Today’s newsletter is slightly different from usual programming. This is Onaiza, one-half of Daak, writing to you about something close to my heart and a project that has occupied the last three years of mine (and truth be told the last decade and a half). Even the birth of Daak in its own way was linked to this nostalgia and curiosity for literature in my mother tongue - Kashmiri.

On a sunny afternoon many years ago, an elderly man, who was helping me read Kashmiri folk tales from badly printed books, sat me down and said he wanted to give me a gift. ‘I want you to be able to read your mother tongue,’ he said. I laughed and said I’d never be as good. He smiled. ‘Maybe, but I will not feel like this interaction has been futile.’ It was then, in my twenties, that I started with the alphabet of a language I’d known since the day I was born. I could understand it, even speak it to some passable degree, but I could barely read or write it.

In an attempt to relive my childhood—replete with its songs and stories—I set out on an obsessive path of examining the Kashmiri language. I have since spoken about its peculiarities to anyone who would listen. I have retold its folklore, examined how its orality manifests and spent an inordinate amount of time tracing back etymologies with speakers of other languages. I have also immersed myself in the single most difficult activity I’ve ever taken on: translation.

Early on reading literature translated from the language into English was often a dissatisfying experience. I knew the idiom of the original and I knew it could be carried over better, keeping the essence alive. Yet I didn’t know how or rather who could do it. Over years, I tried to attempt translation myself. I took six months to translate my first short story. And in the process met translators who think differently. Translators who tread the line between freedom and fidelity beautifully and inhabit their Kashmiri-ness with radical confidence. In conversations with the translators, I posed the question, if I were choosing what is out there in translation, what would it be? Thus began the quest that became a book. A book designed as a doorway into the lifeworld of Kashmir.

There were countless instances of magic—of books being dropped into my hands, chance encounters that led me to like-minded people, radio programmes that serendipitously brought me answers to questions I was thinking of, finding texts I wasn’t looking for and stumbling upon rare recordings I’d not dreamt of ever finding. The dreamlike literary immersion is now a book. A book that hosts not only fiction but poetry, song, drama and devotional chants. A book that tries to cover literature from 14th century Kashmir to contemporary writing and seeks to move beyond chronological literary categorizations that exist in previous anthologies. It groups works by themes that have often existed across time—poets and writers picking up on thoughts and forms left behind by their predecessors centuries ago.

You will encounter scholars, saints, experimental dramatists and unlettered poets. You will witness a thriving oral tradition, a literary culture that borrowed from the East and a print culture that engaged with the West in the volumne. And most importantly, you will hopefully be immersed into the emotional topography of the land, the language and the people.

You can pre-order The Big Book of Kashmiri Literature here and it shall be in bookstores by the end of August. Please do show it some love. And if you manage to read it, do write back.

I’d love to hear from you.

With love,

Onaiza

She reminded us that to love someone is also to wonder how deeply you are held in return. Do you exist in their conscious thoughts and quiet moments, or only in their passing moods?

The question is both an admission of vulnerability and an invitation to intimacy, for not just shared time or memories but a constant and lasting presence. We ache to know our place in someone’s life and at the same time, we dread the answer.

Perhaps the quiet tragedy of love is that two people remain separate, each carrying their own interior world. We can love intensely and still never fully know the exact place we occupy in someone else’s heart.

So, all we can do, in humility and hope, is to ask for a place.

Tumhaari zindagi mein
main kahaan par hoon?

Hawaa-e-subah mein
ya shaam ke pehle sitaare mein
jhijhakti boonda-baandi mein
ki behad tez baarish mein
rupahli chaandni mein
ya ki phir tapti dupahri mein
bahut gehre khayaalon mein
ki behad sarsari dhun mein

Tumhaari zindagi mein
main kahaan par hoon?

Hujoom-e-kaar se ghabra ke
saahil ke kinaare par
kisi week-end ka waqfa
ki cigarette ke tasalsul mein
tumhaari ungliyon ke beech
aane waali koi be-irada reshmi fursat
ki jaam-e-surkh mein
yaksar tahi
aur phir se
bhar jaane ka khush-aadaab lamha
ki ik khwaab-e-muhabbat tootne
aur doosra aaghaaz hone ke
kahin maabain ik benaam lamhe ki firaagat?

Tumhaari zindagi mein
main kahaan par hoon?

//

Where do I exist
in your life?

