HABBA KHATOON: MYTH AND REALITY
HABBA KHATOON:
MYTH AND REALITY
BY
Professor Muhammad Aslam
HABBA KHATOON: A GHOST OR AN ENIMATIC POET OF KASHMIR-I
Intro
Lately, a debate on social and print media has resurfaced regarding the identity of one of the most celebrated poets of Kashmir, Habba Khatoon, a household name and the most sung lyricist of Kashmir, often referred to as the “Nightingale of Kashmir”. Although the debate is confined to whether she is buried in Kashmir or Biswak, Bihar, alongside her supposed husband, the last independent Muslim king of Kashmir, Yousuf Shah Chak, it has necessarily involved a discussion on her mysterious identity as well. There is no doubt that Habba Khatoon is the most popular poet, but she is also the most ghostly or enigmatic personality among all the classical Kashmiri poets. There are many questions that have remained unanswered to date. Some of them are:
Who was she, Zoon, Habeeba, or Habba Khatoon?
Did she hail from a village, Chandahar, Pampore, or from the main city-centre, called the ‘Shehr-e—Khaas’ (Downtown)?
Was she a simple rustic girl, Zoon, married to an illiterate villager who, along with his mother, ill-treated her, eventually leading to their divorce?
Did she become the last queen of Kashmir and the wife of King of Kashmir, Yousuf Shah Chak?
How did she get Habba Khatoon as a nom de plume?
What happened to Zoon after King Akbar arrested and exiled Yousuf Shah Chak?
Was she really married to Yousuf Shah Chak, or did he use her only as a concubine in the royal court like many others?
Was Habeeba the real wife of Yousuf Chah Chak, the mother of Yaqoub Shah who was enthroned after Yousuf Shah’s exile?
If Zoon was from Pampore, who was the “sayyad kuur” (a high caste girl) that she mentions in one of her poems?
Were her in-laws in Jamalata, Srinagar, or in Chandahar, Pampore, or both, one after the other?
Where did she die, in Kashmir or outside Kashmir (after Yousuf Shah Chak requested to get her to Biswak as he was feeling desperate without her)?
If she was buried in Biswak, why do we have a gravestone in her name at Athwajan, on the outskirts of Srinagar city?
Does her poetry help us untangle this knot or make it more complicated?
Does her diction and style help us understand what age she must have belonged to?
These and so many other questions need answers, but are there any?
Let us explore this ghostly or enigmatic character in the literary and political history of Kashmir. We will approach this issue through:
A۔ Historical accounts—both old and modern.
B۔ The poetry that is attributed to Habba Khatoon (or Zoon) and by looking at the thematic concerns and style of her poetry.
A. CHAOTIC HISTORY
Habba Khatoon was a 16th-century poet (that is what folklore says) who wrote vaakhs (short lyrical poems) that blend themes of love, longing, nature, and mysticism. Who was she actually? None of the Kashmir chronicles, past and present, has any definitive answers. One of the versions is that she was born as Zoon (meaning ‘moon’) in Chandahar, near the saffron town, Pampore, to Abdi Rather (Perhaps, Abdullah Rather). Her father had brought her up with care, ensuring that she got an education through a local teacher. She was married to a local villager named Haraza Mir or Aziz Lone. Their union proved very disastrous as her husband and his mother ill-treated her. She wandered singing her own songs, which accidentally caught the attention of the last Muslim King of Kashmir, Yousuf Shah Chak (around 1570), when he was hunting in the area. He was captivated by Zoon’s voice and made her his queen after getting a divorce from Haraza or Aziz Mir. Her songs and singing were so luring and sweet that she was renamed as Habba Khatoon (‘Lady of Love’). However, the marriage with the King didn’t last long as the King was tricked by Akbar, invited to Delhi, imprisoned in Bengal, and exiled to Bihar. After his death, he was buried in Biswak village, Bihar. His lady love didn’t accompany him, and she spent her life in Kashmir. However, some undocumented accounts say that on the request of her husband, she was allowed to travel to Bihar and live with her husband until her death. It is believed that she, too, was buried in Biswak.
The above account is the most popular one and is trusted by most Kashmiris. However, there are no authentic historical accounts, past or present, that support the idea that Zoon became Queen Habba Khatoon, died in exile, and is buried beside her husband in Bihar. One of the oldest books that tells us about her is the Gulistan-e-Kashmir (Garden of Kashmir), written by Abdul Wahab Shayiq, fifty years after the death of Habba Khatoon or Zoon, in 1756. He writes that in the court of Yousuf Shah Chak, there was a God-fearing singer, Habiba. Shayiq (quoted in Amin Kamil 1995) says:
چو بودہ است خاتوں حبیبہ بنام
یکی عارفہ بود صاحب مقام
کلامش بسوز و گداز آشنا
ہمی داد با مردہ جاں از نوا
سخن ہای اور پیش کشمیریاں
بود مشتہر زاں نگردد بیاں
chu budah ast khatun ḥabibah ba-nam
yaki ‘arifah bud saḥib-e maqam
kalamash ba-suz o gadaz ashena
hami dad ba mardah jan az nawa
sukhan-ha-ye u pish-e kashmiriyan
bud mushtahir z-an nagardad bayan
There was a lady by the name of Habibah, A mystic woman, possessing great spiritual rank. Her poetry was filled with passion and ardour۔ She could revive a dead soul with her melody. Her words were well-known among the Kashmiris—So famous that they need no further description.
If Habeeba’s songs were famous in Kashmir, why would she use Habba Khatoon and not Habeeba as her nom de plume? In Kashmir, Habba Khatoon’s songs are well-known, and none is there in the name of Habeeba!
Another classical Persian chronicle is that of Birbal Kachroo (died 1860). He has mentioned that Habba Khatoon was an extraordinarily charming lady with a bewitching voice who hailed from Chandahar, Pampore. She was married in her own dynasty. She had a melodious voice and would sing her own songs, which people overheard and reported to her in-laws. They taunted her and sent her to her parental home with divorce papers in her hand. En route, she was sighted by Yousuf Shah Chak’s servants. Seeing her charm and listening to her melodious voice, they escorted her to the prince, who was captivated by the beauty of Habba Khatoon and granted her the honour of admitting to his harem—the actual words are “humbistari ka sharaf bakhsha” (bestowing the honour of sharing his bed) (See Amin Kamil. Habba Khatoon. Jayyad Barqi Press, 1959: 6). History says that Yousuf Shah Chak was crowned in 1578, and when Habba Khatoon entered his bedroom, his father, Ali Shah (1570-1578), was ruling Kashmir. A famed 19th century Kashmir chronicler, Ghulam Hassan Shah, popularly known as Hassan Khoyihami, also follows Kachroo in saying that Habba Khatoon had entered Yousuf Shah Chak’s harem as a keep: “[Habba Khatoon’s] fame reached the amorous ears of Yusuf Shah, who admitted her to his harem as a ‘Keep’, and did not allow her the status of a queen. Both the chroniclers [Birbal and Hassan] are punctilious about using the phrase ‘sharing the same bed,’ about her” (‘Habba Khatoon: Philomela of Medieval Kashmir’ by Professor RK Dhar, retrieved ; see also Kamil 1959). Modern historians like Muhammad Din Fauq also talk about Yousuf Shah Chak having secured Habba’s divorce after paying five thousand dirhams (D 119,650) to her husband. He says that he married her. In his book, hikayet-e-Kashmir (Tales of Kashmir, 1928, published by Khuda Baxsh Oriental Library, Patna) Muhammad Din Fauq has devoted a chapter entitled ‘The End of a Luxury Loving King’ (pp. 86-90) to Yousuf Shah Chak wherein he says that Habba Khatoon was already famous in Chandahar when the king heard about her voice and beauty. He secured her divorce after paying heavily to her ill-tempered husband, and father. She got training in royal etiquette before marrying the king. It is believed that at that time, Yousuf Shah’s age was 28, while Habba was 19. She lived a royal life for fourteen years (see Amin Kamil, kuliyat-e-Habba Khatoon 1995; Habba Khatoon 1959). If Yousuf Shah Chak had married Zoon who became Habba Khatoon, why are the chronicles silent about it? If Zoon was born in Chandahar, who was Habeeba believed to be from the city and a ‘sayyad kuur’ (a high caste Muslim girl)? As has been related above, there is no proof of Yousuf Shah Chak having any queen by the name of Habeeba or Habba Khatoon, or even Zoon. “No historical chronicle before the 19th century refers to Habba Khatoon. Many legends about her are prevalent in Kashmir. From these, and from her poetry, scholars have tried to reconstruct the details of her life”, writes Ram Chandrakausika (‘The Lady of Love: The Life and Works of Habba Khatoon’, retrieved ).
