Lal Ded Relives A Fantasy Of Ironies.

Lalded

Lal Ded Relives A Fantasy Of Ironies.

 

Six hundred and sixty six years ago was born an ascetic of profound spiritual order in a village Sempure, near Pampur.  She has been known in Kashmir by many names; such as Lalded, Lalleshwari or Lala Arifa. If the vale of Kashmir is endowed with a physical body, Lal Ded can rightly be described as its soul Looking from the heights of Cheshmashahi hills, I have been sighting her ethereal body moving with great speed through hills and dales, in brooks and gushing streams but in mental disarray and chanting her famous Vakh in enchanting voice.

 

"Shiv cchuy thals thali rozan

Mav zan Hyond ta Mussalman

Trukay chukh ta pananuy pan parzan

Soy cchay Sahiba satiy zani zan

 

Rendering Shiv is manifest in everything, why to discriminate between a Hindu and a Mussalman. It you are wise, realise yourself and that way you will know the Lord.

 

Kalhana, the famous poet historian of Kashmir, has made a passing reference of a Kashmiri sentence in Rajatarangini to convey that it had taken roots as a spoken language in the valley in early 10th century AD. However, it was left to Lal Ded to unravel the fountainhead of sweet Kashmiri language which she propounded in verse and vakhs with depth and clarity for the first time.

 

Lal Ded reverberates even today in the form of perennial springs of Cheshmashahi- Verinag which has given birth to our Veth-to holy Vitasta-in rich Kashmiri parlance, which over the years, has been nurtured by its tributaries and reached the present stage of maturity and grandeur. Legend has it that the springs at Cheshmashahi and Khonmoh have welled on the day Lal Ded was born

 

Lal Ded's spiritual eminence was so high that she understood the summum bonum of life. It may not appear unbelievable if I surmise that her spirit is sighted over the heights of the vale, weary and wailing as who else can get tormented over the spilling of blood of innocents in Reshwaer, the abode of rishis for acons. As to us, She is revered Lal Moj even today. Her birth in Kashmir was a venison for the beleaguered Kashmiris and it was this dear Moj who showed them the path of righteousness, purity of moral behaviour in human life. Her ethereal spirit wanders over the heights of Hari Parbat, dismayed over the shrinking of the Dal, watching at a distance the devotes offering prayers at Hazratbal shrine. Then on, her piercing gaze is focused on nearby Ishqbaaz, the abode of Shaivism which now is desolate because the pro pounder is no more and therefore no devotees to seek solace, discover and learn the wisdom of ancient Kashmir Lal Ded lost her composure when she learnt that a great Bakht in the person of Pandit Lachman Joo had to be cremated outside his blessed abode, where he worshipped for years the spirit of Kashmiriyat, the essentials of collective nativeness which took the shape of spiritual synthesis and which is now unfortunately misinterpreted. It looked like a daydream to discover unfathomable spirits wandering from one gushing stream to another; frowning over the waters that had lost its purity, taste because of pollution. The great lady was amazed to view the majestic chinars having been dwarfed and getting de-numbered. She went south-ward and mingled with the crowd visiting the famous ziarat of Zainashah Sahib on way to Pahalgam. In her ebullient and chaste dialect of south. Kashmir, she sought to know from an old woman the riddle of a Rajput namely Janak Singh from- Kishtwar, having sought spiritual bliss in the lap of mountains of Aishmuqam This blessed Rajput became synonymous with Zainashah Sahib as he found the eternal truth transcending the barriers of caste and creed Lal Ded, it seemed, went into trance and fell in communion with the great Rishi of Aishmuqam and sought compassion for the bewildered and misguided youth of the valley, "As you sow so shall you reap" came out from nowhere and the blessed spirit vanished in air And Lo and behold, the next moment our Lal Moj donning the dress of a handsome and homely Gojar belle with a typical head gear with countless plaits of hair woven in design and carrying a milk pot appeared before Lord Amarnath in the holy cave. It was a bewitching sight to see the Lord accepting the milk in His kamandal and excusing himself for a boon. However, Lord assured her that the sun would emerge from underneath the clouds and cleanse the bedeviled minds of the people of Kashmir.

 

Mingling with a few Pandits left in the valley, Lal Ded ventured to appear with a small group of yatris visiting the holiest of the holy shrines of Mata Kheer Bhawani in the form of a youthful Pandit lady. Customarily she purchased flowers, foliage vena, and milk from a Muslim boy vendor for offering at the shrine. There are only a few Pandits around here on Ashtami Lamenting, our revered Moj put a question to the boy who instantaneously replied that one Jaga (Mr Jag Mohan) was accredited as Governor of the State who drove out all the Hindus from valley. What a sustained propaganda unleashed by the unwise Kashmiri youth The boy added that no less a Muslim leader of ill repute called Abdullah profaned Pandits as fifth columnists in his autobiography Aatish-i-Chinar. "You do not want azadi, how can you stay back in the valley," further interposed the boy. With a wrenched bosom, Lal Ded enquired of a seemingly enlightened Muslim who looked priestly but sported a well trimmed beard as to what had happened to Kashmir. "My young good lady," countered the priest, "Pandits were too crafty, worked like asses in offices and cornered all State jobs. Should they return and dislodge us? That cannot happen" Bewildered, Lal Moj went with her offerings and pleaded for an explanation from Mother Ragnya, our holy deity at Tulamula (Kashmir) The Holy Mother recognizing Moj, embraced her and told her to pay her another visit next year when things shall be different Depressed, Lal Ded donned a muslim woman's attire and mingled like a village belle in Charar-i-Sharief with the devotees just to wake up her loved disciple the famed Nund Rishi. The venerable ryosh identified her. Shedding mournful tears, he recalled his famous shrunk as under:

 

"Padampuri chi lolay

Tami gali amrit piva

So soni ti avtar lolay

Tithuy ver dito me deva"

 

Lala thundered in rage and sought an explanation from her worthy disciple as to how this new breed of Kashmiris deviated from the heritage of Kashmiriyat which was a blend of Trika and Sufi- ism Our beloved homeland where it never mattered what faith one professed, shared the bounties and misfortunes of the umes together. "Is this that very land where your Holy Ziarat stands burnt down by our enemies'', Lala broken-heartedly exclaimed Both the Guru and the disciple chatted for a while because they met each other after nearly more than six hundred years Finding the time most opportune the Holy man recalled Lala's own vakh

 

"Swayikul no doda sati sagzey

Sarpeni thulan dizi no fah

Seki shathas bi yol no vavze

Ravi kum yajan til

Kharas gor dine ravi doh

Yus yuth kari so ruith suvre

Mudas gyamich kath no vanize

Krera kaeri zena panun pan

 

While the Ryosh was donned in simple woollens. Lalla too had put on a simple piece of a Kurta to ward off the cold. She reciprocated with a vakh

 

"Deeshi ayas dashah disha ulith

Chalith chotum shunya ada vav

Shivay dhuithum shayi shayi meelith

Sheh-ta-treh trapimas ta Shivay draw"

 

Lalla said, I came from my country and wandered far and wide in ten different directions I sped like a hurricane through the ethereal world, Shiva did I find everywhere embodied in everything.

 

I shut up the nine apertures; and Lo: I found none but Shiva within me

 

There was lightening and thunder. Both the spiritual entities seemed melting in thin air. The people around woke up by gun fire and ran helter-skelter to save themselves from the wrath of gunning. "What was it," they questioned each other?  Coming to the conclusion that it was the curse of the unknown

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Courtesy:- Dr J L Tiku and 1996 November Koshur Samachar

 

 

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