Review: Yaadgah; Memories of Srinagar by Arshi Javaid
This collection of storytelling and artwork by a team of women brings the cosmopolitan city to life for a new readership
For centuries, Srinagar was a cosmopolitan city where traditionalism and modernity coexisted side by side; a seat of learning where cultures of the East and West converged. In Yaadgah: Memories of Srinagar, academic Arshi Javaid and her team of women writers have undertaken the laborious exercise of bringing the cosmopolitan city to life for a new audience — one that is aware only of Srinagar’s, and by extension Kashmir’s, political identity. The essays in this intense memoir offer insights into the knowledge of families and their specific forms of living and working together in the Old City, popularly known as Shahr-e-Khass.
Yaadgah began as a memory project when Javaid joined the Gender and Media Studies program at Humboldt University, Berlin, to work on the multicultural neighbourhoods of the Old city of Srinagar. What emerged was this lucidly written and emotionally intense collection of personal narratives of lived everyday experience, and of loss and longing. It is difficult to write about Kashmir, and the task becomes even more challenging when the attempt is to explore the pain and suffering of communities as an inward experience rather than as an outward one, as has been generally seen in popular discourse — where injustices against Kashmiri Muslims and Hindus are not complementary but selectively permeable. As Javaid writes in the introduction, “Earning trust in Kashmir is always tricky, and gaining the confidence of Kashmiri Pandit families who had not migrated was an arduous exercise. My friend wanted to be associated with the project in a bigger role and wished to travel to Srinagar. However, her family developed mistrust, which eventually spiralled into hate against me”.
Those Who Never Left
The book is divided into four broader parts — Those Who Never Left, Seeking Home, Yarbal, and Shelters of Solace. Each section includes essays portraying multifaceted perspectives on the sociocultural milieu, while also presenting a poignant account of political erasure. In Those Who Never Left, Javaid meets a resilient Kashmiri Pandit woman who stayed back in Kashmir despite the persecution of her community. Phamb had her reasons to stay: “It was eerie and silent. I couldn’t leave for personal reasons. I was a young widow with three children, with no resources to migrate and start a new life somewhere else. Yeti aes panin jai (we owned the house), had a roof to protect my children and the familiarity of the old neighborhood. What could a young widow do in a wapor (foreign) place?” In the multicultural neighbourhoods of the old city, where coexistence prevails, some Pandits felt secure enough to stay back in Muslim-majority mohallas. Another Pandit family faced segregation within their community when their son fell in love with a Muslim girl. Love sometimes defies religious and class boundaries but often has to conform to established social norms; society generally cares little for love or lovers. Ayush was punished for transgressing in love. “I have exiled my heart, for I loved across boundaries,” he says.
Home as memorabilia
The decades-long conflict has affected people in different ways and home has become a metaphor for both belonging and loss. While Kashmiri Pandits were forced to abandon their homes, many Muslim Kashmiri men disappeared, leaving behind wailing mothers, wives, and sisters, who grew frail waiting for their return. In Absence, Mehar Qadri visits the abandoned house of Moghal Masse, who spent 19 lonely years waiting for her disappeared son. The Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons (APDP), a collective in Kashmir, estimates that more than 8,000 men and boys have disappeared since the outbreak of armed insurgency in 1989. Kashmiri homes, then, are intimate landscapes of memory and loss.
These then are stories of grief, sorrow, and yearning that compel the reader to share in the suffering. Besides being a magnificent portrayal of Srinagar’s rich architecture, a legacy of the Perso-Greek tradition, Yaadgah is also an exploration of the intersectional gender perspective on life in the city. Yarbal (meeting place) and What Does it Mean to be an Ordinary Working-Class Woman from the City portray women’s daily struggles with entrenched patriarchy and their resilience in overcoming such forms of domination. Incidentally, the yarbal in the piece is an unorganised club where women assemble, share grief, and form sisterhood — regardless of differences in class, caste, or status.
The book’s splendid visual imagery that captures the essence of Srinagar makes this anthology a virtual tour guide, showcasing the city’s vibrant cultural spaces and its politically significant graveyards, which are symbolic of beauty, resilience, and histories. A remarkable collection of storytelling and artwork, Yaadgah is an immersive read on collective memory and nostalgia, as well as an authoritative account of the multifaceted identity of Srinagar.