Another legend is that Habba Khatoon was born in Gurez to Bota Raj who had fallen in debt to shawl vendors—Khoja Hayaband and Habba Lala. He wasn’t able to clear the debt. He gave them his daughter instead of the debt. This girl became Habba Khatoon later on. One day, she was singing in the field when Yousuf Shah Chak passed by (we will talk about it later with reference to her poetry). He was stunned to see such a beautiful lady with a captivating voice. He fell in love with her at first sight and married her after some time. They say that a mountain peak in her name is a testimony to this ‘fact’. However, another legend refutes this whole idea and says that Habba Khatoon once visited Gurez Valley and sat at the foothills of this mountain that is named after her. In short, there is no dearth of unauthentic stories there about the lady who remains a mystery till date. Interestingly, all these legends have one thing in common and that is, there did exist a poet by the name of Habba Khatoon, but who she was and from where she was remains a puzzle.
Amin Kamil (1995) mentions Bashir Bashar (in Shiraza 19, 4), having referred to Anis Kazmi’s statement that in Gulistan-e-Shahi, Habba Khatoon is described as the daughter of Sayyad Bahar Shah and Bibi Badval Jamal. After her mother’s death, she went into the care of Abdi Rather of Chandahar. Abdi Rather married her off to Kamaluddin of Jamalata, Srinagar who was a maternal cousin (mamtur boay) of Habba Khatoon (We will discuss this in detail later on). But why was Habba Khatoon handed over to Abdi Rather after her mother’s death? What relationship was there between Abdi Rather and Bahar Shah or his wife? Was there nobody from the parental side who could take care of Habba Khatoon? Why didn’t her mother’s parental home take her into their care since Habba Khatoon had been married there? Kamil (1995) does ask these questions, which need to be answered. As we will see later, Habba Khatoon does mention her Jamalata marriage in her verse, but she also says that she was a high caste (Sayyad) girl. This claim nullifies the popular narrative that Habba Khatoon was the Zoon of Chandahar and/or daughter of Abdi Rather.
One of the most important historical accounts of Kashmiri literature and language is that of Abdul Ahad Azad, a renowned poet and, perhaps, the first person who wrote a detailed account of the Kashmiri poets. His book, kashmiri zaban aur shayri (Kashmiri Language and Poetry) was posthumously published by the Jammu and Kashmir Academy, Art and Culture in three volumes in 1959.…(to continue)
Habba Khatoon: A Ghost or An Enigmatic Poet of Kashmir-II
Professor Muhammad Aslam
[In continuation of the previous]
Abdul Ahad Azad is believed to have worked very hard in compiling the life accounts of Kashmiri poets at a time when such a venture was beyond anybody’s imagination.
In this regard, Padam Nateh Gunjoo ( kuliyat-e-Azad. J&K Academy of Art, Culture and Languages, 1967) writes that after writing Mahjoor’s biography, he thought of writing the history of Kashmiri literature: “Apart from writing biography of Mahjoor, he also developed an interest in writing Tārīkh-e-Adabiyāt-e-Kashmir (The Literary History of Kashmir), and he began collecting information about the poets of the past, along with their published and unpublished works (p.41)”— Tārīkh-e-Adabiyāt-e-Kashmir was later on published as kashmiri adab aur shayri (Kashmiri Literature and Poetry by J&K Cultural Academy in three volumes in 1959. Gunjoo writes that Azad travelled a lot for collecting information and completed the book before he died in 1948. He writes (p. 42-43): “In its nature, this is the first book of its kind for Kashmiri literature, and in significance, it can be considered at par with Browne’s History of Persian Literature and Shibli’s She‘r al-‘Ajam (The Poetry of East)”— too exaggerated statement.
It is really very strange that a book of such status doesn’t provide any authentic evidence about Habba Khatoon. Instead, Azad follows the prevalent legend or oral tradition. The chapter entitled ‘Malika Habba Khatoon’ (Queen Habba Khatoon, vol 2, p. 124) relates that Habba was actually Zoon, who had been married to Aziz, a temperamental fellow, who ill-treated her, though she loved him most. She wandered singing her elegiac songs, which one day attracted the attention of Yousuf Shah Chak, who was captivated by her sweet, melodious voice and the quality of her verse. After some time, he married her (p. 229). Azad writes: “Yusuf Shah was by nature a lover of knowledge, literature, luxury, intelligence, a connoisseur of poetry, and even a bit of a poet. He usually spent weeks and months traveling to places of entertainment. Habba Khatoon always stayed with him” (p.229).
Yousuf Shah Chak’s love for poetry and music is also related in a 1614 AD Persian chronicle on medieval Kashmir by an anonymous writer, Baharistan-e-Shahi (Baharistan-e-Shahi: A Chronicle of Medieval Kashmir (The Royal Garden: A Chronicle of Medieval Kashmir. Calcutta: Firma KLM Private Limited. 1991. Translated by KN Pandita): “Yusuf Shah was gifted with a beautiful and graceful body and disposition. He was well versed in music and Hindi, Kashmiri and Persian poetry. His compositions were popular with the lovers of music. His Hindi, Kashmiri and Persian verses were well-known in Hindustan and Kashmir and often quoted by the erudite and the poets” (p. 219). However, there is no mention of Habba Khatoon, Habeeba, or Zoon in the chronicle, though the chronicle does mention that when Akbar became the king, he “showed favour to Yusuf Shah by offering him two mistresses” (p. 206). The Baharistan has devoted two chapters (VII & VIII) to the Yousuf Shah Chak rule, but nowhere does it mention that he had any lady in his court who would, as is the popular belief, advise him on administrative matters, or who had tried her best to dissuade him from accepting Akbar’s treacherous offer of visiting him before he was arrested and exiled.
There is a stark contradiction between Azad and Baharistan about Yousuf Shah Chak’s capabilities. Azad says that “he was a bit of a poet”, whereas the latter says that “[h]is Hindi, Kashmiri and Persian verses were well-known in Hindustan and Kashmir and often quoted by the erudite and the poets”. It seems that Azad’s research was lopsided and based on folklore.
Azad goes on narrating the popular version of the last days of Habba Khatoon. He says that after Yousuf Shah Chak’s imprisonment in Bengal, Habba Khatoon couldn’t stay in the palace because of differences with her stepson, Yaqoub Shah. She left the palace and renounced worldly comforts. She virtually became a wanderer and died in that state and was buried in Pantachowk, where there was a mosque in her name—It is now called Aurangzeb Masjid. It is intriguing that, despite being a queen, she was buried at a stone quarry and not in mazar-e-salateen (the Royal Graveyard at Nowhatta), where most of the royals were laid to rest! If her burial place is in Kashmir, who was Habeeba whose grave is there in Biswak, Bihar, alongside Yousuf Shah Chak?
Among modern historians is also Professor SN Wakhlu, who has written a book, Habba Khatoon: The Nightingale of Kashmir (New Delhi: South Asia Publications, 1994), in which he gives a detailed account of Abdi Rather and his daughter, Zoon. Abdi Rather’s wife didn’t conceive for some time, which made her husband apathetic towards her. He felt depressed and wouldn’t take care of his wife. Later on, he was blessed with a daughter after visiting (at somebody’s behest) Charar-e-Sharief, the mausoleum of Sheikh Nuruddin Reshi, popularly known as Sheikhul Aalam. The newborn baby was named Zoon. Wakhlu writes (p.70): “Zoon’s parents gave her a good education as far as was possible in those times. By the time she grew up, she had learnt to play on several musical instruments from the apprentices in her father’s workroom. The educational experience, coupled with her growing beauty, charm and good humour, gave her a reputation which very quickly spread to other villages. The city gallants visited her father’s workroom to take a look at her, but she kept them at a distance. Her grandfather began to take a keen interest in her poetry. He used to admire and encourage her, and he took her, of and on, to some of the good poets in Srinagar, whom he knew, and they taught her prosody. On the advice of Sayyid Mubarak, a Sufi, she began to experiment with Persian metre. From childhood, she delighted in reciting poems of the great poets of Persia. The exquisite poetry of Saadi sharpened her wits and generated in her a great zest for singing and composing rhymes”.
Wakhlu talks about a chance meeting of Zoon and Yousuf Shah. He says (p. 84) that it was during a chilly winter night that Yousuf Shah had to take shelter in Abdi Rather’s home without identifying himself. Feeling “grateful” for their hospitality, he offered them some coins, which Abdi Rather refused to take—“No, no, jinab, we don’t sell our hospitality”. Yousuf Shah then said, “Well, then take this ring as gift from me to your daughter. This is from me, Yusuf Shah Chak” (op cit). According to Walhku, from here started the love story of Zoon and Yousuf Shah Chak. However, Zoon wasn’t initially married to the Shah, but to Aziz in 1564 AD, through the matchmaker Mahamdoo (Wakhlu 91). When her father took her to a saint, Khwaja Masud, he predicted: “Zoon, you will marry someone soon. I change your name and call you Habba Khatun (The Lady of Love), by which name you will become immortal” (Walkhlu, p. 105). This is against the popular belief that Zoon got the title of Habba Khatoon at the Royal Court.
Bitterness between Zoon and Aziz continued for some more time. Aziz had decided to divorce her and said before the Qazi, when he asked him if he wanted to divorce her: “…O absolutely. Talaq, talaq, talaq, I say three times as enjoined by law” (Wakhlu, p. 127). Interestingly, Wakhlu is contesting that Yousuf Shah Chak got her divorced after paying handsomely to her husband. One day, Yousuf Shah Chak’s mother visited her and asked her to marry her son. Zoon said that she had heard about kings and princes having courtesans and concubines, but she won’t live with her son like that. The queen was astonished at her boldness and promised that the marriage would be performed as per law (Wakhlu, p. 143). The news soon broke throughout Chandahar. The royal wedding took place with great pomp and show as the prince had become so restive that his mother couldn’t wait for long.
