Nestled in the lap of gigantic mountains, crisscrossed by a gentle Nallah on front side and run by 14 feet wide macadamised road , my village, Gadole, is situated 12 kilometers from the Tehsil headquarters in Kokernag and 40 kilometers from the district headquarters in Anantnag. The village comprises of two distinct sections: Gadole Payeen or Bon Gadole, characterized by densely packed houses and apple orchards and Gadole Bala or Her Gadole, marked by sparse and unplanned housing.According to the 2011 census, the village spans 690.8 hectares, with 1,612 houses built on the land. Although the number of houses has increased significantly since then, the village remains home to 12,540 inhabitants, known for their simplicity, honesty, and authenticity. While modernization has undoubtedly impacted the local culture, I firmly believe that certain traditional aspects continue to thrive. One such enduring custom is the evening gathering around a roadside fire, where locals come together to share stories and warmth from a humble tin fire pot. Every year, with the onset of winter and snowfall, the men of our village gather at the Herm-adda, near the erstwhile upper bus stop, to warm up and socialize. As the cold reaches its peak and work slows down, they congregate in the evenings, huddling around a fire burning in a tin pot. Though the fire ignites in the tin pot with the onset of Chilli-kalan but practically the preparation for the tin fire and congregation start much before in late November or early December. First of all, fuel is collected and hoarded at a previously selected place. Care is taken that the fuel remains dry and protected from moisture. The fuel for the fire is creatively sourced from discarded materials, including scrapped paper sheets,tattered remnants of worn-out clothes, fabric scraps from tailors,dried leaves,straw,dried twigs and branches. Once the necessary amount of fuel is gathered , a tin pot of almost 3 feet height 2 feet length and 2 feet width is carefully chosen and modified here and there to suit the occasion precisely. The tin pot is then stored away with the fuel. When it finally snows and branches of trees sag under its weight, the cold intensifies. World looks white, serene and silent. People are caged inside the beautiful white bars. The water freezes and turns into gigantic white sugar cubes which are slippery like the skin of fish. Paths become dangerous pistes . As the evening chill intensifies and mercury plummets, the local male folk converge into a gathering upon the designated place. The tin pot and fuel are brought forth, lit and ignited, casting a warm glow over the assembly.
“While modernization has undoubtedly impacted the local culture, I firmly believe that certain traditional aspects continue to thrive.”
The rising smoke dances and serves a becon, inviting stragglers to join the gathering. As the fire crackles, flames dance and embers redden the attendees lose themselves to the tin pot, warmth and camaraderie . Time loses its weight. The surroundings reek of the fire, flames, smoke, warmth, love and laughter. As listless as a lump of dough, the members become mesmerised, their faces aglow as they engage themselves in lively discussions. Diverse themes emerge and engage the congregation ranging from politics, religion, science, farming, spring, to love , wars, orchards, books, folklore . Conversations flow effortlessly and relaxed atmosphere encourage open sharing of thoughts. Attendees speak their hearts out and share their deepest joys and terrible sorrows with each other. They seek help, offer support and extend helping hands to one another. This fosters the unshakable sense of oneness and weaves them together in a tapestry of empathy, sympathy and unity. Meanwhile, young folk of the crowd secretly whisper about latest Bollywood release and mentioning a Hollywood movie is considered a shame and contrite. People here are so simple that to them every English movie contains some sensitive content. People can crack any joke but it has to be polite and respectful. Lewd humour is strictly forbidden and uttering one may force your gathering ostracism, directly inculcating and fostering a refined culture of healthy values and good principles. The humble tin pot has, thus, transcended its practical purpose to become a powerful symbol of unity and togetherness for our villagers. Its warm flames have fostered a sense of synergy and harmony, bridging gaps and healing rifts. Even those who may have been at odds just moments before find themselves reunited, as if their differences had never existed. The tin pot’s magic lies in its ability to bring people together, reminding us that community and social connection are the greatest warmth of all. May the fire of the tin pot continue to burn bright and may it serve a beacon of unity and harmony for generations to come.
(The author is a teacher. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
Bashir Ahmad Dar
[email protected]
