All posts filed under: Save the Birdman of Kashmir

A Tale of the King Rooster, The Birdman and a Cat: Saving Rasool’s Bird Park in Lake Dal, Kashmir.

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On a drive to make this man live. Continuing from Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of Heaven and Birds in Kashmir and Help Save the Birdman of Kashmir: A Fundraiser : ँ : Even though Rasool’s favourite rooster died in old age but his death was not natural. By the time he died, the deepest virtue he attained was patience. And carried the Curiosity of a crow. He was a fighter Cock. And is remembered for his last fight that he fought with the heaviest spy cat on Dal Lake in Kashmir. The cat would start swimming as soon as the sun would set, from the foothills of the Shankaracharya temple crossing Dal and coming to the backyard of Rasool’s houseboat named Abu and Sheeba. It was said that it was she who inspired a line of dogs to cross the lake to find newer avenues to hunt and eat. But being a cat she would come and take all her time to roam and plan in the longer run her future homes. It …

Help Save the Birdman of Kashmir. Save Rasool : A Fundraiser

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Some of you may remember Rasool. My guardian, and the one who brought Kashmir to me. I had written about him more than a few times. But for the ones who might not have heard about this Birdman, this magic man, must read this first. Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of Heaven and Birds in Kashmir But if you have skipped and are reading this. Let me please request you to meet him first yourself. You must have known that for some time i had been meaning to do something for Rasool. Not because i must but more because his life is more important than most. As he knew, he understood how valuable, how important others lives are. He loved, protected and cared for the lives of those who were left to fend for themselves. He saved the birds and all nature beings as his own. For me, to find his work and a small bird park in a region marred by Bullet sounds and all kind of violence was a revolution in itself. …

The Gun Mountains and Other Gods -V/VII

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On the Road to Baltistan, continuing from Call of the Now- I Life and nothing more- II Road will tell you- III Remember me with a Lotus- IV : ँ : Before we reach Turtuk, Baltistan; it was important to dedicate an essay only to the journey. My travels that saw me traversing through these dangerous, rough and meditative landscapes that over the years helped changing me, even my cells. For many years this road has been my road to inner work and of the outside world, and i imagine one which taught me best how to discern. This National Highway that runs from Srinagar, Kashmir to Leh is called the NH Delta- 1 and is the most important road that joins the valley of Kashmir to Laddakh. La that is ‘a mountain pass’, and ddakh is the ‘King’- this land that is the king of the mountain passes, running along the mighty river Indus, parallel to the most active, volatile border in the world, the Line of Control with Pakistan. Ever since the partition …

Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of heaven and birds in Kashmir- IV/VII

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Narayan, do you know why I am here today? I kept my silence. I couldn’t see my father when he died. I wasn’t there. He had stopped me from leaving home but I left regardless and all my life i have been living with this guilt that i couldn’t even gave my hands for his body. I wasn’t there with him when he wanted me most and it had needled me every moment. You know, when he was young, he too came on this yatra, with someone like you, his friend. I remembered his stories of bathing in the coldest waters of Sheshnag.

Life and nothing more- II/VII

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Continuing from Call of the Now, for the Great Himalayan Road Reunion. : ँ : To Srinagara, to zojila, to Leh, to Hanle, to the land that invoked my spirit, beyond the Indus, towards the Karakoram, to the parents of my children in Turtuk, to the man who flipped, to all the treks that lead to mahadeva and Gaura; to the top of that Himalayan mountain where the first tyre burst, to i don’t know what pass that came after where hundred’s of horses ran just to take left, and we took towards sky. Stone laden river bed that kept us moving on a conical mountain all afternoon, many called it a road. Through a broken bridge, through the ditches connecting another ditch on the World Yoga day. To stopping in front of the snow, and drinking it. To dipping in the coldest river Tirthan, to filling stomach from the river Chandrabhaga. To standing all night under the milky way. To crying for my parted child, to buying eyes for Rasool bhai. While laughing at …