Bilal Gani is faculty of Political Studies, Government Degree College Beerwah, J&K
For centuries, Srinagar was a cosmopolitan city where traditionalism and modernity coexisted side by side; a seat of learning where cultures of the East and West converged. In Yaadgah: Memories of Srinagar, academic Arshi Javaid and her team of women writers have undertaken the laborious exercise of bringing the cosmopolitan city to life for a new audience — one that is aware only of Srinagar’s, and by extension Kashmir’s, political identity. The essays in this intense memoir offer insights into the knowledge of families and their specific forms of living and working together in the Old City, popularly known as Shahr-e-Khass.
Yaadgah began as a memory project when Javaid joined the Gender and Media Studies program at Humboldt University, Berlin, to work on the multicultural neighbourhoods of the Old city of Srinagar. What emerged was this lucidly written and emotionally intense collection of personal narratives of lived everyday experience, and of loss and longing. It is difficult to write about Kashmir, and the task becomes even more challenging when the attempt is to explore the pain and suffering of communities as an inward experience rather than as an outward one, as has been generally seen in popular discourse — where injustices against Kashmiri Muslims and Hindus are not complementary but selectively permeable. As Javaid writes in the introduction, “Earning trust in Kashmir is always tricky, and gaining the confidence of Kashmiri Pandit families who had not migrated was an arduous exercise. My friend wanted to be associated with the project in a bigger role and wished to travel to Srinagar. However, her family developed mistrust, which eventually spiralled into hate against me”.
Those Who Never Left
The book is divided into four broader parts — Those Who Never Left, Seeking Home, Yarbal, and Shelters of Solace. Each section includes essays portraying multifaceted perspectives on the sociocultural milieu, while also presenting a poignant account of political erasure. In Those Who Never Left, Javaid meets a resilient Kashmiri Pandit woman who stayed back in Kashmir despite the persecution of her community. Phamb had her reasons to stay: “It was eerie and silent. I couldn’t leave for personal reasons. I was a young widow with three children, with no resources to migrate and start a new life somewhere else. Yeti aes panin jai (we owned the house), had a roof to protect my children and the familiarity of the old neighborhood. What could a young widow do in a wapor (foreign) place?” In the multicultural neighbourhoods of the old city, where coexistence prevails, some Pandits felt secure enough to stay back in Muslim-majority mohallas. Another Pandit family faced segregation within their community when their son fell in love with a Muslim girl. Love sometimes defies religious and class boundaries but often has to conform to established social norms; society generally cares little for love or lovers. Ayush was punished for transgressing in love. “I have exiled my heart, for I loved across boundaries,” he says.
Home as memorabilia
The decades-long conflict has affected people in different ways and home has become a metaphor for both belonging and loss. While Kashmiri Pandits were forced to abandon their homes, many Muslim Kashmiri men disappeared, leaving behind wailing mothers, wives, and sisters, who grew frail waiting for their return. In Absence, Mehar Qadri visits the abandoned house of Moghal Masse, who spent 19 lonely years waiting for her disappeared son. The Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons (APDP), a collective in Kashmir, estimates that more than 8,000 men and boys have disappeared since the outbreak of armed insurgency in 1989. Kashmiri homes, then, are intimate landscapes of memory and loss.
These then are stories of grief, sorrow, and yearning that compel the reader to share in the suffering. Besides being a magnificent portrayal of Srinagar’s rich architecture, a legacy of the Perso-Greek tradition, Yaadgah is also an exploration of the intersectional gender perspective on life in the city. Yarbal (meeting place) and What Does it Mean to be an Ordinary Working-Class Woman from the City portray women’s daily struggles with entrenched patriarchy and their resilience in overcoming such forms of domination. Incidentally, the yarbal in the piece is an unorganised club where women assemble, share grief, and form sisterhood — regardless of differences in class, caste, or status.
The book’s splendid visual imagery that captures the essence of Srinagar makes this anthology a virtual tour guide, showcasing the city’s vibrant cultural spaces and its politically significant graveyards, which are symbolic of beauty, resilience, and histories. A remarkable collection of storytelling and artwork, Yaadgah is an immersive read on collective memory and nostalgia, as well as an authoritative account of the multifaceted identity of Srinagar.
Bilal Gani is faculty of Political Studies, Government Degree College Beerwah, J&K
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