Rest that is not sleep

When Bhai Vir Singh went to Kashmir, he wrote a book full of poems about it. Bhai Vir Singh is a high standard; from me, you can expect at least one blogpost.

There is something about Kashmir and its people that’s truly spellbinding – from the overall surroundings there to the sweet language they have, to their slant-roofed houses.

Our stay in Kashmir was at the house of an acquaintance. We were a team of 15, including one toddler. The family who hosted us and had this massive and beautiful house with cherry trees and a farm of its own, provided us with two halls, one each for gents and ladies.

One of the most memorable times at Kashmir was the time of Rehraas Sahib, a sudden memory of which gave me the idea of this blogpost, especially its title: “rest that is not sleep”.

We reached their house around evening and it was already time for Rehraas. We perched on the carpeted floor in a circle, sort of, some of us leaning against walls, some slightly bending forwards, some with phones in hands. Some had blankets spread on laps as it was cold, though the month was of June.

And comfort pervaded all around. All the chaos in the world came to a rest as we all recited one couplet each, turn by turn. It was a kind of rest, a kind of comfort unheard of, unspoken of, unknown of.

And this rest, this comfort, unlike most rests and comforts, didn’t put me to sleep. In my room back in Ludhiana, when I am too comfortable, when there is a pillow to support my back and I have no pressing works, I start feeling sleepy, and my limbs feel a new kind of ache – while it’s still a feeling of comfort.

But here, this comfort was different – it didn’t put me to sleep. My eyes wide open, observing everything from that little speck of dust under the curtain, to that grain of biscuit someone dropped unknowingly, to that toe of the toddler that was so immature and innocent – I observed everything, being very much alive and full of sense – more sense of myself than I had ever – and I savoured this comfort for the entire 50 minute period (including the discussion on our favourite quotes from Rehraas).

A similar experience ensued in Ludhiana once, and this time again, I was doing Rehraas; with this three-years-younger friend from Anandpur Sahib, on Zoom, while the door to my room was barred with no movement outside. A harmonium lay next to me which I had just played for “Har jug jug bhagat upaaya…”. At the end of Rehraas, this friend and I (while our videos were on), pumped our fists and punched the air high above while shouting the traditional warcries, “Bole so nihaal … sat sri akaal” and “deg teg fateh, panth ki jeet”. He began to laugh in some kind of ecstasy, followed by me laughing at his laughter.

That was a different kind of comfort too.

Kashmir or Ludhiana, you can have rest that is not sleep, provided some factors are met – factors I am trying to figure out, factors that are nevertheless not in my control.