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In the crisp morning air of Kashmir, the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the earthy aroma of the surrounding hills. As I set out to fulfill my sister’s request for bread for her hungry daughter, I felt a sense of anticipation. I was heading to the local bread maker in Palhalan, a village renowned for its rich traditions and vibrant community spirit, where the rhythms of the past still thrive.
The village bakery was a modest establishment, built of bricks and clay, with walls adorned with rustic plaster—a testament to the old Kashmiri way of living. Its tandoor—a traditional clay oven—glowed with the warm embers of firewood. This was no ordinary bakery; it was a sanctuary of flavors and stories, where the art of making bread had been passed down through generations. I approached the shop, my heart light with the promise of fresh ‘Tchuchvor’ (traditional Kashmiri bread) relished with ‘Nun Chai’ (traditional Kashmiri tea).
As I entered, my gaze was drawn to two elderly men working side by side, their hands skillfully shaping the dough. Wrinkles etched their faces like the folds of an ancient map, telling tales of time, friendship, and dedication. I couldn’t help but admire the harmony between them, the way they moved in unison, their laughter mingling with the crackle of the tandoor.
Curiosity nudged me closer, and I asked them how long they had been in this trade. With twinkling eyes, they shared that they had been baking together for over forty years. “This is our life,” one of them said, a hint of pride in his voice. “We are happy to keep this tradition alive.”
I marveled at their camaraderie. In today’s world, it was rare to see such lasting friendships, especially in a fast-paced society that often pushed the elderly aside. Here were two friends who had weathered the storms of life together, finding joy in the simple act of creating something nourishing for their community.
“Isn’t it time to rest?” I asked, noticing their aged hands still deftly kneading the dough. They exchanged a knowing smile, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Rest is for those who have nothing left to give,” one replied, “but we are still full of life and stories to share.”
As I watched them work in that old shop, with the chilly morning air wrapping around me and the warmth of the tandoor enveloping the room, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for their existence. Their laughter echoed in the bakery, a reminder that happiness could be found in the most ordinary of tasks. They spoke of the changes in the world, lamenting how modernity often overshadowed the love for family and friends. “People don’t cherish their loved ones like they used to,” one reflected, “but we have each other, and that’s enough.”
In Palhalan, where traditions are kept alive and community ties run deep, these two men represented a beautiful continuity—a link to a simpler time where friendships blossomed and love prevailed. Our village is known for its warmth, bravery, and the care its people show for one another, making it a truly special place. Here, the morning is incomplete without a cup of ‘Noon Chai’ (tea,) a traditional Kashmiri tea enjoyed alongside the fresh ‘Tchuchvor’.
As I left the baker’s shop with warm bread in hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had witnessed something extraordinary. The bread they made was more than what it was—a testament to hardships, skill and dedication that stood the test of time vis-à-vis a reminder of twilight years, and beauty in hard work and camaraderie.
The warmth of their smiles and the fragrant bread would linger in my heart long after I returned home, inspiring me to cherish the connections in my life and to seek out the simple joys that bind us all. My love for Palhalan was renewed that day, a reminder of the rich tapestry of tradition and love that defines our village life.
(Author is Anchor at breakfast show Good Morning J&K, DD Kashir, Srinagar. Feedback: [email protected])
