Sorrow of the Snows

If one has to sum up the crux of Upendranath Ashk’s novella Sorrow of the Snows, translated from Hindi by Jai Ratan in a few words, I would choose ‘no land for the poor’. The opening chapter with the line - ‘Whether the boatman or peasant, shepherd or pandit , they were all steeped in poverty’ reaffirms my understanding. 

Hasandin, the protagonist, stays with his family consisting of his wife Yasman, son Idu and nephew Mamdoo in a three-roomed ramshackle house in the village of Parezpur, a little away from Gulmarg. A small-time peasant with a thin strip of land, he doubles up as a guide/syce and ferries tourists using his three horses from the Tangmarg pony stand. He spends more time in reverie than in prayers, always dreaming of making enough money to marry his only son to his elder brother’s daughter at Baba Pamdin shrine. It’s a tooth and nail fight to earn customers as both intense competition with fellow guides and ‘difficult to please’ police officers had to be tackled. 

The Britishers who always spent a month or more in Gulmarg, also known for being extremely benevolent in payments and offering bakshish, had left the country. Tourism remained the mainstay but Indians in this newly independent nation neither had the time/leisure to slowly soak up the beauty of Kashmir nor the intent to offer generous tips to the guides here. 

Hasandin’s morning prayers appear to favour him one day as the Khanna family from Delhi arrive at Tangmarg with an intent to visit Gulmarg. Hasandin works hard to impress his clients and even prepares an itinerary to other prominent tourist spots like Khilanmarg, Afrabat, the frozen lake and Alpatthar in the hope of earning a good sum of money. However, the fact that Khanna sahib is super stingy dawns upon him slowly before a final calamity strikes and Hasandin has more to lose, nothing to gain from this entire venture. 

Ashk ensures that the sympathy Hasandin earns is just as much as the despise earned by Khanna Sahib. We readers are gifted a virtual tour of Kashmir, thanks to his vivid imagery. Apart from the plight of the poor, their daily toil to make ends meet, we learn how tribesmen from across the border plundered places from Srinagar to Gulmarg, threatening the very livelihood of the locals. Religious prejudices are touched upon when Khanna sahib forces Hasandin to have tea with him at a Sikh’s stall instead of handing him an amount from his entitled pay and allowing him to have tea with other coolies and syces; it is noteworthy how this single episode works as a flashpoint in Hasandin’s head.

When asked what inspired Ashk to become a writer coming from a family that had no literary tradition, he replies ‘poor health, extreme sensitivity and the brutally maleficent atmosphere of the house’, the PS /insights section at the end (like in all Harper Perennial editions) offers a fine opportunity to know the author more, a delightful bonus to the readers.

Well translated, Sorrow of the Snows is a poignant portrayal of the systemic oppression the poor face in our society, set in post independent Kashmir still largely unmarred by religious terrorism and militancy.