In the morning breeze?
Or in the first star of the evening?
In the shy drizzle
or in a sudden, heavy rain?
In silver moonlight,
or in the burning heat of afternoon?
In your deepest thoughts,
or in a passing, careless tune?

Where do I exist
in your life?

When the crowd of work overwhelms you
and you escape to the edge of the shore,
am I a quiet weekend pause?
Or in the rhythm of a cigarette
held between your fingers,
a silken, unintended moment of rest?

In a glass of wine
emptied completely,
then filled again
with a gracious, knowing smile?

Or in that nameless space
between one dream of love breaking
and another beginning?

Where do I exist
in your life?

If you love love…

If, like us, you’re an incurable romantic, check out our collection featuring literature, art and poetry on love.

Daak Love Collection

Even if we view this issue from a purely anthropocentric lens, these forms of life and land have always carried us quietly, holding water beneath our feet, cooling the air we breathe and remembering ecological balances long before we learned to name them. When their presence erodes, it is not only geography that disappears but a deeper continuity that makes living possible.

The Aravali Hills, among the oldest mountain ranges in the world, have long acted as a natural shield by regulating climate, recharging groundwater and supporting forests and wildlife across northwest India. Today, relentless mining, urban expansion and legal neglect have fractured this ancient system. As the Aravalis are cut, flattened or erased from records, the damage extends beyond landscape loss. It accelerates desertification, worsens heat extremes and weakens the fragile ecological balance that cities like Delhi still depend on.

This slow destruction thrives on indifference and lack of awareness. To care for nature today is also to educate ourselves (here’s a helpful article that explains the Aravali Hills issue), to understand what is being lost, how it is being lost and why it matters. As Kedarnath Singh reminds us, the earth will endure but what endures with us depends on whether we choose attention over apathy and responsibility over forgetting.

Yah Prithvi Rahegi

mujhe vishwas hai
yah prithvi rahegi

yadi aur kahin nahin toh meri haddiyon mein
yah rahegi jaise ped ke tan mein

rahte hain deemak
jaise dane mein rah leta hai ghun

yah rahegi pralay ke baad bhi mere andar
yadi aur kahin nahin toh meri zaban

aur meri nashwarta mein
yah rahegi

aur ek subah main uthunga
main uthunga prithvi-samet

jal aur kacchap-samet main uthunga
main uthunga aur chal dunga usse milne

jisse wada hai
ki milunga.

//

This Earth Will Remain 

I believe
this earth will remain.

If nowhere else, then in my bones
it will remain as termites remain in the trunk of a tree,

as a weevil makes its home
inside a grain.

It will remain within me even after catastrophe.
If nowhere else, then in my tongue,

and in my mortality
it will remain.

And one morning I will rise
I will rise carrying the earth with me.

With water, with the tortoise, I will rise.
I will rise and set out to meet the one to whom I have promised
that I will meet.

Want to read more poetry?

We have two offerings for you: A Poem A Month subscription, where we email you a surprise poem and a little reflection at the beginning of each month and the Daak Vaak Poetry Calendar which has a different poem for each day of the year — also on discount!

This has been a quiet year of reflection and redirection. We felt it was necessary to to take a pause for some good and bad reasons, and in the interim (as it always is with life), there have been gains and losses. A fresh wound is the recent loss of poet Vinod Kumar Shukla. A gentle way to bid farewell is to watch the delightful documentary Chaar Phool Hain Aur Duniya Hai by Manav Kaul, where Shukla and his son dwell on seeing, memory, meaning and the artist’s life.

For our part, we’d like to share a poem on returning home, both the comfort and the responsibility of it. When you move away, remember that you owe something to your home as well, namely the enlargement of your nostalgic love into a more expansive love and kindness even as you walk your own path. So, let home be not just a place, but your moral centre.

Door se apna ghar dekhna chahiye  

Door se apna ghar dekhna chahiye  
Majboori mein na laut sakne wali doori se apna ghar  

Kabhi laut sakenge ki poori aasha mein  
Saat samundar paar chale jaana chahiye  

Jaate-jaate palatkar dekhna chahiye  
Doosre desh se apna desh  

Antariksh se apni prithvi  
Tab ghar mein bachche kya karte honge ki yaad  

Prithvi mein bachche kya karte honge ki hogi  
Ghar mein ann-jal hoga ki nahin ki chinta  

