Inherited Memories
This week has been a strange one. It’s got me reflecting on where I come from. At the start of every new school year, the same ice-breaker question resurfaces, “Would you rather travel to the past or the future?”. This small, light-hearted question is laid out in front of me on this thin white slip of paper.
But questions like this rarely stay light for me. I tend to spiral into debates with myself—House of Commons-styled sessions over things I can’t change, or things that shouldn’t matter, but refuse to leave my mind.
I’m not here to discuss politics and it’s not often you’ll see me writing from the editor’s desk, but I’ve decided it’s time to stop procrastinating and finally do this for myself.
Today, I can’t help but think about heritage, memory, and imagination—all tangled up in the sheets around me. There’s an anxious anticipation: tomorrow is a step into something new, but even as alarms loom, it’s stories from home that keep me awake.
Back to the question, contrary to popular opinion I would travel to the past to discover what I refer to as the hidden truth. After asking countless questions, I had given up after receiving the same answer of “I’ll tell you when you’re older” for years.
I know very little about Kashmir. Despite my far-from-ample research, I still feel Kashmir is home without being able to name five places there without a reminder.
Kashmir: An Inheritance of Imagination
By Mendelian logic, though I may not have inherited exactly 50% of my genes from my mother, I resonate with her heritage more than I do to my father’s. If you asked me where my father was from, I would probably just say “India” despite him being born and raised abroad. Whereas, if you asked me the same question about my maternal side, I would give you a more specific answer: “Kashmir”. Most people I mention it to either mistake it for ‘cashmere’ or sit there clueless, also a name of a popular movie, again a common icebreaker.
Harari’s Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow describes how animals can only imagine things they have already seen, giving the example of cats imagining chasing mice because they have already experienced it. On the other hand, humans can imagine whole worlds unknown to us.
Allow me to elaborate: if I were to ask you to imagine jumping out of a helicopter into an erupting volcano, you would be able to paint a vivid picture of the scene and may even tell me about your feelings at the time, even though you have never done it.
That’s how I experience Kashmir, minus the erupting volcanoes and helicopters. I have never set foot in Kashmir, yet I am so attached to it.
I have never visited my ancestral home, a grand six-bedroom house that I hear of regularly. My grandfather once told me that my mother used to read in the ‘tower’, leading me to imagine the house as a castle. The proper description was most likely lost in translation, or my mind may have filled in the blanks with pieces of fairytales, yet it still feels so real.
For me, Kashmir is more than a place. It is an inheritance of the heart and mind, sustained not by memory but by imagination, longing, and fragments of story.
What Does Kashmir Mean to Someone Like Me?
Everything. Yet nothing you can touch. Kashmir feels real because I imagine it. It lives in fragments, stories, laughter, food and the hope tied into memories I’ve never lived.
For years, among my cousins, I was the youngest. Whenever the topic of Kashmir came up, they would ask me what I knew, expecting my answer to be nothing more than a shrug. To them, Kashmir was just a word, faint and undefined. And in truth, none of us really knew, because Kashmir isn’t something people openly talk about.
Kashmir feels like a distant memory, with elements of our culture now spread worldwide. Small familiar details, the sheer number of A. Raina’s you come across, the deep love for batta (food) and countless other subtle traditions unique to Kashmiris, might seem minor or even occasionally irritating. Yet they quietly reinforce who we are and draw us together. Even when they stir frustration, they remain essential threads of identity. Perhaps this is the time to cherish and nurture these connections, uniting Kashmiri people and traditions wherever they may be. After all, it is less about the land itself and more about the community and its enduring spirit.
That’s why I want to leave you with this: ask the questions you’ve always held back, and when someone asks you, give them an answer. You never know—the story you share might be the beginning of someone else’s journey.
The truth? We all carry our own Heritage. It isn’t about where, but who. Places are carried in the memories of those who call it home, regardless of their previous experiences.
Aria Raina Kumar
Meet Aria—our 12-year-old junior editor at ISBUND and a whirlwind of curiosity, creativity and ambition! Proud of her Kashmiri roots, Aria draws inspiration from her heritage, her family and the world around her. Whether she’s running across the cricket ground, building intricate LEGO masterpieces or diving into the mysteries of Science and Maths, Aria brings energy and imagination to everything she does. Her love for learning is matched only by her big dreams: Aria hopes to one day become a neurosurgeon, blending her fascination with the human brain and her drive to help others. Until then, she’s busy exploring new ideas, taking on school projects and proving that you’re never too young to chase after what excites you. When she’s not exploring new projects, debating strategies with her friends or letting her imagination run wild, Aria is always ready for the next adventure. For her, every day is a chance to discover something new with a fearless heart and a mind hungry for discovery.
7 Comments
-
Kamlesh Kumar
This is such a beautifully written reflection. I love how you capture the idea that heritage isn’t just a physical place, but something carried in memory, imagination, and story. Your connection to Kashmir, despite never having visited, really shows how deeply inherited memories shape our sense of identity. The way you weave imagination with family history, culture, and longing makes the piece feel both personal and universal. Truly inspiring—it makes me think about my own heritage in a new way.
-
Manju Vali
Dear Aria
More power to your pen.How beautifully you have painted the picture of kashmir on the canvass God bless you
May your dreams come true
Keep on writing
❤️ -
G L Mattoo FIE
It made an excellent reading.
Great imagination and write ups.
Best wishes to the authors.
Regards -
Moksha
Aria, your writing really touched my heart. The way you wrote about memories and identity shows such depth and understanding at such a young age. It feels honest, tender, and full of imagination. You reminded me that heritage is not only about where we come from, but also about the stories, feelings, and love that we carry forward.
Reading this also made me think of my own daughters. One day, when they ask me questions about who they are or where they belong, I will happily share your words with them. What you have written is something they can learn from, something that will guide them to see how identity is built not just from places, but from love, memories, and imagination.
You should be proud of yourself, Aria. you have written something that adults can read and reflect on. Keep writing and keep sharing your words are powerful, and they will inspire many. -
Sarla Sumbly
My dearest Aria, reading your words filled my heart with both pride and tenderness. You have given voice to feelings many of us carry quietly, and you’ve woven them into something so beautiful. Though you may not have seen Kashmir with your own eyes, I see that it already lives brightly within you — in your curiosity, your imagination, and the love you carry for your roots. Never doubt that the stories we pass down and the bonds we share are as real as the land itself. You are part of this heritage, and in you, our home continues to live on.
With all my love,
Nani ❤️ -
Poppy
VERY AMAZING
POST COMMENT
Related Posts
Spiced Memories, Shared Dreams: Kashmiri Pandits and the Art of Belonging
Somewhere in a small apartment in Delhi, Kishni smooths the creases on
How Small Habits Shape a Healthier Mind
Small, daily choices, not dramatic overhauls hold the key to a healthi
The Weight of a Post: Reflections from the Guggenheim
In The Weight of a Post, Sheetal Raina invites readers into the contem
From Playgrounds to Pixels
Childhood has shifted from unstructured outdoor play to screen-centere
The Art of Science, The Science of Art: Exploring the Connection
In her thought-provoking article, Sheetal Raina recounts how her early
When Being Vulnerable is A Woman’s Burden
As Rachel Reeves’s grief played out in the House of Commons, the sil
sundeep kaul
What a beautifully heartfelt reflection, Aria — your words carry both depth and imagination well beyond your years. I love how you connect heritage with memory and storytelling, making Kashmir feel alive through your perspective. Keep writing — your voice is powerful, and it shines with authenticity.