It was not just dancing snowflakes and  snowmen during somber winter days that in unison sang merry songs for us.  It was not also just desecrating the virgin snow for curing the chilblains that filled our hearts with mirth. We were a happy got lot, looked for joy in every season and every situation.  
Many times, when I look back, I envy my childhood. All seasons had their songs of joy. Our spring and summer companions; the swallows, hoopoes, thrushes, woodpeckers and parakeets had songs for us. Even the shrill voices of the children parroting  Arabic alphabets coming out of the latticed waabchokh of the place I dreaded most- the ‘otanjis chatahal’   sounded as melodious as a highland stream at midnight.  In the words of Stevenson, there was “something bright in all!  Flowers in summer!   And fires in fall!”   
The fall- autumn had its own songs in store for us. It were not just bonfires in the evenings that excited us- or the billows of smoke from just burnt leaves lending a supernatural aura to the golden firmament.   I remember the joy that all my friends got during autumns in rolling on dried grass of the sprawling lawns of the martyrs graveyard or the grand mosque.  We rolled and rolled on the dried grass and out of thrill cried full throat at each other.   There was also   excitement in dusting dried straws from our heads and clothes- many times   ending in    a slang match and calling each other’s names.
The autumn, with about a dozen of massive Chinar trees in the grand mosque used to be at the best. I often accompanied my grandmother and her two or three companions, all in ripe age to the grand mosque. It was a routine with them; saying noon prayers (zuhur) and sitting until afternoon prayers (asar) inside the mosque.  No sooner, grandmother started her long prayers I got busy with my own activities;   watching caravans of ants marching tirelessly like soldiers on dry grass. It was one of my best pastimes in autumns at the Jamia Masjid.   Not only grandmother, but also other elderly women   would   empty small pouches of their pherans containing grains of rice near ants on the grass.  Watching the rows of red and black ants- without knowing they were classified as ‘workers’ and ‘soldiers’ carrying the grains of the rice to their subterranean homes and colonies was a loveable sight. It was an inspiring to see three or four of them transporting a dead grasshopper or an aphid to their homes. Elders enjoying autumn sun on the mosque lawns often told us to learn a lesson from ants, how they ceaselessly    build their stores for wintry days. They would narrate stories about ants and Prophet Suleiman (Solomon).  Those days the lawns of Jamia Masjid or other hospice in our part of city with learned elders around were as good as open Islamic Universities.
Had our elders learned lesson from these small insects or geography had taught them hard way gearing up for harsh winters during autumns only. Those days no one, not even the political upstarts and neo rich depended upon imports coming from outside through the newly constructed Banahal tunnel.  The man in street was least concerned about the closure of this tunnel. People generally made a fun of the tunnel closure and compared it to a gaagar-waaj (Rat Burrow). The folk singers ladishah (troubadours) nostalgic about round the year open   the Jhelum valley Road composed verses about   the closure of this road cascading with sarcasm.      
I have very vivid impressions about   men and women   engaging like ants    for storing essentials ahead of the winters. Almost every home labored to be self-sufficient in meeting day-to-day requirements during winters. Like in all other homes in our neighborhood my grandmother, mother and aunt would also start preparations for winters by buying large quantities of turnips, tomatoes, spinach and other vegetables for drying them under the autumn sun. I remember, sometimes fisherwomen visiting our home with basketful small variety fish know in local parlance as ‘Gorun and Ramagorun’- and offering it at throwaway prices for being parched for winter months. The deal included cleaning and washing of these fish also- I remember these would then often be spread on a sheet of cloth and left to dry in sun on the roof of our house…Storing for winters was in itself grand winter phenomenon..that has many stories.
zahidgm@greaterkashmir.com      

Lastupdate on : Sat, 28 Jan 2012 21:30:00 Mecca time
Lastupdate on : Sat, 28 Jan 2012 18:30:00 GMT
Lastupdate on : Sun, 29 Jan 2012 00:00:00 IST