Prithvi mein ann-jal ki chinta hogi  
Prithvi mein koi bhookha  

Ghar mein bhookha jaisa hoga  
Aur prithvi ki taraf lautna  

Ghar ki taraf lautne jaisa  
Ghar ka hisaab-kitaab itna gadbad hai  

Ki thodi door paidal jaakar ghar ki taraf lautta hoon  
Jaise prithvi ki taraf

//

One Should See One's Own Home From Far Off

One should see one’s own home from far off.
One should cross the seven oceans
to see one’s home,
in the helplessness of the unbridgeable distance,
fully hoping to return some day.
One should turn around, while journeying,
to see one’s own country from another.
One’s Earth, from space.
Then the memory of
what the children are doing at home
will be the memory of what children are doing on Earth.
Concern about food and drink at home
will be concern about food and drink on Earth.
Anyone hungry on Earth
will be like someone hungry at home.
And returning to Earth
will be like returning home.

Things back home are in such a mess
that after walking a few steps from home,
I return homewards as if it were Earth.

Translation by Vinod Kumar Shukla and Daniel Weissbort

Poetry and Art as Solace

What has kept us sane over the years, and especially this year, has been the generative spirit of artists and writers, which has inspired all of the gifts and products we’ve created.

As we wrap up 2025, we’ve launched a massive sale and would love for you to check it out. Every small order helps keep Daak Vaak alive, and as a small business, we truly appreciate the support!

If you’re looking to immerse yourself in poetry, we’ve also launched a new digital product, A Poem A Month, where we will email you or your chosen recipient a surprise poem at the beginning of each month this year.

Sending love and inspiration to you all!

Team Daak Vaak

The first is the iconic Awaara (The Vagabond) and it is unfathomable that Raj Kapoor’s masterpiece was released more than seventy years ago! The divide between modernity and tradition, liberality and prejudice, and privilege and deprivation was as evident in a newly independent India as it is today. Kapoor captured these conflicting themes in a fantastical story of pride, revenge, love, and vindication. The movie delivers a powerful social message about many issues plaguing society, the main one being our own prejudices and perceptions of the other. Also, keep an eye out for a powerful female lead, offering a compelling commentary on women’s place in a society in flux.

The second is Bimal Roy’s 1955 adaptation of Sharat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s novel, Devdas. Chances are, you don’t need a re-introduction to Devdas - it is possibly one of the most adapted literary works of the subcontinent, one that has gone beyond the realm of literature and become an adjective in common parlance. For the millennial generation in the subcontinent, Shah Rukh Khan brought the character to life, but for an older generation, it is the role that Dilip Kumar is best known for. Watch this one for Dilip Kumar’s nuanced portrayal, which humanises this rather pitiable character, compelling us to feel the pain of a broken and flawed human.

Hope you enjoy the movies—we’d love to hear what you think of them!

With love,

Team Daak

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The first is Shatranj Ke Khiladi based on Munshi Premchand's famous story of the same name. Set in 1856 Lucknow, Satyajit Ray's 1977 film film elegantly captures a society steeped in cultural and artistic grandeur, highlighted by Ray’s subtle humour. It revolves around two noblemen, chess-obsessed friends insulated in their privilege, oblivious to the political turmoil under Nawab Wajid Ali Shah’s reign. Ray masterfully transforms Premchand’s subtleties into visual splendour, from the lingering scent of attar to Birju Maharaj’s choreographed dances and meticulously crafted costumes. In two hours, the film delves into numerous themes, using animation, graphics, and dialogues interwoven with poetry, to paint Lucknow as a cultural hub amidst significant changes.

The second movie will take you from the pages of history to the paranormal. In Mani Kaul’s 1973 adaptation of Vijaydan Detha’s story "Duvidha" (Dilemma), nothing is as it seems. The film opens with a newlywed couple on their way home, where the wife's craving for a fruit sets the stage for a powerful narrative about a woman's choices in a patriarchal society. Her beauty attracts a lustful ghost who takes advantage of her husband's absence and takes on his form to fulfil marital duties. Using a unique, dispassionate narrative style, stoic characters, and artistic cinematography, with lingering silences, ambient sounds, and visual focus on the woman's features, the film highlights her main dilemma—having to choose between her own decisions and a life dictated by societal norms.

Enjoy the movies and tell us what you think of them!

With Love,

Team Daak

We have a new range of cheeky greeting cards to celebrate our friends: those who put up with our drama, match our crazy, lend a helping hand and always share a laugh! Check out the collection!