Wakhlu writes (p. 145): “Habba Khatoon was a charmer. With her graceful manner and soft attractive voice she could disarm anybody. Yusuf had in the real sense fallen deeply in love with her. Previously, of course, his behaviour had been motivated by whims and they were difficult to be explained in logical terms. Now for several days Yusuf had been brooding and thinking and refusing to attend to any work. What was the reason for his restlessness? A house was bought for Abdi Rather’s family in a posh colony but Habba Khatoon refused to leave the picturesque village with its streams and springs and warbling bulbuls. “Was she not essentially a poet?” she wrote to Yusuf”.
The royal proclamation about the wedding was made in 1570 AD. Wakhlu (p. 149) says that a “splendid river procession” was taken in which hundred of people participated and chanted, “Bashah Salamat Zindabad, Shehzada Sahib Zindabad”—The slogan indicates that the marriage took place before Yousuf became the king. Wakhlu says that Yousuf declared himself king in 1579 AD and “[m]any nobles and their ladies and other came to congratulate Habba” (p. 181).
Yousuf and Habba Khatoon (She was one of the queens) enjoyed their married life, wandering from place to place, but, at the same time, devoting time to their duties. However, some natural calamities and wars did not allow them to rest for long. Ultimately, their married life ended when Akbar duped Yousuf, imprisoned and exiled him. Habba had to leave the palace and live a wanton life: “For Habba Khatoon the sun had set. She continued to live in her cottage at Panda Chok and was, year by year, worn out by dejection and poverty. Dread malady had seized her and she was weary of life. But she never spoke of her suffering to anyone. She was all the time murmuring the name of Allah and His prophet (peace be upon Him!). There was in her last years only gratitude for the gifts of life bestowed on her by God and it welled from the heart of Habba now even in her agony”.
Habba Khatoon burnt all her papers, including those containing her poems and verses [emphasis mine.
Whose verses and poems are we reading nowadays if Habba Khatoon burned them before she died? ), shut herself in her own cottage and had no communication with the outside world. Renunciation had brought with it a mysterious initiation, a fine insight to Habba Khatoon. She could see the approaching end and she was glad. On her last day of her life in the year 1605 A.D. she got up and bathed and read Holy Quran for quite a long time and then performed Nimaz. Her face suddenly took on bloom. She got strength and the candle of her life shone brilliantly. In the evening it was stifling and a hot mist hung over the village. Habba came to her home from a stroll in the nearby field. She was suffering from heat and could neither speak nor breathe freely. She made an effort to sip some water. There were some children and a few women in her room” (Wakhlu 243).
People standing around her were weeping. Habba had called a Moulvi of the nearby mosque and instructed him that she should be buried near her cottage, and all her belongings should be distributed among the poor. She had also asked him not to inform the Mughal Governor. “The whole of Kashmir wept when they heard of Habba Khatoon’s death; no smoke came out of the houses on that tragic day. All bewailed the death of the talented daughter of their race. Habba Khatoon had risen as a luminous moon in the firmament of Kashmir’s history” (Wakhlu 244).
(to continue)
Habba Khatoon: A Ghost or An Enigmatic Poet of Kashmir-III
Professor Muhammad Aslam
[In continuation of the previous]
Modern histories of Kashmiri literature, like Avtar Krishen Rehbar and Naji Munawar & Shafi Shauq also do not provide any convincing information about Habba Khatoon. Although Rehbar’s history was published much before Munawar & Shauq, he too depends on hearsay while talking about Habba Khatoon. Naaji Munwar and Shafi Shauq (Kaeshri Zaban ta Adbuk Tawareekh, ‘History of Kashmiri Language and Literature’, 2014) admit that Habba Khatoon’s life history is woven around different tales, and it becomes difficult to differentiate between fact and fiction (99). Isn’t this strange that these people were writing the history of Kashmiri literature, but didn’t bother to solve the riddle that surrounds Habba Khatoon? What kind of ‘History’ is it? They say that Habba Khatoon’s name comes up for the first time in the Afghan period (1760 AD) in Abdul Wahab Shayiq’s book Riyadh Al-Islam—earlier, we saw that Shayiq’s chronicle was entitled Gulistan-e-Kashmir. Here, we have a different title! Which one is correct?—who says that “[t]here [in Yousuf Shah Chak’s court] was a lady named Habiba, a mystic woman of high spiritual rank”. Was Habiba the Habba Khatoon of Kashmir? The question needs to be answered. Munawar and Shauq also say that Habba Khatoon was born as Zoon and was married to Yousuf Shah Chak. When Yousuf was exiled, she lived a wanderer’s life and died a lonely death. According to the authors, she was buried at Pantachowk. However, they refer to the latest research (without referring to any research book or any researcher), which shows that Habba Khatoon was allowed to meet with her husband in Biswak as he was feeling very miserable in her absence. Yousuf Shah would bewail (Munwar & Naji 100):
در آرزوئے آں بت کشمیر نژادے
شد تارسر و مار سر از گریہ دو چشم
dar ārzū-ye ān but-e kashmīr-najāde, shod tār sar o mār sar az giryah do chashm
In longing for that idol born in Kashmir,
My two eyes have become tangled and serpentine with tears.
The authors also relate the story contained in a Mathnavi ‘Habba Khatoon’ by Ghulam Muhammad Hanafi of Sopore. According to Hanafi, Habba Khatoon was the daughter of Malik Darab of China—another version says that she was the daughter of Bota Raj; the other two characters remain the same. Malik Darab couldn’t pay his debt to Hayaband of Lalahome and instead of that, he gave Habba Khatoon as a money bride to his son, Aziz Lone—so Aziz Lone wasn’t from Zoon’s village but from Gurez. How did Abdi Rather come into the picture? Habba wasn’t treated well by her in-laws. One day, she was spotted by Yousuf Shah Chak who fell in love with her at first sight and took her to his harem. When Akbar exiled Yousuf, Habba Khatoon lived in the home of Abdi Rather at Pampore. After her death, she was buried at Pantachowk (Munawar and Shauq 100). Habba Khatoon had achieved immense fame because of Yousuf Shah Chak, and in his court, she manifested her talent in music and invented ‘raast kashmiri’ (Kashmiri musical tune), which she used in her poetry (op cit).
That Habba Khatoon was buried in Biswak after she was allowed to meet with her husband has become a burning topic on social media these days. One of the Kashmiri scholars, Professor Shad Ramzan, had recently visited Biswak and seen the grave of Habeeba or Habba Khatoon: “I recently visited Biswak myself to understand the local perspective. The residents there identify a site known as “Habba Bibi ki Qabar,” which they believe to be the grave of Habba Khatoon. Interestingly, descendants of Yousuf Shah Chak still live in the area, further strengthening the historical link between Kashmir’s last queen and this distant region of Bihar” (Kashmir Pen, 14 October 2025)—The present writer had a chance telephonic conversation with one of the caretakers of the Chak grave in Biswak, Dr Khalid S Chak, a few days back who told me that they have been holding the grave of Habeeba in Biswak as the gave of Habba Khatoon for centuries. However, he couldn’t give me any authentic source except the name of Muhammad Din Fauq. At the end of his essay, Professor Shad Ramzan asks historians and scholars to “undertake a serious and evidence-based inquiry into the life and legacy of Habba Khatoon — a woman who transcended her time to become an enduring symbol of Kashmir’s cultural and spiritual identity. Based on existing historical and literary evidence, and supported by oral traditions and local testimonies, it appears most plausible that the final resting place of Habba Khatoon lies in Biswak, Bihar — beside her beloved, Yousuf Shah Chak”. Even Professor Shad has doubts about the authenticity of the Biswak grave. The question arises what “evidence” would researchers gather and from where? We have seen that neither the old chronicles nor the new history books have documented the life account of Habba accurately.
Mr Abdal Mahjoor contests the whole idea that Habba Khatoon was any queen and/or had ever travelled beyond Kashmir. In his write-up, ‘Debunking the Myth: The Truth About Habba Khatoon’s Life and Final Resting Place’ (Kashmir Pen 9 October 2025), he says:
“Contemporary historical sources, including Persian and local Kashmiri chronicles, make no mention of any woman named Habba Khatoon being married to Yousuf Shah Chak. This absence is not a trivial detail. Chroniclers of that era meticulously documented the lives of kings, their consorts, and royal events. If Habba Khatoon had indeed been his wife, such an important detail would not have escaped the attention of these historians. The silence of the sources is itself a strong historical rebuttal to the popular myth” about Habba Khatoon and Yousuf Shah Chak’s romantic love affair and/or marriage.
