Not just a relic of the cherished past, the journey of Chhari Mubarak is a celebration of the idea of Kashmiriyat
The Chhari Mubarak or the silver mace of Lord Shiva will, after the
month-long yatra, reach its annual destination the holy cave of Amarnath
and the ice lingam which waxes with the full moon.
There are
many stories about the mace and how it came to be associated with the
pilgrimage. But off the beaten path one heard this one at the shrine of
Sheikh Kalimullah in Delhi, where the Kashmiri woodcutters and shawl
sellers camp during their winter migration and is tempted to repeat it
now that there is so much concern over the Yatra because of a terrorist
threat. Incidentally, Kalimullah means one who talks to God and the name
was originally given to the patriarch Moses. But Kalimullah, the saint
whose shrine is situated opposite the Red Fort was a religious reformer
in the reign of Aurangzeb and had his hospice at the spot where he was
later buried.
It the 1960s the Kashmiri labourers used to migrate
to the Capital in large numbers to escape the rigours of winter in their
home State. Since one did not stay very far from the shrine, it was
possible to visit it every evening for the qawwalis that were a regular
feature then. Sitting outside one of the tents before a logwood fire on
which the handi was being cooked, it was a pleasure to listen to a
bearded man who spoke of the time when the custodian of the Chhari
Mubarak was a Kashmiri Pundit who had embraced Islam.
Festive appeal
The man who will have to remain nameless as the storyteller just
referred to him as the “former Pandit”, would bring out the Chhari every
year to cries of Nare taqbeer. His family saw to it that the occasion
turned into a real festive one, which drummers playing before the house
since early morning. After the community feast the pilgrims used to
assemble. Swinging the chhari, the ex-Pandit would proceed towards the
mahant and hand it over to him with due ceremony amid cries of Har Har
Mahadev.
The custodian, his sons and other male members of the
family would accompany the procession for 500 yards while the women
looked on. Then after embracing the mahant and enjoining on him the duty
of bringing back the chhari safely, the custodian would return, but
five of his relatives accompanied the mace right up to Amarnath. On the
day of the full moon when the mahant reached the holy cave he would
offer the chhari to the ice lingam, the visible form of the ever present
Shiva, for it was actually his walking stick, which he missed the whole
year. How it was bestowed to mankind is another story.
Kind-hearted god
Once while descending from his Himalayan abode, Shiva met a lame man
who couldn’t move out of his way fast enough. His retort brought the
reply from the lame man that he too would move fast if he had a silver
walking stick. The kind hearted god immediately handed over his mace to
him. The chhari remained in the man’s possession ever since. It was
handed down from father to son until it came to the ex-Pandit. Well, he
revered the heirloom all right and on the final day of the pilgrimage
distributed sweets to mark the culmination of a great event.
And
then on the return journey, when the runners brought word that the
chhari procession was only a few miles away, the ex-Pandit and his
family began preparing for the reception. Preceded by the nishan (flag)
and drummers, the Chhari came into view and the custodian went forward
to receive it.
He embraced the mahant again and swung the mace
three times in the air to a deafening cheer and slogans, both of Hindus
and Muslims. Everybody in the family rejoiced that the priceless
heirloom had arrived safely, to be kept away with thanksgiving for
another year.
We know how the Chhari now begins its journey from
Jammu, arrives in Srinagar where it is kept at the Dashnami Akhara, and
then taken by Mahant Dipender Giri after the puja to Pahalgam, from
where it proceeds to the cave shrine via Chandanwari, Sheshnag and
Panchtarni. But the bearded man’s tale, redolent with cries of Allah ho
Akbar, Nare taqbeer and Har Har Mahadev, had its own charm and comes to
mind as a symbol of communal amity, more so now because of the threat by
the Harkat-ul-Ansar and other terrorists.
The pilgrimage may have
culminated but the magic of the Chhari Mubarak, with its lovely Urdu
name, lingers on the whole year. One does not know if that old man still
comes for his annual sojourn at the shrine of Kalimullah Sahib, but
even if he doesn’t, there must surely be someone still who relates such
tales while the evening meal is cooked, for how can a Kashmiri forget
the hallowed mace of Lord Shiva?
Even Allama Iqbal revered the
god because of his Kashmiri Pandit ancestry that made him refer to Lord
Rama as “Imam-e-Hind” and the Ganges as the life-sustaining sacred
river.
To quote from the poet: “Ai Ab-e-rood Ganga hai yaad woh
din tujko / Uttara tere kinare jab karavan hamara”. A lucid reference to
the arrival of the Aryans. The Chhari Mubarak also is a relic of that
cherished past.
The same
shayar went on to eulogise the mother country with this remarkable
verse: “Yunan, Misr, Rooma sab mit gaye jahan se / kuch baath hai ke
hasti mitthi nahin hamari” (Greece, Egypt and Rome have gone into
oblivion after their heyday, but isn’t it amazing that Indian
civilisation still continues to flourish as of old)? The Amarnath Yatra,
which started for the cave shrine with its ice lingam on June 28, is a
vital strand in the perennial fabric that envelops Bharat Mata and the
belief in Lord Shiva. But fewer Kashmiri woodcutters and shawl sellers
come to Delhi now, though the legend of the silver mace lives on.