Despite science often being viewed as detached from emotion, true scientists have often attested that beneath a clinical pursuit of knowledge lies an enduring curiosity and a love for the world's mysteries. This passion for discovery and understanding is exemplified by figures like Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose. His inaugural address on November 30, 1917, dedicating the Bose Institute to the service of the nation, is a timely reminder of the profound insight and wisdom that scientists can offer, and an ode to the selfless and relentless pursuit of truth.

Like scientists, poets have also urged us to turn from material pursuits and seek truth and connection in nature and spirituality — a perennial gift that keeps on giving. In his very short life, Henry Louis Vivian Derozio managed to articulate this tenet in the form of a lyrical poem, “A Walk by Moonlight.” A young achiever, Derozio was appointed a teacher of English Literature and History at the Hindu college at 17 years of age. He introduced his students to Western science and radical ideas, and strongly encouraged debate and discussion around social and political issues. His poetry remains a comforting reminder that nature offers the answers and solace we desperately seek.

Whether through the lens of science, the brushstrokes of an artist or the pen of a poet, the quest for truth can take countless paths; as long as we commit to this exploration, we will continue to find meaning and fulfilment.

Love,

Team Daak

We’re celebrating the legacy of Amrita Sher-Gil with this stunning bookmark set - perfect for book lovers and art enthusiasts alike!

Dushyant Kumar (1933-1975) was a prominent Hindi poet and a pioneer of the Hindi ghazal. He worked as a scriptwriter for All India Radio and wrote during a politically sensitive time — the Indian Emergency of the 1970s. He is often hailed as the voice of Indian youth during those turbulent times. His provocative poetry, which traverses themes of love and rebellion, is more relevant than ever before. Kumar wrote stinging critiques of establishments in lyrical verse, the spirit of dissent alive in each expression.

Born in a small village in Uttar Pradesh in 1945, Gorakh Pandey saw the oppression of the caste system firsthand. His small acts of rebellion, such as interacting with lower-caste peasants and labourers, had already created a deep rift between him and his family. As a college student at Banaras Hindu University (BHU) and later at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), he began writing provocative poems primarily against discrimination and the suppression of marginalized communities. He gained popularity during the Naxalite movement, and his poems and songs resonated in rallies, protests, and demonstrations across the country.

Poetry remains a powerful tool for expression, resistance and hope, inspiring people to stand against injustice and envision a better future. Through poetry, we discover the courage to persist and the hope to change our world.

Love,

Team Daak

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Eunice de Souza (1940 - 2017), one of India’s most well-known modern poets, was born and brought up in Pune, in a Goan Catholic family. After completing her education, she taught English at St. Xavier’s College, Mumbai, where she was loved and feared in equal parts. With her sharp tongue and trenchant views, de Souza could reduce even the boldest personalities to a bundle of nerves. In her razor-sharp, no-nonsense style, she articulated a fiercely independent code of survival that defies convention. In fact, her poetry not only invited, but also celebrated the misfits — boisterous children and snarky adults who resist being moulded into the mundane.

Born to the illustrious anthropologist Iravati Karve and the granddaughter of the social reformer D.K. Karve, Gauri Deshpande (1942 - 2003) had big shoes to fill. Unlike her family members, however, she chose the medium of literary expression and excelled as a Marathi and English poet, writer and translator. She also taught at Fergusson College and later at the then University of Pune. Deshpande bared it all in her autobiographical poems and stories: experiences of womanhood, tensions and frustrations with men, and strained relationships with her own children. Although she wrote about the mundane, Deshpande had a distinctive voice which was strongly feminist. She tackled themes of love, abandonment and loneliness with a curious mix of self-critical humour and lyricism.

We hope their musings bring you reflections and comfort in the knowledge that perhaps, we never fully belong anywhere but to ourselves.

Love,

Team Daak

Need a home for your outpourings? Check out this notebook we’ve curated for writers, with quotes and poetry from literary greats of South Asia!

Jiddu Krishnamurti, our beloved philosopher and guide, offers his sage advice on this matter. Chosen at an early age to be the new World Teacher of the Order of the Star, Krishnamurti led a highly regulated and disciplined life. However, soon after assuming the role for which he had been groomed his entire life, he renounced the title and dissolved the organisation with his powerful declaration: “I maintain that Truth is a pathless land, and you cannot approach it by any path whatsoever, by any religion, by any sect.” This set the tone for much of Krishnamurti’s reflections and teachings, emphasising that the formation of any sort of organisation can be detrimental to realising one's individual truth.

