Once we enter the fortified locality of Hawal in Sringar, near the Hari Parbath, the scenery and landscape changes drastically. Women walking around clad in Chuba (traditional Tibetan attire), Tibetan restaurants churning out traditional delicacies and children coming out of schools, are some of the ubiquitous sights in this small hamlet in Srinagar which can be easily called ‘Mini Lhasa.’
Despite the moniker, the question is: Do the people of this hamlet actually identify as Tibetan?
This small group of people, the Tibetan Muslims in Kashmir, have been living in Hawal and Eidgah area of Srinagar and battling with the nuances, ambiguities, and inevitable ‘othering’ tags of dissimilar identities for quite long.
The Kashmiris consider this community as Tibetans.
However, before 1959 when they were living in Lhasa, they were considered Muslim foreigners.
On the other hand, the community itself emphatically believes themselves to be Kashmiri and consider the place as their motherland.
In Tibet, they were called “Khache”, meaning Kashmiris, a term later used for all the Muslims in that area.
In this conflicting identity battle, a couplet by Ghalib comes to mind and seems fitting for a community, which despite proclaiming an undying allegiance to the land they are living in (or have lived in), is still considered foreign.
“Maiñ bhī muñh meñ zabān rakhtā huuñ kaash pūchho ki mudda.ā kyā hai (I too have a voice, only if you’d ask what’s the matter.)
The relationship between Kashmir and Lhasa goes back to the 13th century, when traders from Kashmir visited and worked in Tibet.
The 5th Dalai Lama gave Muslims from Kashmir, Ladakh, Nepal, Central Asia, the permit and land to settle in Lhasa.
This group was always considered outsiders in Tibet, to the extent that when the 1962 Sino-Tibet conflict started, they were given white flags to reinforce their foreigner status.
About 350 families residing in Hawal now trace their ancestry to Kashmir.
However, in 1959, at the time of the Tibetan Uprising, many Tibetean Muslims fled to safety.
“It was the month of Ramadhan, and we heard some kind of noise and announcement outside. At first I thought it was the call for sehri, but when I peeped out, something else was happening altogether. I saw people dying in front of me. I saw our animals running up and down in fear,” recalls local resident Fatima Beghum who was 12 years old at the time of the occupation.
Kashmiris treated us with so much love and they welcomed us with open hearts, why wouldn’t they? We are one of them after all.Ms Haleema, a resident who migrated from Tibet to India in 1961.
The only evidence of their Kashmiri identity is a white paper issued by the government of India in which they recognise Kashmiri Tibetans and Ladakhi Tibetans as citizen of India.
However, the people rely on the oral tradition passed on through generations about their roots to Kashmir.
Masood Butt, a supervisor in the local Tibetan school, recalls, “We came to India with almost all of our valuables and a good amount of cash. We stayed in Kalimpong for a while, but then our elders wanted to settle in Kashmir, the Kashmir they were originally from.”
Koul Sahib was the India liaison officer back then. He warned us to go anywhere in India but not Kashmir. Maybe because he was well aware of the geopolitical conditions of the place and anticipated the troubled future. But who could have convinced our grandfathers, who finally got a chance to settle back in their homeland. Religion was another reason that they decided to settle in Kashmir.Masood Butt, supervisor at a local Tibetan school.
Although, the Tibetan Muslims are Indian citizen with an Indian passport, the ones living in Kashmir do not possess a domicile certificate, which means they are not able to enjoy certain amenities that come with this status.
Recalling her migration from Tibet to India through Sikkim, Ayesha Jan talks about how they spent everything on initial accommodations in hotels and food and after a few weeks they realised that they had run out of cash and valuables.
“When we came to Kashmir, we stayed in hotels and those guys charged us an exorbitant amount. After that, we were living in small shanties near the Eidgah until a permanent land was given to us here in Hawal.”
The Tibetans renew the lease of this land in every 20 years. Tibetan Muslim Youth Federation takes care of legal and logistical works in the Tibetan Colony.
Nazir Khazi, head of the federation, recalls “I have also studied in Tibetan school. Those days, we used to be on the other side of this road, in a temporary building of four rooms. Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah helped us in getting the land for the Tibetan School you see now. For me, this school is a return gift to Kashmir for hosting us and giving us a heart-warming welcome during our hard times.”
The Tibetan School records 80 percent local students and only 20 percent Tibetan ‘repatriates’, the term Khazi uses to denote the Kashmiri Tibetans.
In terms of livelihood, most of the male folks in Tibetan colony are involved in tilla embroidery work and the women knit woollen clothes which they sell into Ladakh and Kashmir.
On economic opportunities and disparity, Khazi states, “There is a lot economic disparity amongst us. Few of us who managed to start a business in Ladakh, Nepal and other places are doing well. But there are few who are involved in menial works and are facing a lot of economic hardships.”
Fatima Begum becomes visibly emotional recalling her times in Lhasa and while describing the beautiful house with a garden she used to play in, the cows and hens they had.
“We have nothing here. I don’t even have a single piece of jewellery. We spent everything. I wish we could go and see our Lhasa one day again,” Begum recalls.
For the current generation, neither the cause of Tibet nor the movement in Kashmir holds any relevance.
“I have a sentiment attached to Tibet, Dalai Lama, and his struggle, however, our kids are not aware of this and none of us even sensitises them of their political history,” local resident Masood Butt shares on the younger generation of Tibetan Muslims.
The political baggage of the past is not shared among the younger generation. The only purpose of their life is to survive and live comfortably in Kashmir and to make a prosperous future for themselves.
Even though, most of the families have integrated well into Kashmiri culture, they have tried their best to retain and preserve their own culture.
Ayesha Jan says, “We start our Eid with a bowl of Thukpa, and our lunch spread is more Tibetan and less Kashmiri.” Most of the houses are adorned with Tibetan carpets, utensils, etc.
“In our weddings, we now have Kashmiri cuisine. However, our elders are strict about certain things. Unlike usual Kashmiri weddings, our dishes are limited to 4 or 5. Our local Kashmiri neighbours provide us their house space during any function if it is required,” said Nasir Khazi.
On their Tibetan roots and identity, and the larger Tibetan tradition and leaders, Masood Butt states, “Although we are Muslims, the Dalai Lama doesn’t discriminate. He treats everyone related to Tibet equally. We do not come under the Tibetan refugee administrative apparatus, but still the Dalai Lama has provided considerable financial help for the school.”
Although, the Tibetan Muslims have made Kashmir their home, the nostalgic reminiscence of the past in Tibet often comes back, especially among the older generation.
“We are in pardes (foreign land). I miss my home in Lhasa, the gardens, the cows, my friends and school. But we have no option now but to live here and die here. This too is our home, but Lhasa felt more home than Kashmir.”
(Nawal Ali Watali holds Master’s in International Relations from South Asian University, Delhi, and is a freelance photojournalist. She is from Jammu and Kashmir and is passionate about photography and travelling. She can be reached at http://peaceandpyjamas.wordpress.com and @peaceandpyjamas on Instagram.)
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