Mr Abdal tells me (personal communication) that his grandfather, Mahjoor, had written a biography of Habba Khatoon, which after his death, his son, Ibn-e-Mahjoor (real name Mohammad Amin), had given to Mohammad Yousuf Taing, the then Secretary Cultural Academy, for publishing. According to Mr Abdal Mahjoor, the manuscript has neither been published in a book form nor returned to the owners to date [The Mahjoors have not been able to preserve the rich legacy that they should have as heirs to one of the great sons of our soil, Mahjoor, popularly known as ‘Shayir-e-Kashmir’ (Kashmir’s Poet)]. Kamil (Footnote 2 of 1995 book) has stated that Mahjoor had visited Chandahar to learn about Habba Khatoon and made an entry in his diary on 28 April 1940, which reads as: chandahār mein Habba Khatoon ki nisbat tahqīqāt kiyā gaya (Research was conducted in Chandahar regarding Habba Khatoon)—“tahqīqāt” is feminine in Urdu. It’s strange that Mahjoor, a person with proficiency in Urdu, should use it as ‘masculine’! Mahjoor seems to have written a complete biography and shared it with Professor Muhammad Mujeeb of Jamia Millia Islamia, who wrote a play ‘Habba Khatoon’ in 1952 (published by Maktaba Jamia Limited, New Delhi). In the ‘Foreword’ (p.5), Professor Mujeeb writes: yeh drama habba khatoon ki us sawānih ‘umri ko sāmanay rakh kar likhā gayā hai jise maulānā mahjoor sāhib ne murattab farmāyā hai (This play has been written based on the biography of Habba Khatoon, compiled by Maulana Mahjoor.)—Mahjoor would wear an achkan (a knee-length coat with a round collar and buttoned at the chest) and a turban which is why Professor Mujeeb calls him ‘Maulana’ (Abdal Mahjoor, personal communication). Sadly, this important work by Mahjoor has yet to see the light of day. Had this been published, perhaps a lot of new information would have been added to our understanding of Habba Khatoon. Mahjoor’s grandson, Mr Abdal Mahjoor, tells us that Habba Khatoon is buried in Athwajan (Pantachowk), where a structure was erected under the supervision of Mahjoor in 1950. The then Prime Minister of Jammu & Kashmir, Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, had visited the grave along with Mahjoor—Mr Abdal had shared the photo (given) of the visit on social media. Intriguingly, Sheikh Abdullah visited Biswak also in 1978 when he was the CM of Jammu & Kashmir: “In 1978, Sheikh Abdullah, along with Mohammad Yousuf Taing, travelled to Biswak in Bihar to examine the graves of Habba Khatoon and Yousuf Shah Chak. Both later documented their observations — Sheikh Abdullah in Urdu and Taing in Kashmiri — giving the first credible recognition to Biswak as the likely burial site” (Shad Ramzan)—What was the basis of Teng’s assertion, even after having Mahjoor’s biography of Habba Khatoon with him? Mahjoor had brought the then Prime Minister of J&K on board only after conducting research into Zoon, aka Habba Khatoon’s life. It must have been only after due deliberations that the PM had asked Mahjoor to build a tomb at Athwajan. However, Mr Abdal maintains that “the grave often mistaken as Habba Khatoon’s in Biswak is, in fact, that of Yousuf Shah Chak’s actual wife — the mother of his son, Yaqoob Chak. Historical records indicate that Yousuf Shah settled in Biswak with his family following his exile, and his wife was buried alongside him. The conflation of her identity with Habba Khatoon’s is a classic case of historical misunderstanding perpetuated by generations of oral tradition”.
Contrary to the popular belief that Habba Khatoon hailed from Chandahar, one of our contemporary historians, Dr Abdul Ahad, strongly believes (it is a belief only with no proof) that she was from Shehr-e-Khas: “It is my conviction that Habba Khatoon was a daughter of Shehr-e-Khas — the cultured heart of Srinagar — and not of some remote village. The very idiom and diction of her poetry reveal an urbane grace and linguistic refinement that could only have blossomed in the city’s literary milieu” (‘Habba Khatoon Lives Beyond Myth’, Kashmir Pen)—We will be looking at Habba Khatoon’s diction when we discuss her poetry later on. Mr Sufi Ghulam Rasool, the first and former Chief Information Commissioner of Jammu and Kashmir mentions that late Professor Akbar Hyderi, Professor of Urdu at Jammu and Kashmir University, had done some research on Habba Khatoon and “had vehemently challenged the narrative that Habba Khatoon was a poetess of repute and also Queen of Yousuf Shah Chak, supposedly the last Independent Kashmiri ruler (or belonging to larger Kashmiri Stock)”. Sufi also contests the claim that Habba Khatoon’s burial place is in Biwak. According to Sufi, Hyderi had drawn inferences from Avtar Krishan Rehbar’s kaeshri adbaech taereekh (History of Kashmiri Literature, Vol 1, 1965). Rehbar writes: “Habba Khatoon and Yousuf Shah Chak (1558-1585) had a very close relationship. Was she his queen or his mistress? This still requires a lot of research. However, the oldest and most reliable accounts of the Khatoon do not in any way confirm that she was Yusuf Shah Chak’s queen” (237). Rehbar also mentions Pantachowk as the last resting place of Habba Khatoon (239), which was known as the Poets’ Graveyard (mazar-e-sho’ra). In a footnote (239), Rehbar notes that Bazaz and Azad identified the same place as her grave, where, later, Mahjoor was also buried. On 9 April 1952, Mahjoor was re-buried at the same place where Zoon aka Habba Khatoon is believed to have been buried. Maulana Masoodi’s, a political leader, got this couplet engraved on the tombstone:
bane hubba khatoon ke hamsaya aaj,
yeh marhoom, maghfoor, mahjoor hain.
Became the neighbour of Habba Khatoon today,
This is departed pardoned Mahjoor.
DECONSTRUCTING HISTORY
Our discussion of this ghost or enigmatic character in our literary history has yielded nothing but a polyonymous woman: Habeeba, aka Zoon, aka Habba Kahtoon, three personas with different backgrounds and characteristics. Which one is the real person?
(to continue)
Habba Khatoon: Deconstructing History
Professor Muhammad Aslam
[In continuation of the previous]
We have seen that the old chronicles fail to give any clue that A Habba Khatoon or A Zoon was there in Yousuf Shah Chak's palace. Shayiq tells us that there was some Habeeba in Yousuf's court, who was a pious lady: chu budah ast khātūn Habībah ba-nām/yakī 'ārifah büd sahib-i maqam ("There was a lady named Habiba; she was a mystic, a woman of spiritual rank"). Kachroo tells us that Yousuf Shah's men spotted Zoon, and she was honoured to share his bed. Baharitan-e-Shahi (no author no publication date) doesn't talk about any woman in the palace except that Akbar had gifted Yousuf Shah two mistresses. Obviously, Akbar wouldn't know Zoon or Habba Khatoon; she couldn't be the one among the two mistresses. Despite devoting two chapters to the rise and fall of Yousuf Shah Chak and minutely detailing intrigues/wars against him, the author chose to remain silent about the king's personal life. Hassan Khoyhami talks about Yousuf Shah Chak's amorous life: "Because of his excessive youthful thoughts and indulgence in sensual matters, he could not pay attention to the affairs of governance. Day and night, he lived a life of pleasure and luxury, absorbed in worldly desires, gatherings of joy and merriment, music and song, and the company of singers and dancing women. He had a natural poetic temperament; therefore, he could compose verses in Persian, Hindi, and Kashmiri extemporaneously" (Tareekh-e-Hassan, vol. 2, 2013, Srinagar: Ali Mohammad & Sons. Trans. Professor (Dr) Sharief Hussain Qasmi, p. 266). Khoyhami also briefly talks about Habba Khatoon and says that Yousuf Khan (Yousuf Shah Chak) met Habba by chance, and listening to her notes in the maqam-e-Iraq, he was captivated. After paying handsomely to her parents, he honoured her by sharing his bed. He says that "Habba Khatoon was unmatched in beauty, charm, melodious voice, and graceful manners. The notes of her songs in the 'maqam-e-Iraq' could leave listeners spellbound and unconscious" (ibid.). In her company, he would wander in meadows and scenic resorts, especially Gulmarg, Sona Marg, Ahrabal, and Achabal (ibid.). Amin Kamil (1995) tells us that Mohammad Din Fauq had benefited from Mahjoor's views on Habba Khatoon. So had Professor Mujeeb read Mahjoor's biography of Habba Khatoon while writing a play in Urdu, Habba Khatoon. Kamil's Habba Khatoon (1959 and 1995) is a comprehensive analysis of the old chronicles and their failure in solving the riddle surrounding Habba Khatoon. Providing a brief assessment of the various sources of Habba Khatoon, Kamil (1995: 52-58) concludes by saying that "many aspects can come to light through discussions if, along with considering what others have said, one also applies one's own analytical thinking". Nobody has heeded his suggestion.
