Discover Top Posts Tagged with #baramulla

Ranbir Kapoor's upcoming film Ramayana hasn't even come out, yet some moron on letterboxd categorised it as a "propaganda movie". Look at all the films that are in this "propaganda" list. There's even Baramulla (this film is about the Kashmiri Hindus ethnic cleansing) and Dhurandhar (this film is about a spy infiltrating in the underworld of Pakistan) on that list. Indian leftist marxist sickularist liberandos have lost their minds. Letterboxd "cinephiles" are the new tumblr crowd.

#desiblr #hindublr #hinduphobia #india #aditya dhar #baramulla #dhurandhar #bollywood #indian leftist marxist secularists are unique assholes

So I just finished watching Baramulla on Netflix and it literally broke me. Please watch it. It’s so haunting and heartbreaking.

#baramulla #Netflix #Kashmiri hindus #Kashmiri pandits #hindublr #hinduphobia #hinduism #india #desiblr #desi tumblr

BARAMULLA (2025) dir. aditya suhas jambhale

Spring Arrival 🌸🌸🌸

#artists on tumblr #homestuck #space day #kashmir #srinagar #baramulla #sky

The Baramulla Connection.

I was born in Srinagar to a family that hails from Baramulla District. My parents are closely related. My paternal grandfather came to Srinagar in 1955 and since then we've been living here although we do have significant business interests in Baramulla. I don't even know if I should still class myself as someone from the North. My maternal side on the other hand does have business interests in Srinagar with hotels in Raj Bagh, they however chose to remain in Baramulla.

Baramulla from the moment you enter it from the Srinagar border, you get a country vibe. I have driven on many roads across the country, but nothing matches driving your car through that poplar alley in peak summers or autumn. The woodsmoke, the evening breeze. It's truly magical.

I did my lower kindergarten from Srinagar and it was around this time my father was kidnapped by militants for a ransom. That's when my family decided it was better to keep me away from all these happenings and sent me to my maternal grandfather's place. I got admission to St. Joseph School Baramulla, one of the most famous schools in Jammu and Kashmir. I don't exactly remember how I must have felt at that time being away from home, I must admit though looking back at things now it must not have been very very good. However the base for my education was set in Baramulla and I am really grateful that I got to spend my early years in a school where it's very very difficult to get admission otherwise.

The biggest bright spot about those early years was my Naana Ji who I dearly called as ''bade papa'' or simply ''Papa''. He was a businessman who started from the scratch and made a name for himself. It wouldn't be wrong to say that he has contributed more to my perspective on life than my own parents have and I am absolutely proud about it. He would make me listen to BBC on Radio. He would ask me to give a brief of the news I read on Newspapers and it is him who inculcated in me the habit to ask questions about everything. His outlook on life was very very broad.

People go to places like Maldives, Goa, Sri Lanka now still hesitant to take their families. He took his daughter (my mother) to these places in the mid 80's when she just had hit the teenage. I still haven't been to these places still :P But no, this just shows he was way ahead of his time. Way way ahead. Some of my life's greatest memories are with him. Every afternoon, he would put on one of his gowns which he had imported from Europe and take me for a walk to the place in picture above. It is famously called as Jetty around that area. It is just 2 minutes walk from my maternal home. We would sit here at this old platform which had been abandoned and he would explain to me the meaning of life through his experiences and travels. We would throw the pebbles in the river, we would see the kingfisher catching the fish, we could see the sun setting down amidst the sound of the Dove's coo and this more than anything is the greatest memory of my life.

One particular incident that I clearly remember is sometimes he would take me for a longer walk to this canal which would supply water to the nearest rice fields. he would hold my hand while I walked in the middle of the canal which was shallow. I once stepped on a bog while walking in the canal and my slippers got stuck there in the mud. I had to walk barefooted home. I remember going to the same place again after I think 14 years in 2018. The canal had dried up as the rice fields had been converted into Apple orchards which do not require regular irrigation. I decided to dig deep in the canal to look for those lost slippers and I found them. I absolutely found them. I came to Nana Ji's room with those slippers and asked him if he recognised them. He didn't. By this time his memory had become weak as his cancer had relapsed with more aggression but as soon as I reminded him of that day, he smiled and kissed my hands. This is something I will cherish for the rest of my life. Those questions, those briefings, those walks and strolls, those drives to Sheeri where he would make me watch the fishermen catch their fish after having cast their nets for days and then explain to me the difficulties in earning livelihood, this is something that I will never ever forget. Memories made with him will forever be etched in my memory.