Another philosopher in the guise of a poet, Allama Iqbal, was also a seeker and student of the truth of the self. Iqbal’s poetry is rich with philosophy, particularly his exploration of khudi or the self. The philosophy of khudi leaves man pondering over the understanding and realisation of his own self in comparison to the creator, marking the beginning of a truly spiritual journey. While difficult to describe in a single word, its synonyms range from ego and selfhood to self, but none quite capture its essence. At its core, khudi begins with knowing God, knowing oneself, and knowing the universe.

Ultimately, embracing truth demands courage and introspection. As we navigate this complex and confusing world, may our commitment to understanding and trusting ourselves lead us closer to uncovering the truth.

Love,

Team Daak

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One such figure if Ghalib, arguably the most well-known Urdu poet, who is oft quoted in Bollywood as well as in daily life. His poetry has a universal appeal as he talks of love, longing, the powers of intoxication. Yet, few know of the wit, humour and dexterity of his letter writing. Fewer still, know of his love for mangoes. Many seasons of mangoes have come and gone but ballads about his love for the sumptuous fruit live on. In quite a few of his letters in the compilation Khutoot e Ghalib (Letters of Ghalib) you will find a mention of mangoes: praise of different varieties, requests for mangoes from friends, gratitude towards someone who sent him a batch and discussions on the troubles of transportation. Read one of these letters.

Another poet who loved the fruit was Akbar Allahabadi (1846−1921), one of the foremost Urdu poets of our time, known for his wit, humour, and social critique. Born as Akbar Hussain in Allahabad, he gained prominence in the literary circles of British India, contributing significantly to the Urdu literary landscape. His wrote on the themes of love, politics and societal issues, blending traditional forms with contemporary concerns. Renowned for his light-hearted style, Allahabadi’s verses reflect the complexities of Indian society during a period of colonial rule. In one of his lighter poems, ​“Aam Nama,” the poet whimsically requests his friend, Munshi Nisar Husain, to send him mangoes instead of love letters or messages from his beloved, prizing it as the most exalted form of pleasure.

But perhaps what is most fascinating is the mango's role beyond literary acclaim, as an effective tool in the realm of politics and diplomacy. In August 1968, during China's Cultural Revolution, Pakistan extended a diplomatic gesture by gifting a crate of mangoes to Chairman Mao Zedong. Although Mao did not eat them himself, he distributed the fruits to workers from the Mao Zedong Thought Propaganda Team, making mangoes an unexpected symbol of goodwill and political strategy, creating what was called the “Mango Fever.”

From poetry to politics, the mango has remained firmly embedded in the culture and ethos of the subcontinent. As you enjoy your favourite varieties this season, savour not only their sweetness but also the rich history and tradition they represent.

Love,

Team Daak

PS - Want to read more poems romancing the mango? Check out this collection on our instagram!

We have a new cheeky collection of Mother’s Day Cards - get your favourite one and put a smile on her face!

Francis Newton Souza (1924 - 2002), often referred to as F. N. Souza or just Souza, is one of the most well-known Indian artists. Interestingly, he first caught the attention of the American art circles not through his paintings, but through an essay “Nirvana of a Maggot” first published in 955. In this essay, Souza traces the journey of a humble maggot (a euphemism for himself) as it grows and changes shape. Souza’s delightfully meandering essay takes us through his origins — a “blooming maggot on a dung heap”— to the man he has become. In between, he touches upon themes like language and expression, conflicting identities, experiments in reclusive life, and perhaps the most important question for any artist: how to authentically give voice and shape to their unique experience of life?

Another artist who expressed his philosophy and politics through his art was M. F. Husain. In 1986, the then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi invited four eminent artists to participate in the proceedings of the parliament as members of Rajya Sabha (Upper House of the Parliament). The “gang of four” comprised Amrita Pritam, R. K. Narayan, Pandit Ravi Shankar and M. F. Husain. While the first three participated actively in the debates and discussions, Husain stayed notoriously silent throughout the six years of his membership (1986 - 92), fervently recording his observations in the form of his characteristic pencil caricatures. However, he did not share the sketches publicly or publish them during his tenure. It was only in 1993 that he published a collection of these lively sketches under the title Sansad Upanishad. Here’s a glimpse of his sketches and his thoughts behind them.

Love,

Team Daak

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Ganesh Pyne (1937-2013) was born in Kolkata and attended the Government College of Art and Craft. Deeply influenced by Abanindranath Tagore, Hals Rembrandt, and Paul Klee, he developed his own contemporary style of "poetic surrealism," blending fantasy with Bengali folklore and mythology. A major influence on his art was the 1946 communal riots in Kolkata, which left thousands dead and wounded. During this time, Pyne first encountered death in the brutally slain corpses on the streets. Subsequently, death became a recurring theme in his art, appearing alongside other dark imagery such as bones and debris.

