blaze was a joyous symphony. Anyone traversing the road couldn’t resist joining our endeavor, captivated by the enchanting taste of chestnus. Little ones, especially, were fervent followers, drawn into the allure of those mesmerizing chestnuts.Regrettably, a few years ago, the guardian of that cherished shop axed the branches of those two chestnut trees. The intrusion of children, throwing pebbles, irked the new custodians. Today, the once abundant and delectable chestnuts have dwindled both in quality and quantity, a poignant reflection of changing times and the altered custodianship of that precious orchard.The shifting sands of time and the evolving nature of people serve as a stark reminder. There’s a looming apprehension that the hands of progress might fell those venerable trees in the future. Yet, the indelible memories woven with those trees persist, eternally fresh in our minds, akin to a conversation held just yesterday.May the yet unborn generation savor the essence of those chestnuts, cultivating a connection with the past that transcends the passage of time.

• The author is a Columnist. He tweets @peermohdamir

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