Walkhu's (1994) Habba Khatoon appears to me more like Arabian Nights than a factual history. Wakhlu's assertion about Zoon being named Habba Khatoon not in the court of Yousuf Shah Chak but by a saint, much before she became the queen, is in contradiction to the tradition. Wakhlu has given a detailed account of how Habba Khatoon would advise Yousuf Shah Chak in administrative matters and actively participate in the affairs of the court: "Day by day Yusuf loved an easy and care-free life and allowed her to give orders. He found her wise and sought her advice. The love and concord of Yusuf and Habba were as close as nut-kernels in one shell" (p. 185). Following Khoyhami (p. 267), he has related an incident which, to me, is no less than a fairy tale. Khoyhami hasn't given any characters to the story, but Wakhlu has mentioned four main characters, excluding the maids and servants in the palace. The story (pp. 200-203) is that of Gaffara, his wife, Zubeda, Habba Khatoon, and Yousuf Shah Chak. The story begins with Gaffara's wife preparing her bed, and her husband, feeling sick and mentally perturbed. He had seen a magnificent beauty at a window. He was sleepless and ran in fever. His wife, Zubeda, Habba Khatoon's personal maid, who lay by his side, enquired of him the reason for his suffering. Gaffara told her that he was mentally restless. He wouldn't give any reasons for his "mental restlessness", though his wife tried her best. When his condition deteriorated, a hakim was called. On seeing the patient, he laughed and told his wife that Gaffara was in love. Zubeda was stunned. She loved her husband and insisted that he should divulge the name of the dame who he had fallen in love with. After much persuasion, Gaffara told her that it was Habba Khatoon. One day, Habba Khatoon found her maid ill and haggard. She asked her about her ailment. After great insistence, Zubeda informed her about the reason. Habba told her not to worry and thought about a plan which she shared with her husband, Yousuf Shah Chak. Habba wrote the 'drama' and directed it herself. A room in the palace was well decorated and lit with fantastic lighting, giving it an aura of a magical room-I was reminded of a language-teaching method developed by Georgi Lozanov, a Bulgarian psychologist and educator, called Suggestopedia. The servants and maids were strictly ordered not to disclose anything about the room to anybody. Gaffara was given the assurance that Habba had been contacted and informed about his love for her-Khoyhami (267) says that Habba Khatoon herself talked to the man. He was happy, took a bath and was led to the magical room where everything seemed like Alice's Wonderland. In the magical room, Gaffara spent three nights enjoying the bed with Habba Khatoon (that is what he was made to believe). Gaffara was completely cured. After three days, Zubeda told him that it was she and not Habba who he had spent the three nights with. Gaffara was astonished and felt ashamed that he had made a wish that could never be fulfilled. He apologized to Habba Khatoon. At the conclusion of the drama, Yousuf Shah was told about it, and he felt very happy and proud that his wife had managed the show very skilfully. This is how Wakhlu seems to have fantasized the whole life of Zoon aka Habba Khatoon
GMD Sufi (Kashmir: Being a History of Kashmir From the Earliest Times to Our Own. 2018. 3rd Ed. Srinagar: Ali Mohammad & Sons) talks about Zoon becoming Habba Khatoon when "[o]ne day, while singing in a saffron field, her melodies reached Yusuf Shah who happened to pass by. The Prince was captivated. This was a turning point in the life of Habba. She was henceforth a queen and was called the Nur Jahan of Kashmir" (p. 47). However, he says that after the king was exiled "Habba forsook the world and became a hermitess" (ibid). According to Sufi, Habba lived in a small cottage and "passed the rest of her life in contemplation and is believed to be burried [sic] there, though the exact grave cannot be definitely recognized" (p. 48). Abdul Ahad Azad, the most revered literary historian and poet, has also failed to provide any authentic view of Zoon, who he says had become Habba Khatoon, a queen of Yousuf Shah Chak-It is important to note that Azad and Mahjoor were friends. Mahjoor must have shared his findings with Azad. As mentioned elsewhere, Azad had travelled extensively collecting information about the various old and new poets of his time; he seems to have concentrated more on their kalam (poetry) than their life sketches. Building his short narrative on oral tradition, he has added nothing to what the popular belief has been. I wonder on what basis Gunjoo equated Azad's poor history with Browne's A Literary History of Persia and Maulana Shibli Nomani's She'r-ul-Ajam, which are widely considered the best literary ventures because of their depth and comprehensive research. Avtar Krishan Rehbar's (1965) and Naji Munawar and Shafi Shauq (2014) too haven't gone beyond the beaten track. Munawar & Shauq's Kaeshir Zaban ta Adbuk Tawareekh, though written almost five decades after Rehbar's Kaeshri Adbaech Taereekh leaves the reader wanting in unlocking the identity of Zoon aka Habba Khatoon. To me, the book seems to have been written with virtually no research done in identifying the real Habba Khatoon. Is there a way to resolve this issue and let Kashmiris know who this woman with three names- Habeeba, Habba Khatoon and Zoon was actually? Written records given us three different personas:
1 Habeeba:
The royal court's beautiful lady with a mesmerizing voice. She was pious, an 'arifa' (ascetic). No 'arifa' would like to be a concubine, however great a man might be. Therefore, Kamil's (1995. Footnote 1, p. 34) assertion that this name was used to suit the Persian diction seems far-fetched. Since there is no poetry of Habeeba available, she can't be taken as Habba Khatoon who has remained a household name in Kashmir for centuries.
2 Zoon:
Two different Zoons: One born to Bota Raj and sold to Kashmiri shawl vendors. THE Zoon born to some Bota Raj appears to be a false narrative to justify the name of a mountain peak in Gurez. To my mind, Kashmiris, in general, and Kashmiri shawl vendors, in particular, have never been so inhuman as to accept (or ask for) a child, especially if it is a girl, in place of money. Therefore, this narrative must be rejected outright. The second one, born to Abdi Rather and married to Aziz Lone and thereafter to Yousuf Shah Chak. This seems simply an imaginary creation of Mohammad Din Fauq. Abdi Rather, Aziz Lone, and Zoon, first the village woman and then a queen of Kashmir, appear fictitious to me.
3 Habba Khatoon:
Born in a rich and noble family in Shehar (I am assuming that Shehar meant Srinagar, though Pandrethan could have been a city in those days), married to her cousin before becoming one of the queens of Yousuf Shah. How did she reach Chandahar, Pampore? Unless we establish a relationship between Srinagar's rich family and Abdi Rather of Chandahar, there is no way to believe that after her divorce from her cousin, Habba Khatoon had Aziz Lone as her second husband. Maybe she was remarried somewhere else and made her first love a permanent theme of her poetry! We will explore this later when I discuss her poetry.
The Zoon of Chandahar has reigned over the psyche of the Kashmiri ethos for centuries. Even though her life has remained a mystery, she has continued to enjoy popularity because of the socially relevant songs attributed to her. The question arises that if Zoon, as claimed by Wakhlu, had burnt all her work before she died, whose vatsan (a form of poetry) and vaakhs do Kashmiris sing? Nobody seems to have refuted Wakhlu so far. Moreover, tradition has it that Zoon was a village girl, married to a village boy and, much later, went into the harem of Yousuf Shah Chak either as a queen or a concubine. SL Sadhu (Habba Khatoon. 1999. 2nd. Trans.
Professor Mohammad Zaman Azurdah. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi) doesn't have any definite answer to whether she was a queen or a keep (p. 30). However, Khoyhami (2013) says that she became a concubine, which is carried forward by Wakhlu and others. Whether a queen or a keep, the fact remains that Zoon of Chandahar continues to be an important figure in our folklore-it need not be true also. The Habba Khatoon of Shehr-e-Khas, Sringar, is present in poems where she gives her family background-parents, husband, and the place where she was married, and her upbringing. There is no proof of her having been married to either Aziz Lone or Yousuf Shah Chak. As we will see, in her poems, THE Habba Khatoon of Srinagar tells us more about her life than people have really paid attention to. Is it possible to know who Habba Khatoon was? Yes, it is. Modern science has a solution. Centuries-old bones can often tell us quite a lot about the identity of the person buried in a grave. Forensic anthropologists and bioarcheologists can help us estimate (1) a biological profile and (2) DNA and genetic identity that would identify the person. But will this be allowed? Given our conservative outlook and lack of a scientific bent of mind, this seems an uphill, if not an impossible, task. In the absence of such a scientific investigation, Habeeba, Habba Khatoon, or Zoon will remain a mystery.
Burial Place
A scientific approach would also solve the riddle of whether Habeeba in Biswak is the real Habba Khatoon and/or if the grave at Pantachowk is that of Zoon, aka Habba Khatoon. Otherwise, claims made by Professor Shad Ramzan and Mr Abdal Mahjoor cannot be verified. According to Kamil (1995), Mr Yousuf Teng had claimed in one of his write-ups that Habba Khatoon's grave was at Biswak. Lately, Mr Taing, in conversation with a friend of mine, quoted Mahjoor's following as proof of Habba Khatoon's burial place at Biswak:
Born in a farmer's home in Chandahar.
Fate made me queen.
Even in that splendour, I feared God.
My beloved-ah, he loves me not.