Bikash Bhattacharjee (1940-2006), fondly remembered as Bikash Babu, was born in Kolkata and grew up in a politically charged atmosphere that significantly impacted his art. His portraits echo the political chaos of his time and its effect on the people, giving them an air of uneasiness while invoking a sense of familiarity. In the early 1970s, Bhattacharjee painted a series called the Doll Series during the height of political turmoil in Bengal, where the Naxalite movement had gripped the state. In these paintings, a doll is used as a central motif, juxtaposing the innocence of a child's plaything with the violence and terror looming in the streets of Kolkata.

Both Ganesh Pyne and Bikash Bhattacharjee remind us that even in the depths of darkness, beauty can be found, challenging us to consider how we can transform our personal and collective struggles into a canvas for reflection and endurance.

Love,

Team Daak

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Or so says Khushal Khan Khattak, an Afghan warrior-poet from the 17th century. Often called the “National Poet of Afghanistan,” his oeuvre spans across genres — from nationalist poetry to the praise of Afghan tribes, a manual on falconry, travelogues, and books on medicine. From among these, the most interesting are his musings on age and youth. These ponderings on youth and age — two things that, according to him, should not be confused with each other, offer valuable lessons. His own “golden summer,” even in old age, is a reminder to live fully and enjoy the gifts of every stage while maintaining youthfulness within.

Another cautionary tale is a short story, “The Need for Sympathy,” by Illindala Saraswati Devi (1918–1998), a Telugu writer and social worker, who wrote about this particular issue long before it began dominating our media channels. In her story, she narrates the experiences of a woman, Bangaramma, who struggles to reconcile the loss of her youth and the newly bestowed status of a grandmother. The constant praise and comments on her beauty and youthfulness both please and unsettle her, leading to a strange disconnection with her physical and relational reality. Even at her daughter’s home, while she fulfils her maternal duties, she continues to feel disconnected from her family, leaving suddenly on a note of ambiguity.

This obsessive attachment to looking young can only generate insecurity and anxiety. Instead, as these writers warn, it is better to focus on true joy and fulfilment. If you’re looking for inspiration, watch this heartwarming song, Hoppípolla, by Icelandic band, Sigur Rós.

With love,

Team Daak

Get this beautiful notebook interspersed with poetry on words, reading and writing for a little inspiration!

Perhaps the first name that comes to mind when we think of exiled poets is Agha Shahid Ali (1949-2001). Shahid Ali was born in Kashmir and educated in Delhi as well as the United States, where he eventually settled and lived until his untimely death. His poems are redolent of memories of his homeland, Kashmir, and a permanent sense of loss — of home, of loved ones and of an identity. In his poem “By the Waters of the Sind,” he talks about the most painful division in the subcontinent between India and Pakistan and reminds us that a river can still tear through man-made boundaries, uniting what has been divided and joining the fates of people on either side of the border. Tied to this division is a story of personal separation, the loss of his mother and his own identity as a son.

Although far removed in time, another exiled poet, Bahadur Shah Zafar, wrote of the loss of home. The glory of the Mughal Empire had already begun a steady decline by the time Bahadur Shah Zafar ascended the throne in 1837. He was well into his sixties and had witnessed the rise of the East India Company from traders to colonialists. Despite that, his court shone in the arts. He gave patronage to a great many poets of Urdu, Farsi, Braj Bhasha, and Punjabi. He himself was a writer and poet, often writing wistful poems about Sufism, the human condition, and his many misfortunes. Later in life, he was exiled to Burma (present-day Myanmar), where he is buried in a tomb that is a Sufi shrine in its own right. His lamentation on not being able to be buried in his home is captured in his heartbreaking poetry.

Perhaps home is not a place at all but a memory of who we were, difficult to recreate and impossible to forget.

With Love,

Team Daak

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Habba Khatoon was a Kashmiri poetess in the 16th century, whose poetry is rich with metaphors of nature, laden with references to flowers, spring, and Kashmir, and weighed down by the longing for her lover. A common woman, she was chosen by the King of Kashmir, Yusuf Shah Chak, who was enchanted by the beauty of her voice and the richness of her rhyme. While the couple spent six blissful years together, Yusuf Shah was summoned to Delhi by Emperor Akbar, who deceived and imprisoned him to compensate for his own military defeat in Kashmir. While Yusuf Shah never saw the light of day again, his beloved Habba pined away for him in a home next to the Jhelum, where she finally lay to rest.

