Forgotten Fairies and Folktales of Kashmir

From princes frozen in stone to golden waters of hope, Kashmiri folktales shaped hearts, whispered wisdom, and marked the passage back to life.

- Sheikh Ubaid Gul

Evenings in the 1990s in Kashmir carried a light that belonged neither to the sun nor the stars. It came from the laps of elders, the warmth of their voices, and the magic of stories spilling from memory.

Their laps were private worlds, portals into places where fairies greeted us, trees hummed songs, and birds spoke in riddles.

Words were keys, unlocking spaces more wondrous than any magic spell. They promised golden waters, impossible quests, and the slow unfolding of a universe that existed beyond our walls.

I remember a tale of princes turned to stone by hidden spells. Travellers, guided by a wandering mystic and a glowing ball, crossed the Valley of Idols with cotton in their ears, resisting bewitching voices that sought to stop them.

They carried vessels to capture golden water flowing from the roots of a singing tree. They poured it over the stone figures, and kingdoms remembered spring.

At the end, the storyteller spoke the same words: "They went there, we came here."

For years, those words floated past me like wind through the branches. I never paused. I never realized their weight.