In no way do these lines relate to the burial place. Also, these lines are autobiographical in nature. The last line is elegiac because the poet says that her lover doesn't love her. Had Yousuf abandoned her? Moreover, the Kashmiri expression 'padsha bhai' (queen) need not be taken in its literal meaning only. Figuratively, Kashmiris still use the expression for a married woman who is living like a queen (a comfortable life) with her in-laws-soa che vaervi padsha bhai (She is a queen at her in-laws). Mr Taing should know that Abdul Ahad Azad had much before Mahjoor, in 1945, said this about Habba Khatoon in vign-i-vanvun ('Sweet Melody'. See Padam Nath Gunjoo. Kuliyat-e-Azad. 1967. J&K Academy of Art, Culture and Languages. Pp. 424-25):
A peasant maiden she was from Chandhar, Zoon by name
King Yousuf's beloved Habba Khatoon.
My friend, her wisdom crowned her with fame
Come, my friend, let us stroll amidst the garden of flowers.
Mahjoor had chided Rasul Mir of Shahabad for ignoring the Moon (Zoon) of Chandahar:
Why was Shah Abadi Mir seeking Qandahar's Moon?
Why didn't he remember Chandahar's Moon?
Rasul Mir (kuliyat-e-Rasul Mir. 2001. J&K Academy of Art, Culture & Languages, P. 150) had said:
You have shamed even Qandahar's Moon, my Sun.
Beneath your burning gaze, I fade unmoving, undone, and far too young.
INTERPOLATION:
What was special about the Qandahar Moon? Kamil (1995, p. 61) takes it in the sense of 'mah-e-nakhshab'. Nakhshab is an ancient name for the modern city of Qarshi in southern Uzbekistan, where Ibn Ata aka Ibn Muqanna had created an artificial moon (between 775 and 783 AD) that rose every evening from a well in the foothills of Mount Siyam near Nakhshab. This moon illuminated an area of twelve miles with its light. Hence, a symbol for extreme beauty. Mirza Ghalib had said:
chhorã mãh-e nakhshab ki tarah dast-e qazā ne
khorshid hanüz us ke barābar na hua tha
Fate cast him aside like the Moon of Nakhshab,
And even the sun had not yet risen to match his brilliance.
Anyways, the above discussion in no way tells us about the burial place of Habba as Mr. Taing claimed. Kamil (1995), referring to an article by S Razi (in Shiraza, May-June 1989: 60), wherein he had quoted a 19th-century Kashmiri poet, Wahab Lone, who said:
He docked the boat in Pandrethan.
At Pantha Chowk, he sat down in front of the Khatoon.
He was talking in Athwajan.
Since then, I've been waiting for him.
"Khatoon" is obviously Habba Khatoon, but it doesn't say that she was buried there. As mentioned earlier, the Zoon of Chandahar was created by Mohammad Din Fauq out of his own imagination. He seems to be a good storyteller, and His-Story went into our folklore. He must have the cue from Mahjoor's biography.. Unfortunately, the latter's biography isn't available, and we have no way to confirm that Zoon really existed. Yousuf Shah Chak lived a very amorous life. Maybe some concubine was there of this name.
This GHOST will haunt Kashmiris till doomsday. Since nobody seems to have refuted Wakhlu's assertion that Zoon aka Habba Khatoon, burnt all her work before she died, we have to believe that the poetry that we listen to and/or read is that of THE Habba Khatoon of Shehr-e-Khas, which I am going to prove by textual analyses of her poems as I find them very informative about who this Habba Khatoon was. Whether or not this Habba Khatoon became the queen of Yousuf Shah Chak will remain a mystery, though. Let us see how poems help us in identifying this enigmatic poet.
(Historical discussion concluded
HABBA KHATOON: THROUGH A POETIC LENS
Intro:
This essay will attempt to analyse the poems which are attributed to Zoon, aka Habba Khatoon, and see if they, in any way, tell us about who she really was. Scholars have used this poetry as an
indicator of her marital failures and as a proof that she was either Zoon from Chandahar or Habba Khatoon of Srinagar. Was Zoon a peasant girl married to an illiterate and ill-tempered Aziz Lone, or was she Habba Khatoon from a noble family and married to her cousin in
Srinagar? These questions will be the focal point of our discussion. We will use her poetry as a lens for minutely detailing whether her poems help us solve the riddle of her being the
Chandahar Zoon or the Srinagarite Habba Khatoon. Later on, we will analyze the poems stylistically and see whether the language used is really that of a 16th-century poet or a modern poet of the last century.
ZOON OR HABBA KHATOON'S POETRY?
As said earlier, there are three personas that have emerged out of our discussion of the historical accounts: Zoon from Chandahar, Habeeba, a pious court singer, and Habba Khatoon of
Srinagar, belonging to a noble family. Since Habeeba’s name occurs only in one Persian chronicle and is described only as a singer with a melodious voice, we have no reason to believe that she was the Habba Khatoon whose songs Kashmiris have been admiring and singing for centuries. I have also pointed out earlier that THE Zoon from Gurez is only a figment of imagination. We are left with THE Zoon from Chandahar and THE Habba Khatoon of Srinagar.
Even if the former had been there, there is no proof, except the folklore, about her being from Chandahar and in a farmer’s family. Assuming that she was a poet too, according to Wakhlu, she destroyed all her work before she died at Pandrethan where her supposed grave is. So, we are left with one Habba Khatoon from Shehr-e-Khas (Downtown) Srinagar.
We will be looking at these poems critically to identify who this person was.
WHAT KIND OF POEMS ARE THEY?
Habba’s poems are basically lyrics, deeply personal, reflecting pain and the highest emotional stress. In common parlance, they are called vaakh, three-line stanzas with a refrain as the fourth
line. To my mind, Vaakh in Kashmiri is vedaakh or baakh (wailing), the former meaning ‘wailing’ and the latter denoting ‘wailing and crying in pain.’ Both these expressions are still used in Kashmiri dialects. In South Kashmir, ‘baakh tshataen’ (to wail) is used when a female
weeps bitterly over the loss of her dear ones or if she is facing any great problems (like poverty) that she cannot solve. Veddakh din’ means to mourn the death by crying and relating one’s
association with the deceased. Lal Ded wrote vaakhs, four-line lyrics, while Habba Khatoon used three-line stanzas whose rhyme scheme is ABA with a refrain, which is normally the second line of the beginning couplet. For illustrations, I am using Kamil’s Habba Khatoon: Select Poems (1959; there are 12 poems in the anthology) and Kuliyat-e-Habba Khatoon (1995), both published by J&K Academy of Art, Culture and Languages, and Kuliyat-e-HabbaKhatoon (224), published by M/S Sheikh Mohammad Usman (hereafter Usman only). The former has used the traditional three-stanza with a refrain format, whereas the latter calls all poems ‘ghazals,’ which they are NOT. The ghazal consists of syntactically and grammatically complete couplets following an intricate rhyme scheme. Each couplet ends on the same radeef
(word or phrase) and is preceded by the qafia (a rhyming word), appearing twice in the first couplet. This is called matla’ in Urdu; the last couplet, where the poet uses his/her nom de plume (takhalus), is known as maqta’. Therefore, the pattern given in the Kamil collection is
appropriate and in keeping with the poetic tradition in Kashmir. Also, in the Usman collection, there are 16 poems without takhalus, whereas in Kamil, there are 13. Some poems are very
short (one or two stanzas). Kamil’s anthology contains 50 poems, and the Usman collection consists of 53.
VEDAAKH
Habba Khatoon’s poems are vedaakh/vaakh (wailing) in nature, as they manifest her agony and
suffering through carefully chosen words, as in:
chon firaaq chum lalavunye a
son kun te lagihi naav b
vanta kath kyuth myon aasunye a
madun kor kunye gov refrain
Your absence burns through me with a restless ache.
If only the drifting boat would turn once more toward our shore.
Tell me, what worth has this life of mine now?
In which direction has my beloved gone?
Lal Ded would say:
leka ta thokka peth sheri hetsam
nyanda sapanim path bronth taani
lalla ches kal zanh no tshenim
ada yali sapanim vepihe kyah
I bore the weight of taunts and bitter tongues.
Rumours rose like storms from every corner of my past and present.
Yet I remained Lalla, faithful to the ache within my heart.
And when I finally reached the goal I longed for,
No whisper, no wound, no darkness could touch me.
Vatsun is also a lyrical composition with a deep emotional outburst, as we find in the poems attributed to Habba Khatoon. In a way, both vaakh and vatsun mean the same—lyrical poems that manifest deep anguish and emotional distress. Both Lal Ded and Habba Khatoon express their personal grief, as both are believed to have suffered at the hands of their respective inlaws. However, Lala went into mysticism, while Habba Khatoon used the lyrical form, vedaakh/vaakh, as a painful cry for the sufferings that she had to undergo.
I have maintained earlier that the Habba songs are as confusing as her historical accounts. I would try to demonstrate how folk songs have been mixed up with some lyrics to show that they belong to Habba Khatoon, the one present through her poems. While going through these songs, I felt that unless Wakhlu’s (1994) claim is rebutted, there is no scope for any doubt that Zoon of Chandahar, even if she had existed, had burnt her work before she died.
Let us start with Habba Khatoon, who our own historian, Dr Abdul Ahad, and Professor Shad Ramzan claim belonged to a noble family. I would like to make it clear that all the poems cited
below are, to me, autobiographical. Here is the poem in which Habba Khatoon talks about her lineage (PHOTO 1). In the three marked lines, Habba Khatoon tells us the names of her father, mother, and her familial background. She says
(I am providing photos of original texts with English transliteration and
translation):
maelis naav chum sayidul bahar
maaji naav chum badval jamal
sayid kur ches pur kamalo
My father bears the noble name Sayyidul-Bahar.
