The Beginning

In the year 2008, armed with my first-ever camera, a modest LG 2100 mobile, and fueled by the spirit of adventure, I embarked on my initial solo journey to Neelam Valley. It was a pivotal moment, coming right after resigning from my first job. Aizad Ehsan, a family friend in Islamabad, played the role of the navigator, revealing the intricate map of Neelam Valley and guiding me to unexplored corners. The plan was straightforward initially, catching a bus from Muzaffarabad to Sharda. However, the intriguing endpoint, Taubat, beckoned me on the map, and I boldly declared, "I'll go till the end of this point."

From Karin and Upper Neelam to the Sharda AJK Rest House, my four-day, three-night stay involved diverse accommodations, ranging from a mosque and a local dhaba hotel to the vintage Wapda Rest House. The 50+ km walk from Sharda to Taubat became the pinnacle of excitement for a novice solo traveler. While childhood memories included cycling through neighboring villages in Pakpattan, this grand journey marked the beginning of my photography endeavors.

The valley's silence enveloped me, weaving me into the fabric of peace and transporting me back to my earliest roadside school memories—Tat Wala School. Recollections of the school's idyllic setting by the riverside, adorned with the innocent faces and grey Malaysia (a distinctive fabric used for school uniforms) of Kashmiri school children, became etched in my mind during the lush month of June in 2008.

The scene evoked memories of my very first childhood roadside school, Tat Wala School, where the venerable Ustad/Baba Gee Qalmaan Walay, a white-bearded, white-clad, diminutive old man, played the role of my first teacher after my sisters. The imagery of Kashmiri children on tats (carpets/rugs) triggered nostalgic thoughts of my own flying carpet—transporting me to and from this roadside school and home, skillfully folding the tat becoming an art form in itself.

This particular roadside school, situated in front of the ancient Sara-e on MC Dispensary Road Gala Mandi Pakpattan, resonated with the sounds of cycle bells, tanga bells, and the rhythmic tapping of horses' hooves. The riverside schools of Kashmiri children, situated along the melodious Neelam River bank, echoed the charming symphony of life.

Observing Kashmiri children writing on black Takhti (wooden tablets) presented a new fascination for me. In my childhood, I excelled in crafting Dawats (ink pots) with expertise, and the addition of Roshnai (shimmering black grains) was akin to an art or magic. The Qalams (cane reed pens) were always skillfully carved by the Ustad/Baba Gee. These childhood experiences laid the foundation for my artistic journey, from Alif to Bari Yeh, and my subsequent exploration at the prestigious National College of Arts (NCA).

The enchantment of white writing on black Takhti took me back to my experimental childhood days, evoking memories of fellow artisans at the riverside school in Neelam Valley. Their open-air classrooms by the river delighted me, prompting me to capture those precious moments through the lens of my first mobile camera's 1"x2" screen. Displaying the photos to them on this tiny screen sparked excitement among the Kashmiri children, and I couldn't help but share snippets of my own childhood stories in return.

Zaheer Chaudhry

Director
CRSA Pakistan