Much like her stylistic predecessor Habba Khatoon, 18th century poet Arnimal's words had an earthy quality, a relevance and place in her time, drawing from reality without the mystical allusions other Kashmiri poets are often known for. Arnimal was married to a renowned poet who flourished during Afghan rule. He, however, was not interested in her, known to abandon her and philander in the world of courtesans. Not wanting to be silent and cast off, she sang of her woes and exposed her husband’s infidelity. She was a woman spurned, and her poetry told tales of her dejection.

There is a silent wisdom in the mere existence of flowers (and all of nature); our enduring references to them are a reminder that even amidst loss and impermanence, beauty can thrive.

Love,

Team Daak

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To me, feminism is the work of unpeeling this face and making the invisible visible. Thankfully, we have women poets who, with their brilliance and eloquence, have made this invisible experience of being a woman visible. I find Eunice de Souza’s poems particularly comforting, especially on days when I feel inadequate or off-track. In her razor-sharp, no-nonsense style, she articulates a fiercely independent code of survival that defies convention. Her poetry not only invites but celebrates all misfits — not just unruly women, but also boisterous children and snarky adults who resist being moulded into the mundane. Her reflections on crushing childhood injustices that taught her the art of survival often give me hope and strength.

In contrast to the more contemporary style of de Souza, I also love the poetry of Mahadevi Verma. With all the characteristic romance and drama of the Chayavad moment, she talks about the roadblocks in her own life and her renewed sense of purpose at each setback. The modernity and relevance of her voice are painfully obvious in light of the personal and professional battles that women continue to fight even today. What is striking to me is the co-existence of contradictions: sweetness mingled with sadness, laughter juxtaposed with ferocity, ambition overlapping with longing.

Feminism is often mistaken for aggression towards men or antipathy to tradition. Hopefully, these poets illuminate that, at its core, feminism is only about the right to choose, to exist as one’s true self, and to have that be enough.

On behalf of Onaiza and myself, a very Happy Women’s Day to all the lovely women in our community.

Love,

Prachi

PS - did you know that you can search and filter posts on our website by different topics? For example, here’s a selection of posts that talk about “womanhood.”

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Kashmiri — a primarily spoken tongue — holds much of its beauty in everyday speech. The ingenuity with which Kashmiris, a once isolated population from up North, string their words and weave their tales, is exceptional. Kashmiri has kept alive its repertoire of proverbs across centuries and with that the thought encoded within, each proverb telling a tale of a period in history or wisdom to hold on to. Read more about Kashmiri proverbs here.

Writer and folklorist, Ghulam Nabi Atash says in his work on folklore that the passing of history and ethics happened “seena ba seena” (from chest to chest/heart to heart/through word of mouth) from one generation to another. He points out instances of how stories from folklore helped construct history for historians in Kashmir. As each regime replaced the other, what persisted was remnants in the vernacular — a local language of the unlettered where transmission happened seena ba seena, and the folk, the people, were the source material for anyone looking to investigate. In more recent times, poetry has been the vessel of choice for resistance and remembrance in Kashmir’s politically fraught landscape.

Mahjoor’s poetry is a prime example. Beyond idyllic depictions of nature, his verses spoke of patriotism, freedom, and unity across religious divides in the face of oppression. His work remains an essential entry point into the socio-political fabric of 20th century Kashmir.

Traces of Kashmir’s Buddhist past also persist in its everyday language. Philosopher M.H. Zafar points out how Buddhist ideas like the concept of suffering and nothingness have quietly endured in Kashmiri aphorisms. They also find their way into fables like Akanandun, a popular folktale many a Kashmiri kid hears growing up. A royal couple wants a child. A yogi grants them a wish that he will give them a child but they will have to return it after twelve years. They readily agree to the yogi’s demands, raising the child with love and affection and slowly fading away the memory of the conditions. When the boy turns twelve, the yogi knocks on their door to have the child back. Paying no heed to their protests and wails, he orders them to cut the boy into pieces, cook his meat and serve it. The family, distraught and destroyed, complies. Eventually, Akanandun comes back to life but the story is Abrahamic in the parallels one can draw and has been rendered into poetry by many Sufi poets. This is a story of detachment and selflessness, for a people from the land of Hindu asceticism and Buddhist renunciation but also an illustration of the Islamic concept of tawakkul or submission before God’s wish, a tale replete with spiritual messages from across traditions.

