Late Bakshi Ghulam Mohammed (1907–1972) was a prominent figure who served as the Prime Minister/Chief Minister of the State of Jammu and Kashmir for eleven years, from 1953 to 1964. He played a crucial role in shaping the destiny of Kashmir and is often referred to as the Architect of modern Kashmir.
Bakshi Sahib received his education at C.M.S Tyndale Biscoe School in Srinagar. Initially, he started his career as a school teacher, serving in remote areas of Jammu and Kashmir such as Skardu and Leh. Later, he became associated with the Kashmir branch of the All India Spinners’ Association. During the freedom struggle, he actively participated in organizing students and workers, establishing their unions. As a result, he was arrested multiple times, including a sixteen-month term in Reasi sub-Jail. Within the National Conference party, his pioneering work earned him the title “Khalid-e-Kashmir.”
I had the honour of meeting Bakshi Sahib personally way back in the year 1962-63. I was a member of a delegation that sought an appointment with the ‘Architect’ to seek permission to publish a Hindi fortnightly magazine called ‘Prakash.’ It was a unique venture considering that it was to be published in a non-Hindi-speaking state like Jammu and Kashmir. I vividly remember our meeting with Bakshi Sahib in his office, which was located somewhere near or in front of Pollo Ground in Srinagar.
After we entered his chamber and his personal assistant informed him about the purpose of our visit, he immediately asked, “Editor kus chhu?” (Who is the editor?). One of us pointed towards me and politely said, “‘Yi jnab’ (yeh hai Janab) – MA (Hindi) pass first class first position.” Bakshi Sahib looked at me intently, perhaps evaluating and judging my worth through his intuition. At that time, I would have been around 21 years old. He followed up with another question, “Ath akhbaars manz ma rozi politics?” (Is there any politics in this newspaper?). One of our knowledgeable members quickly replied, “‘Na jnab, ye chhhu akh smaajee ta dharmik akhbaar” (Nahi jnab, yeh to ek samajik aur dharmik akhbaar hoga). The permission was granted, and some advertisements were also offered.
The publication of ‘Prakash’ continued for several years, but unfortunately, it had to be abandoned due to insufficient funds and other challenges. The sponsor, Brahmin Maha Mandal, could not sustain the financial burden for long. However, the inaugural issue of Prakash was adorned with messages from eminent Hindi writers and luminaries such as Ramdhari Singh Dinkar, Seth Govind Das, Mahadevi Verma, Upendra Nath Ashk, and Bakshi Sahib himself.
The experiences and memories of meeting Bakshi Sahib, the Architect of modern Kashmir, remain etched in my mind.
Stalwart of Literary Fraternity
It was always a pleasure to meet the esteemed Hindi editor, critic, author, and translator, Shri Prabhakar Shrotriya, during his tenure as the Director of Bhartiya Gyanpeeth (Jnanpith) Publications in Delhi. During that time, I served as a member of the Language Advisory Committee of Jnanpith. One particular meeting with him will forever remain etched in my memory.
Many years ago, after attending a meeting of the Jnanpith Award Committee, I wished to have a separate meeting with Prabhakar ji in his chamber. Coincidentally, it was the day when the Gyanpeeth staff was preparing to bid him farewell, as he had decided to step down from his position for personal reasons. Accompanying me was my friend, Prof. Jug Mandir Tayal. Prabhakar ji warmly welcomed both of us and presented us with the latest issue of Gyanodaya. We shared tea and engaged in conversation, taking up a considerable amount of time. Meanwhile, his personal assistant informed him on two occasions that the entire staff was waiting downstairs for the farewell and that some guests from outside had been waiting for quite some time.
Recognizing the urgency of the situation, we also felt compelled to request his permission to leave. However, due to his magnanimity and respect for writers, he never made us feel that he was in a hurry. Instead, he instructed his assistant, “I have some guests here who have travelled a long way to meet me. I might need some more time.”
In today’s world, it is rare to encounter such stalwarts of the literary fraternity who genuinely value, respect, and admire writers. Unfortunately, Mr. Shrotriya is no longer with us, as he attained a heavenly abode a few years ago. His gentle demeanour and profound respect for writers will always be cherished and remembered.
Pitambar Paanwala
This is a story about Peetambar Paanwala, affectionately known as “Peetkak.” His popular little shop situated on the picturesque side of the Habba Kadal Bridge in Srinagar, was nestled amidst the scenic beauty of Kashmir. Back in those days, we were mere students, eagerly gathering around his shop to listen to the enchanting melodies of the Radio Ceylon Geetmala and the exhilarating cricket match commentaries. Owning a radio at home was a luxury a few could afford.
Peetkak possessed a memorable persona. Standing tall and sturdy, he possessed a captivating face that exuded charm. His voice resonated with authority, reaching far and wide. A prominent round vermilion tilak adorned his forehead, adding to his charismatic presence. Thanks to his quick wit and audacity, Peetkak had become a renowned figure at the bustling Habba Kadal Square. Right next to his shop, a small stall housed the reserved Zinda Paanwala (betel leaf seller). He lived in our lane only.
Adjacent to Peetkak’s bustling shop, two renowned bookstores, Kapoor Brothers and Ali Muhammad and Sons, stood tall. In those times, Habba Kadal was considered the pulsating heart of Srinagar city. I was born near Habba Kadal, in the enchanting Purushyar Mohalla.
Although the valley basked in peace and tranquillity, there were elements of discord attempting to disrupt the harmony of the region. Peetkak often expressed his frustration to me, questioning the state of affairs: “What kind of place are we living in?” he would exclaim. “Daily curfews, protests, demonstrations, strikes, lathi-charges, shutdowns, and the list would go on. Leave this place, or else you’ll end up selling paan/betel leaves like me for the rest of your life.”
Today, I find myself pondering why Peetkak has crossed my mind. I am unsure if he still graces this world with his presence. The realization dawns upon me, illustrating how destiny shapes a person’s career and influences his future.
The writer is former Fellow, Indian Institute of Advanced Study, former Fellow, IIAS, Ex-Member, Hindi Salahkar Samiti, Ministry of Law & Justice, senior Fellow, Ministry of Culture.
