A Journey: Kashmir
I could not leave Kashmir without visiting a Mandir. I was in Srinagar to speak at the second edition of the Kashmir Literature Festival 2025. To be invited to speak at this brilliant event, a crucible of ideas and creativity, and especially speak about my book Mountain Goddesses in their own scared land was a divine blessing.
But I could not leave Kashmir before bowing to the Gods and Goddesses of the sacred land, the silent sentinels of everything that Kashmir has seen.
I also could not leave without thanking and bowing to the resilience of those who remain, take care of these Mandirs and those who visit and pray here regularly. The courageous flag bearers.
I also had another very personal reason. I had to go to a Mandir to pray for my only sibling, my younger brother Arnab Khajuria, who breathed his last in Srinagar on 8th Feb 2024 because of an unexpected cardiac arrest.
A life gone too soon, a family devastated, old parents left alone, not knowing how to go on. Yet the odd six months Arnab spent in Srinagar for work, he brought joy to so many people by his kindness and his light. That was the way he was.
Even during the two days of Festival I was keenly aware that I slept not far, infact 2 kms from where my brother lived during his stay in Srinagar just a year and half back.
I expressed my desire to visit a local Mandir before I left Kashmir with the elderly driver assigned to me by the organisers of Kashmir Literature Festival, Fayaz Sahab. Fayaz Sahab kindly arrived half an hour earlier on the day we were to leave for the airport and took me to a Pracheen Shree Hanuman ji Mandir in Lal Chowk.
The Mandir rests on the banks of Vitasta. Like many other Mandirs in Jammu and in Kashmir, this Mandir too was being guarded by the Armed Forces against radical extremists and Islamist terrorists.
As I approached the Mandir, two women walked in before me, past the soldiers standing guard. The Mandir and the stunning Hanuman Vigraha in black stone and the Panchmukhi Shivlinga radiated a protective and reassuring energy. Almost saying we will always remain.
I said my prayers, thanking Bhagwan and asking for happy and smooth journey for my brother’s soul. Before leaving I peered out of the Mandir’s glass windows and saw Vitasta flowing past calmly, a silent witness to everything.
At the airport as I waited to fly out of Kashmir, I browsed my chat with my brother, something I do often, I was stunned to see that he had sent me pics of the same Mandir on Diwali, 12th November 2023. He had stood at the exact same spot, photographed. I stood at the same spot on 13th October 2025. I wanted to go to just any Mandir yet I was brought to this one.
Pic sent by him on 12th November 2023
You were here and I came back to be where you were.
Manu Khajuria
Manu Khajuria is a writer, activist and founder of Voice of Dogras, a platform dedicated to promoting the heritage and rights of the Dogra community from Jammu, India. Her debut book, Mountain Goddesses: Finding the Feminine in the Unexpected, explores the stories of goddesses, female folk deities and warrior women from the region, offering a unique perspective on feminine strength rooted in indigenous traditions. A regular columnist and commentator on Jammu & Kashmir, gender and identity, Manu’s work has been featured on numerous platforms. Based in the UK, she is also active in community initiatives, championing diversity and cultural representation. Manu’s writing and advocacy continue to inspire pride and awareness of Jammu’s rich heritage, especially among women.
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Thanks for sharing Manu.
Sorry to hear about your brother Arnab. May his soul rest in peace.
There is more to this cosmos than meets the eye.
यादें तो यादें हैं
बिन बुलाए मेहमान हो जैसे
चली आती हैं कभी भी
घाव अपने हैं
घर कर चुके हैं सीने में
जायें तो जायें कहाँ
वक़्त खरोंच खरोंच कर
याद दिलाता रहता है
सुनें आँगन की…