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The Silk Roads Shadow: A Family's Quest for a lost home

  • RK News By RK News
  • Comments 0
  • 26 Sep 2025

    SYED NISSAR H GILANI    The letter arrived in the summer of 1964, a brittle, five-week-old ghost of a message from Rawalpindi. Heavily censored and bearing the marks of a journey across a newly drawn border, it brought my father the devastating news of his father's passing. S. Syed Ahmad Gilani, a man he had not seen since childhood, had succumbed to a cardiac arrest while en route to Murree, a brief escape from the scorching Punjab heat. A long-trusted friend from Kashmir, who had accompanied him on his journey, performed the final, heartbreaking duty of bringing his body to downtown Rawalpindi for last rites. ​That condolence letter informed us that hundreds of Kashmiri migrants had joined the "Nimaz-i-jinaza," a testament to the community he had found in a land so far from home. Among them were notable figures like Mirwaiz Moulvi Muhammad Ahmad, son of Mirwaiz Molvi Muhammad Yousuf Sahib, and several local officials. The final burial costs, a mere Rs. 160, were humbly met from the deceased’s own modest savings. ​My grandfather, a man defined by a life of perpetual transition, had left Srinagar in the early 1930s to join his own father, Haji S. Ghulam Muhammad, who had settled in Yarkand, Central Asia, to cultivate a flourishing carpet business. It was there that Haji Ghulam Muhammad Gilani, a political representative for the British imperial government, was conferred with the esteemed title of "Khan Bahadur" in recognition of his service.    He accumulated a vast fortune, amassing wealth and owning a staggering 2,400 acres of land in Kashghar and Yarkand. Yet, even this grand success could not quench his yearning. He was a son of Kashmir, and though he spent his glorious years far away, his soul yearned to return to the Vale. ​Tragically, he breathed his last before the Communist takeover in 1949. Fortunately, the Khan Bahadur had never severed his ties with his motherland, providing healthy financial assistance to his family in Kashmir and ensuring his children were educated at the reputed Islamia High School in Srinagar. ​The Communist takeover proved a final, crushing blow to the family’s legacy in Yarkand. Prejudice against non-Chinese grew rapidly, and foreigners were given little time to leave the country. Deportation with penalties was announced, and properties were swiftly confiscated. Staying became both difficult and meaningless.    My grandfather, with a heavy heart, migrated to Gilgit via the treacherous Silk Route, accompanied by his younger brothers and their families. In the space of a few days, the labor of a lifetime was destroyed, and he was further saddened by his failure to persuade his wife of Chinese origin and their daughter to accompany him. ​The journey was fraught with unimaginable tragedy. His younger brother, Syed Ghulam Qadir Gilani, who had served as the Imam and Khateeb of the Jama Mosque in Kashghar, was killed at point-blank range by the Chinese army near Khurram Cheey, on the Pakistan border. At Gilgit, the Government of Pakistan offered a small solace, allotting five acres of land to each family who had been displaced by the Chinese.    Despite forging friendships with locals and fellow Kashmiri migrants, my grandfather felt helpless, unprotected, and profoundly struggled to adjust. His desire to join his family in Kashmir grew more desperate with each passing day. His attempts to cross the Line of Actual Control via the Neelam Valley met a devastating end.    A tragic road accident claimed the life of his well-known Kashmiri friend and guide, Abdul Rahim Bhat of Magam, Handwara, on the spot, leaving my grandfather utterly shell-shocked. In a final, desperate plea, he sought a valid visa through the Indian Embassy in Pakistan, but was cruelly refused. The officials, haunted by the ghost of the 1962 Sino-Indian War, did not accept him as a Kashmiri. In their eyes, he was merely Chinese, and he became one of the many casualties of this lingering phobia. ​In 1964, a flicker of hope appeared when he met Sheikh Muhammad Abdullah and his entourage in Rawalpindi. Late Mubarak Shah Naqashbandi, a retired session judge and a close relation, tried to plead his case with the Indian embassy officials. But with the untimely death of Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru in May 1964, the Sheikh and his company had to return to Kashmir, their mission unaccomplished. These events shattered my grandfather, and he died a sad man, with the weight of a broken life upon his soul. ​On his person, a piece of paper bearing the couplets of the last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar, was recovered. Its words captured the essence of his unfulfilled life: ​“Umareey daraz maang kur layee they char din, Duoo inteezar mey katgayee, duo Arizoo mey.” ​(I had asked for a long life of four days; two were spent in waiting, and two in longing.) ​A Legacy of Resilience While one journey ended in longing, another found its footing in new soil. My grandfather’s younger brother, Syed Abdullah Gilani, who had accompanied him on the migration, later opted for Jordanian citizenship under the United Nations' refugee plan.    He passed away in 2005, but his legacy lives on through his sons, who are now doing extremely well in the tile and other businesses. A testament to their resilience and success, they have married mostly Palestinian and Turkish women and remain immensely proud of their Kashmiri origin.    My wife and I were fortunate to meet this remarkable family in Amman in December 2004. We felt a profound sense of pride in their unwavering spirit and the success they have built from their humble beginnings as refugees. Their story proves that while borders can divide families, they cannot extinguish the flame of heritage or the will to thrive.    (The writer is a former civil servant. Feedback: nisargilani57748@gmail.com)

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