My mother’s name is Badwal-Jamal.
And I — a daughter of the Sayyids —am grace refined.
Habba Khatoon was a ‘Sayyid,’ a prefix that was used by a large number
of missionaries who came to Kashmir with Mir Sayyid Ali Hamadani,
popularly known as Amir-e-Kabeer, in whose name there are khanqahs
(shrines) in almost all parts of Kashmir; the most revered one is in
Downtown Srinagar at Kalashpora. Sayyids/Syeds claim a direct
lineage with Prophet Mohammad (SAW). They claim to be on top of the
social hierarchy, or “caste” system, among Muslims. It was later also adopted by many locals who claim to be descendants of the Persian Sayyids. Habba’s parents’ names also sound quite
alien to local names.
As we can see, in the encircled lines, the first two lines do not match the rest of the poem in rhyme. They have “r” and “l” sounds at the end, and the last line has the usual rhyme “lo”—“kamalo.” Have they been interpolated? Kamil (1995) doesn’t contain these three lines.
However, in Footnote 4 (pp. 17-18), Kamil says that this stanza was sung on Radio Kashmir by Mohammad Akbar and his chorus on 5 April 1976, and by a street singer, Abdul Ahad Bakhshi.
He also writes that both these singers used “baabas” instead of “maelis” in “baabas naav chum Sayyidul Baharo”— “baaba” (same as in Hindi) and “mo:l” are homophones, meaning ‘father’.
Also, note the addition of “o” in “Baharo,” which rhymes with the rest of the lines. If we look at the theme of the poem, these lines seem to me a complete misfit. There is a sudden shift from a
wake-up call—vathu laalo nindre (Awake from your slumber, my love)—to giving a personal account. Kamil doesn’t say why he left this stanza out of the main text.
Notwithstanding this unusual rhyme and its exclusion in Kamil (1995), the lines do tell us that Habba Khatoon belonged to a Sayyid dynasty and was not, as is claimed, a peasant girl. Her parental home (called maalyun in Kashmiri) was no ordinary place but the home of
landlords about whom she talks in a poem (PHOTO 2):
maalin’ myaen arbaab aesi
tavai draam habba khotoon naav
kam kam gandar aaye tsasith
doh dari yaamat loosith gom
My family came from the landlords.
That’s how I got the name Habba Khatoon.
So many handsome boys thronged around.
Ah—the day has long since waned.
Habba’s family belonged to the elite class—landlords, rulers, nobles, and so on. We have clear information here that she wasn’t any Zoon or a farmer’s daughter, but the one who got her name, Habba Khatoon, from her parents. Also, she had earned fame far and wide as a beautiful
damsel who had attracted young men of the town— “So many handsome boys thronged around.” Readers may also notice that, like the above ‘interpolated’ stanza, we find the last word in the first line of this stanza, ‘aesi,’ also not rhyming with earlier endings as if it had been interpolated later. However, this stanza busts the popular myth that Zoon was rechristened as Habba Khatoon either by Yousuf Shah Chak or a Sufi saint. Therefore, no Zoon
existed.
Habba Khatoon wasn’t any ordinary girl but a much-pampered child who was living a luxurious life in her parental home. In a poem, she says,
“My parents raised me in honey and sugar. I would be bathed in milk.” Not only that, but she also had maids who attended on her all the time—she says that there were “thousands” of them, which, though an exaggeration, to my mind, is a way of emphasizing
her extraordinarily high-quality upbringing. She says
(PHOTO 3; encircled stanza):
mael maaji raechnas lola ke voore
saasa baza tsonza aasam sulanavaan
meno zanyov laga yiyime khure
kaensi maa raevin shure paan
My parents raised me with such cherished love.
Thousands of maids cared for me.
I never imagined that I would face such dark days.
Let no one’s childhood ever be lost this way.
Here, Habba Khatoon reflects nostalgically on a privileged
childhood characterized by abundance, affection, and protection. The opening lines—My parents raised me with such cherished love. Thousands of maids cared for me— establish a life of extraordinary comfort and an environment of nearroyal luxury. The presence of “thousands of maids” symbolizes both material wealth and
emotional insulation. She no longer enjoys that world. The third line in the stanza talks about some plight that befell her. What was that? It doesn’t say.
Habba Khatoon was educated. In one of her poems, she mentions (PHOTO 3A):
mael’maaji traevnas sabqas doore
okhnan wolnam moore paan
a’ara ros’ tul’ nam naro tamboore
kaensa ma raevin shoore paan
My parents sent me far away to learn.
The Mulla spared no effort to thrash me.
The merciless set my body aflame.
Let no one’s childhood ever be lost this way.
This sounds so bizarre that a Sayyid girl is sent for education to an Okhoon (Quran teacher) when the whole of Kashmir is indebted to the Sa’adaat for learning the Quran.
FAILED LOVE AND MARRIAGE
That Habba Khatoon was very beautiful and attracted the attention of smart young guys who would flock around her speaks volumes about how famous she had been as a young girl. This
fame must have naturally attracted many suitors because of her family’s status as well. It would be naïve to think that ordinary folks would be interested and/or send the matchmakers.
However, from the flock that thronged her home, she seems to have fallen in love with the one who would loiter around her day and night. Read the poem (PHOTO 4), and you will notice that
there was somebody who followed her, and she, too, was interested in him:
vuchtai vesiye kaendi ba zaayas
baagaen’ aayas kaenhde taam
doh aki kaem’ taam doori vuchayas
vata gat laegith pata pata aam
gara yam tsayas hita beyi draaras
baagaen’ aayas kaenhde taam
doh aki raesa raesa maji nish tsayas
zon gom kath nai bani cham paam
tas nish kath vanani mandchayas
baagaen’ aayas kaenhdi taam
Look, my friend, where I was born,
Where destiny wedded me away.
One day, somebody caught sight of me from afar.
Followed me to my home.
When I entered home, I slipped out again on some small pretext.
Where I was wedded away.
One day, quietly, I went to my mother.
I thought if the thing failed, slander would follow.
Standing before her, I felt ashamed to tell her.
Where destiny wedded me away.
As can be seen, Habba Khatoon wanted to confide in her mother about her love affair but “felt ashamed to tell her,” out of fear of dishonour, which is naturally tied to our societal expectations around purity, obedience, and marriage.
The love seemed to have failed, and Habba speaks about her marriage in
a village. She wails thus (PHOTO 5; encircled stanza):
doh aki mael’ maaji nagri harshayas
sheraech aesas vaetsis gaam
kyah kara pooshina lanin nyayas
baagaen’ ayas kaenhde taam
One day, my parents married me off in a distant town.
A city-born girl, I found myself in a village.
What could I do? I could not wrestle with fate.
Where destiny wedded me away.
Which town was she married in?
What village did she reach as a result of this marriage, and
why?
She belonged to a kind of royal family that showered its intense affection on her. Why would she be married in a village and not the city she hailed from?
In another poem (PHOTO 6), she speaks about being married off in a distant place. She says (encircled stanza):
mael’ maaji harshayas yeli doore
pata pata drayam vesa vanavaan
hola gom aendri lola taloore
kaensa ma raevin shore paan
My parents married me off to some far-off land.
My friends gathered round, singing the bridal songs.
But I, struck by love, mourned in silence.
Let no one’s childhood ever be lost this way.
After this stanza, there is a description of the way the bride’s formal farewell (rukhsati) took place. She was taken in a palanquin whose poles had a silver
coating. Her parents called her deka baej koori (Oh, lucky daughter), whose in-laws were waiting for her. This is how, in our culture, daughters are bade farewell at their marriages, except that Habba went in a palanquin; today we use decorated cars. However, immediately after this, she wails (PHOTO 7; encircled part):
ba chesai yeti tay tsa chuham doore
doshvai drayeyi jaeni jaan
me no zynyov lodmut loore
kaensa ma raevin shore paan
I stand here, and you are far from me.
We were devoted to each other beyond measure.
I’d never thought a carefully built home would collapse.
Let no one’s childhood be lost this way.
The stanza articulates a reflective stance on emotional distance, relational devotion, and the fragility of
constructed stability. It employs spatial separation—“I stand here, and you are far from me”— as a metaphor for the psychological and interpersonal divide that has emerged between Habba
and her husband. The second line underscores the intensity of the prior bond: “We were devoted to each other beyond measure.” The third line used “home” metaphorically for the relationship that existed between the couple—a structure built through care, emotions, and shared expectations. Its collapse highlights the inherent vulnerability of even the most carefully crafted bonds.
What part of Kashmir was she married in?
The earlier stanza indicates that she was married off in a town, and here she mentions an unknown distant place. She belonged to the city and reached a
village—shahraech aesis vaetsis gaam (I was from the city but reached a village), which, let us assume, was far away. What place was this? None of the poems available in the anthologies that I have with me tells us anything. Moreover, was this her first or second marriage? If she was married off in a village, who was the Kamal of Jamalata, Srinagar, then who she has mentioned in one of her poems (PHOTO 8; encircled part):
yaar myon chu jamalati
kamal tas chum naav
su chu tati ba kas matti
aki latti yiham na
My beloved dwells in Jamalata.
