Spring washes away winter’s monotony and breathes new life into the world. Rivers, streams and waterfalls swell with crystal torrents of gushing water as warm spring sun-rays penetrate deep into the thick snow hoarded by majestic mountain peaks. Song-birds lend honeyed sweetness to the air with their melodious chirps and twitters. New shoots rise from the earth’s bosom, and branches don cloaks of green, proclaiming that the spring’s breeze holds the charm to revive and resuscitate what once seemed lifeless. In Kashmir, spring unveils a bloom of countless flowers and fruits, cradling the valley in a symphony of colors, tones and shades.
While most fruits ripen in the peak of summer, cherries and mulberries arrive in late spring. Cherries line roadsides, picnic spots and fruit stalls, the scarlet-red and tempting bunches of the drupes entice every soul, yet they are beyond the reach of lower and lower middle class people for their high prices. Though nothing equals the sweet-sour, marble-sized cherries, but mulberries ripen alongside them, as if the Lord of the universe placed them here, free of cost, for His poor slaves and servants. Mulberry trees are mostly valued for their foliage because the leaves of the trees sustain one of our oldest industries viz the craft of silk making. But, their cylindrical fruits are not less important and enticing.
For decades, thousands of households were integral to the sericulture value chain, with the silk trade serving as a primary source of income and rural employment generation. Our indigenous silk had its own aura across the globe for its unique luster, refinement and texture. Thus, this delicacy associated with mulberry trees was the backbone of our economy. And the famed silk route became the gateway of our trade and commerce. It was this route that helped Kashmiris to transport their prized silk and and handicrafts to the global markets. Thus, silk route played a pivotal role in our economic, social, cultural and religious renaissance. Consequently, the mulberry tree occupies a strategic position within the agro-economic framework of kashmir valley. Today, at the institutional level, a dedicated department of sericulture manages upstream cultivation practices and downstream silkworm rearing operations. Notwithstanding its macroeconomic significance, my personal affinity for the tree stems from its succulent and luscious mulberries.
Picking mulberries from the dense and majestic mulberry trees still fascinate and entice many children of villages and hamlets. Scores of children are seen flocking round the trees as if swarms of wasps and bumblebees are sticking to a pail-sized hornet’s nest. Such sights often transport me back to my childhood days. I vividly remember how I, my siblings and pals would climb mulberry trees to stain our hands and tongues purple, and hearts full of mischief. Picking the juicy berries was no less than an adventure for us. Mulberry trees were our cherished destinations. And a nest of a ringdove on its branches with chicks would double our joys. These chicks would tempt us to visit these trees frequently.
Mulberries of different tones viz black, brown and white were abundantly seen in our yards, backyards, embankments, edges of orchard and farmlands. A few decades ago, colossal mulberry trees were a common sight in our rural areas. Firewood for marriages, funerals and other functions was primarily obtained from these mulberry trees. Firewood from these trees was preferred for its high calorific value and durability of its embers. But, now, the gigantic trees have vanished to our rapacity and avarice. Neither children of the digital era climb the trees to savour the free of cost berries nor their elders show any concern for the conservation of the tree.
We should plant at least a solitary mulberry tree in our yards so that our children can enjoy the traditional fruit that is rich in vitamin c, antioxidants and other essential nutrients. Child obesity and other health issues are rapidly burgeoning in our society. Though it was confined to cities alone, but, now, the conflagration has spread to our rural areas as well. Rural folks used to have slim, trim and fit children for their agility, and ability to run and climb. But, now, sloths with smart phones, tabs and laptops are seen creeping like snails. Some legacies of the past have fallen prey to our fake awe and false pride. Modernization never means to abandon the glories of the past. Picking would stain hands and clothes but are sure to heal our hearts and other vital organs. Let our children mount the unmounted and enjoy the life to the fullest extent. Let us explore life beyond books and classrooms, and give wings to the aspirations of our children.
The Author is a Teacher and a Columnist from Bandipora, writing regularly on culture, climate, education, folklore, history and social issues. He can be reached at mushtaqhurra143@gmail.com
