#ShangriLaInShadows

[everythingkashmir]

Led’s Lense

The Other Kashmir

A Valley’s Physical Graffiti

By Faisul Yaseen

In the Himalayas, where the murmurs of the Jhelum weave through the lush valley, Kashmir has been a muse of poets and painters. Its name invokes both enchantment and anguish, a duality reflected in Led Zeppelin’s iconic song, Kashmir. Written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant with contributions from John Bonham over a period of 3 years with lyrics dating to 1973, the song featured on their sixth studio album Physical Graffiti in 1975. This timeless ode transcends physical geography, yet its mystical allure inadvertently mirrors the very soul of Kashmir.

It would seem rather bold, and even a little farcical, to compare Led Zeppelin’s ‘Kashmir’ with Kashmir valley. Yet tracing how the song born in the deserts of Morocco finds an uncanny kinship with a paradise mired in its own metaphoric deserts spurns curiosity.

Verse 1: Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face

If the sun could speak, it might recount the shadows it has witnessed in Kashmir. Led Zeppelin’s yearning for the sun’s warmth feels alien to a valley where winters are not just meteorological but political, where warmth is siphoned by fear that has reduced its famed sunlight to a pale glow that barely pierces the haze, casting a chilling pall over a land that once basked in idyllic harmony.

Chorus: I am a traveller of time and space

The stories in Kashmir are great works of fiction, sold with the finesse of the best of salesmen. Tourism hoardings show lakes as pristine and houseboats as inviting travellers to rediscover paradise. But the real travellers of time and space in Kashmir are not Instagram influencers but locals wandering in search of existence.

Governance in Kashmir functions on paradoxes - the claustrophobic presence contrary to the wide open landscapes. For every tourist sipping Kehwa on a Shikara, there is a youth piecing together the fragments of his shattered life. The spaces may be the same but the experiences are universes apart.

Bridge: My Shangri-La under the summer moon

Kashmir is Led Zeppelin’s Shangri-La, the mythical utopia nestled in towering peaks. Utopias are subjective, though. One man’s heaven is another man’s hell or purgatory. The beautiful valley becomes cruel irony for its denizens, who usually cannot savour its magnificence because it’s always reminding them of its perils.

All the rhetoric about Kashmir sounds almost hollow. Promises ring as empty as the deserted streets. In this dystopian Shangri-La, progress is measured not by prosperity but by publicity. New malls are inaugurated. Old memories erased.

Verse 2: Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails

In Kashmir, the winds carry stories instead of sails. The winds carry the whispered prayers of a generation that has known nothing more than nothingness. The winds also carry the spirit of the people. Art adorns the walls. Poetry and music flourish. And, youth navigate censored spaces to tell their stories. Under relentless hopelessness, the spirit does not break.

Coda: When I am on my way, when I see

How many moons away is Kashmir from its road? This is a haunting refrain that never ceases ringing around the region.

When one beholds, Led Zeppelin puts forth a dreamy vision. What do we see when we behold Kashmir? A crown jewel? A problematic periphery? A land to own? People to love? All such answers decide the region’s dismal destinies.

The Unfinished Symphony

Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir ends with a sweeping, open conclusion, just like the region itself: untamed and mysterious. The music reflects the Valley’s breathtaking panorama. However, the underlying tensions and the lived reality of its people is another story. Rober Plant’s vocals and Jimmy Page’s guitar lines echo the paradox of its beauty and hopelessness. Kashmiris are left to wring out their purgatory alone, their voices buried in the cacophony.

Encore

Perhaps Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir should be the anthem adopted for the Valley. It is after all an attention-grabbing song. The majestic orchestration could go with the snowy passes and evocative lyrics could narrate the daily grind of Kashmiri life. If nothing else, it would be a fitting irony for a region where beauty is wrecked.

Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir is a call to rise above the mundane. It is a hymn to transcendence. However, the valley it shares a name with is still waiting for its transcendence. Until that day, Kashmir will remain an unfinished melody, its notes heavy with longing and defiance, resonating against the mountains that keep its secrets and sorrows.

Greater Kashmir