Mysticism is another thread that runs deep through Kashmiri literary tradition. Nund Reshi or Sheikh Noor ud-Din Wali, also popularly known as Sheikh ul-Alam, was a Kashmiri mystic and often regarded as the patron saint of Kashmiris. In line with the poetic device of his time, he composed shruiks — philosophical and spiritual poetic couplets, either with four or eight verses. Shrukh translates into ​“knot” in Kashmiri and just like a tight knot, his verses need to be untangled to get their full essence. His prophetic verses on environmental consciousness in particular are much quoted.

In her book on the Rajatarangini (a legendary and historical chronicle of the north-western part of Indian sub-continent, particularly the kings of Kashmir), Shonaleeka Kaul writes of a “certain civilizational centrality of storytelling in Kashmir.” For long we have used stories and myth to explain nature and breed a sense of social cohesion. Stories right from the 12th century Rajtarangini have had a didactic quality to them. So, it isn’t a surprise that we find similarities in more recent literature too.

Before I end these musings, I must not forget — you can now sort pieces on the Daak website using language — so, here is the selection of Kashmiri literature we have covered so far.

Until next time!

With love,

Onaiza

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A friendship that embodied both these potentials and pitfalls of friendship was the one shared by the doyens of Urdu Literature, Saadat Hasan Manto and Ismat Chughtai. Fortunately, being writers, both memorialised their friendship and their love for each other in writing. Prompted by a fan’s speculation on why they never got married — which Manto called a “ludicrous idea” — he conducted an examination of their relationship in an essay simply titled “Ismat Chughtai.” In recounting night-long arguments, family celebrations, travels, and tribulations, Manto offered a rich and layered slice of his friendship. Despite being keenly aware of her faults and eccentricities, which he liberally pointed out to her in private, he remained fiercely loyal in public, defending her against all critics.

Through literary and commercial success, court cases, births, deaths, and migration, they held each other in a sort of critical fondness, the kind we reserve for those closest to our hearts. In her essay “My Friend, My Enemy,” Chughtai also reflected on her troubled friendship with Manto and paid tribute to her closest intellectual ally whom she loved and hated in equal measure. She recounted their stimulating conversations, which often oscillated between serious philosophical concerns and crude, mundane matters. What remained constant was a call and response — an intellectual ping pong that allowed them to test their ideas and theories against a loving yet unforgiving critic.

However, Manto’s move to Pakistan brought a streak of personal and professional misfortunes, which put an irreversible strain on their friendship. What remained were memories and the undeniable imprints on each other’s life and work.

Not all friendships are meant to last; however, they are meant to be cherished for all the ways in which they have enriched us. So, if you have a friend or friends who have shared laughter, ideas, ideals, and perspectives, let them know what they mean while they are still in your life.

Love,

Team Daak

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One interesting example of this transgression is Mohammad Sanaullah Dar (1912–1949), better known as Meeraji, an Urdu poet of Kashmiri-Punjabi origin. His curious choice of pen name, “Meeraji,” has a lovely backstory; legend has it that he fell in love with a Bengali woman, Meera Sen, in Lahore, and his devotion was such that, despite social mockery, he embraced her name in his writing. Like his name, his personality, lifestyle, and sartorial choices were also unconventional for his time. He adopted a bohemian lifestyle, wandering from place to place while sporting long hair, a twirled moustache, and hoops in his ears. In his poetic style, too, he broke tradition and became a pioneer of blank and free verse in Urdu poetry.

On the other end of the spectrum lies the quiet strength of a love that transcends the personal. For most couples, the concerns of the larger world hold little value. Savitribai Phule and Jyotiba, however, represent a different breed of lovers. Savitribai was married to Jyotiba at the tender age of nine. Driven by a keen desire to emancipate women through education, Jyotiba decided to first educate his wife, even against the wishes of his own parents. Together, they established India’s first school for girls in Bhidewada, Pune, in 1848. Despite the harassment they faced daily, they persisted in their mission and graduated their first class with nine girl students. In her letters to Jyotiba, Savitribai often describes her struggles and expresses indignation at the social injustices rampant in society. Yet, beneath it all is a deep, unspoken admiration for Jyotiba and a firm commitment to the cause that unites them.

Whether rooted in passion or shared ideals, love demands courage. And those who answer its call overcome even the most unrelenting divisions.

Love,

Team Daak

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