I came back to Srinagar in 2005 and got admission in prominent school here. I got educated, I did LL.B from Amity University in Noida. I lost touch with Baramulla in between all this. My grandfather passed away in 2019 August. I met him just two days before he departed us. I could not attend his funeral or see him for last time again as I was in Delhi and this remains a forever regret.

From my paternal side, there's nothing much to remember about my time in Baramulla because we are settled in Srinagar for nearly 70 years now. My paternal origins in Baramulla are very humble. I have heard stories and they are emotional stories. We were the landlords owning and still own lands across the Baramulla Country (kandi as it is called locally) My great-grandfather due to a petty dispute had thrown his first wife (my great grandmother) out of his home with his four children and married again. She used to work on a spinning wheel to make the ends meet and feed her four children, youngest of whom was my grandfather. Seeing the hardships that his mother had to endure, he quit studies by the time he was 10 and then started bringing the firewood from the jungle to sell it in the market. He was then hired as a worker at a local bakery in Srinagar where he learnt the art of baking. Baking is an art for me. His salary in those days was 6 Rupees per month which after managing the expenditures, he would give to his mother. So the story goes that my great grandmother had managed to save 70 Rupees. The access to our village was limited and one either had to take a pony or walk for 14KM to reach there from the last motorable road. This is when my great grandmother spent those 70 rupees to buy a horse for my grandfather just so when he would come home at the end of the month, she would be waiting for her son on the horse at the last motorable road to travel to our village to make sure he does not travel those 14Km on foot. Within no time my grandfather had become a huge success. His buisness was shining. He was purchasing properties left right and centre. His name featured in then Times of India with a news that a man called Qutub Ud Din Khan is so rich in Kashmir that he has purchased a property in Baramulla for 50,000 rupees. But two tragedies happened in quick time which would dampen the excitement. The horse which my great grandmother had bought after saving that money amidst all that struggle she had to endure was nicked in the end and my great grandmother passed away too just a year after my grandfather's marriage and she could never see the good times properly. My great grandfather mistreated my great grandmother and she had penned a very emotional feminist song about the tragedies she faced. I don't exactly remember the verses of it, I'd ask my Amma to tell me about them but I remember hearing it for the first time and my eyes just teared up. I visited my ancestral home in 2015 for the first time in Laridora hamlet of Baramulla district and as I reached the top floor, I saw the spinning wheel which my great grandmother used to spin to make ends meet. I absolutely broke down in tears. Those who had seen my great grandmother remember her as a woman of dignity. One who never gave in. Her fingers were dislocated and disfigured by constantly spinning the wheel. My great grandmother was a feminist even before the term became mainstream. I had gone to my village in a posh SUV with all the comforts of life. It was a very emotional experience thinking about where I actually came from. If I ever feel I am becoming arrogant or things are getting to my head, I remember that spinning wheel and it keeps me grounded.

Ever since I have come back to Kashmir after finishing my LL.B, my connection with Baramulla is getting re-established, albiet this time more on the lines of business. We have two shopping centres under construction there and by the time they are ready, I am sure I'd be spending a lot of time in Baramulla again. I would like to build a hut there on top of the mountain along the creek and feel the vibe like I did with my Nana Ji. Those were the absolute times. For that period between 1998-2005, I'd just like to remember nothing else but the part which I spent with my Nana Ji. He has inspired me.

I am hoping this time my connection with Baramulla doesn't get lost in time. I am soon opening a grocery store there and there's a lot more to come, but before that, I'd like you guys to pray for my health. My spine is back to behaving abnormally again causing me immense agony in my right leg. I may have to go under the knife to get it fixed finally. I am scared but I am also motivated.

Until then, bye bye.