Kamal is his name.
He is there, and I am here.
If only he would return for once?
The Above Stanzas Raise Many Queries That Need Answers:
Who was Kamal that she mentions in this stanza, a husband or lover?
Did her parents eventually come to know about their daughter’s love affair?
Did the village marriage happen because of Kamal or the unknown lover who would follow her everywhere?
Did this marriage take place as a punishment for making a friend out of the clan so that the family was saved from any dishonour or slander? Please note that “yaar” is used in different senses in Kashmiri culture. With a male, it means a friend, and ‘friendship’
means ‘yaaraz.’ However, if a female says that someone is my ‘yaar’, it is taken in a
pejorative sense, meaning a boyfriend. When a mother uses it for her son, it means ‘a darling.’ However, using ‘yaar’ for husband isn’t unknown as it shows a wife’s love for her husband.
Why, despite being a Sayyid girl, Habba Khatoon was married off in a distant place where her in-laws ill-treated her?
Does the village marriage point to the fact that Habba Khatoon was abandoned by her parents?
Habba says that her ‘yaar’ is from Jamalata. We know that Jamalata is in Downtown, a few kilometres from the city centre, Srinagar. When did her marriage to Kamal take place, and when did the village marriage happen?
Was Kamal, as is the popular belief, her first husband, who also belonged to the Sayyid dynasty? The Sayyids (also ‘sa’daat) who arrived here in Kashmir with Mir Syed Ali Hamadani in 774 AH (1372 CE), all of them settled around the famous khanqah at Kalashpora, Srinagar, called khanqah-e-moa’la. It was much later that they dispersed across the valley. Here, Habba is talking about her separation from Kamal, but ‘separation’ does not necessarily mean ‘divorce.’ Maybe the couple had differences,
and she had gone to her parental home till the dust settled down. Why would she say, “If only he would return once”? A divorcee never waits for her previous husband. In the following stanza, she says,
“When a friend does not maintain friendship, love does not
remain intact,” and that “she was dying for her friend.” So, she still had a hope of
reunion with her friend/lover/husband.
There is a story behind her relationship with Kamal. It is said that he was her maternal cousin (mother’s brother’s son), but their marriage fell apart for some unknown reasons. If that was true, why was she still hankering for him? Was Kamal only a lover? Was she desperate to get him back (we will discuss this later)? In one of the most popular poems, whose refrain is chaara kara myon malino (O, my parents, come to my aid!), she portrays a very grim picture of her married life. She is wailing over the troubles she is facing and asking her parents to come to her rescue. The poem (PHOTO 9; from
the Usman collection) depicts one of the saddest aspects of our culture in which the institution of, especially, the mother-in-law, has proved to be the worst in its treatment of daughters-in-law,
even though we aren’t alone in this crime. In the subcontinent, this is prevalent in all societies—Muslims, Hindus, and so on. Although a lot of change has taken place, we continue to hear about cases where the daughters-in-law complain about their mothers-in-law and vice versa.
Let us read the poem in transliteration and translation:
vaeriven’ saet’ varah chesno
chara kar myon malino
gari ba drayas aaba natis
nott me phutmo malino
ya ti diytom natti notta nata
hara nattche malino
shur’ paanas sinder gayimo
vudaer khasun kudur pyom
katri tsharaan katri sanimo
vetri noon pyom malino
hashi laeynam topsaey thap
suy me gov mota khota sakh
yindra pachi peth ninder paymo
tsakhaer paethmo malino
yara daade tara gaeyso
baara bukh chum aamutuy
habba khotooni von ishaara
dil hushara malino
Note: Some singers have used the vocative ‘ho’ after malino, which is similar to ‘ay’ in Urdu
or ‘ya’ in Arabic.
I am not comfortable with my in-laws.
Find a remedy for me. Oh, my parents!
I went out to draw a simple pitcher of water,
But the pitcher slipped and shattered.
Bring me another in its place,
Or pay the price of what is lost.
My young bloom, once rising, has begun to fade.
Climbing the highland was a hard toil.
Seeking pebbles, blisters have opened on my feet.
Alas—someone now scatters salt upon my wounds.
Spinning the wheel of yarn, I dozed for a breath,
And the thread snapped in my hand.
My mother-in-law seized me by my hair
This is a torment worse than death.
I writhe with longing for my beloved.
Life has become an affliction.
Understand Habba Khatoon’s allusion,O, my wakeful-hearted parental home.
Here, we get an altogether different picture of Habba Khatoon. A Sayyid girl brought up by her parents with great affection and luxury, all of a sudden, she cries out at the harsh treatment that
she receives from her mother-in-law. Would a person of such stature expect to fetch water in a pitcher, sit on the spinning wheel, and face the wrath of her mother-in-law? To me, this is a
different woman and not Habba Khatoon, the “Sayyid Koor,” describing her pathetic life. Or it may be a simple folk song that is related to the mother-in-law institution that is still prevalent in our society. We do hear such folk songs in weddings even today.
In our culture, a daughter visiting her parental home after marriage isn’t liked by her sister/s-inlaw, which is also described by Habba Khatoon in a stanza like this (PHOTO 10):
doh aki sreh saan malyun gayayas
diko bani kakaeni ditsnam paam
deka raetsi zev nuy kona moyayes
baagaeni ayas kaenhde taam
Here is a poetic English rendering:
One day, with a heart full of longing, I returned
to my parental home.
My fortunate sister-in-law slandered me.
Why didn’t I die the very moment I was born—
Where have I been wedded away?
Study the earlier stanza (9) where Habba is longing for her beloved. She was with her in-laws. Who is she referring to as “my beloved”? Wasn’t her husband, her
beloved, with her? Do we find here a reference to the one she had fallen in love with before marriage? She asks her parents to understand what she was alluding to. It seems that folk songs
have been attributed to Habba Khatoon, an enigmatic personality, who history presents as a Sayyid girl of a royal family, married, and then as a woman married off in a village where she faced her mother-in-law’s ire on petty things. Doesn’t it sound bizarre?
In one of her poems, Habba Khatoon speaks about the passing away of her parents:
deka rostuy koor vadaan myon hyu kas bani tai
gom juda ded ta babai beyi milw nai
aes’ vadaan naala divan grehna math zooni log tai
nyai lanyun vantai kus aenzraevith zanitai
I am the hapless daughter, weeping alone —
Who else could face sorrow like mine?
My parents are gone; never shall we meet again.
We, left behind, wail; the moon’s got eclipsed.
Tell me, who can change what fate has penned?
In the original text, the stanza begins with “deka rostuy,” which I have translated as hapless.
However, in Kashmiri, we also use the term for a widow. In the last stanza of this poem, she prays to God:
Habba Khotoon sahibas kun aerzoya wani tai
Baar sahibo karta saar’nai jantas manz jai
Habba Khatoon will plead before her Lord:
“O my God, grant a place in Heaven to all.”
Habba Khatoon’s suffering hasn’t been just for one reason—lost love or divorce—but also because of the passing away of her parents. However, the lost love seems to have made her very
desperate. Some people have used “Zoon” in aes’ vadaan naala divan grehna math zooni log tai to mean Zoon of Chandahar which, to my mind, is bizarre. The “eclipsed moon” is used to
refer to an unlucky one.
DESPERATE HABBA KHATOON
From the poems/stanzas that we have read so far, it seems that two people are moving side by side with their respective problems. The Sayyid girl found a suitor, but it seems that she failed to confide in her mother her love, and that she was married off to Kamal. All of a sudden Kamal goes missing, and we hear about a marriage in a far-off town or village. However, the longing for the lover hasn’t died down. It seems that Habba Khatoon was desperate to get back to that unknown lover whom she had loved more than anybody else. This love doesn’t seem to be a common affair but a deep one, very close and intimate. There is a poem that I find very sensuous, inviting the lover to cherish the beloved as much as he wishes. The poem’s refrain is
chaav mein daenai posh (Chrish my pomegranate blossom). In the Usman collection, instead of
‘daenai posh’, ‘daanai posh’ (literally a grain of blossom) is written. ‘Dana’ (a grain) is used almost in the same sense in Urdu—chaaval ka ek dana (a grain of rice). However, I believe the
Kamil version is correct. According to the legend, Habba Khatoon was well-versed in the Persian language. It is not, therefore, surprising that she knew what she was talking about while
using the pomegranate blossom metaphorically. The poem (PHOTO 11) is one of the most popular songs sung by many female singers on the radio and TV. Here are its transliteration and
translation:
me kaer’ they kit’ posha dasvanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
ba chesai zameen tsa chukh asmanaiseeras tsa chukj sarposh
ba chesai ne’mat tsa chukh mezmanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
laeley gatti manz tsong zaajanai
baeley roodus na hosh
tsa chuham sham aba chas parvanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
ratshi ratshi retakol chum soranai
bara ma gatshan ashaposh
kuni hita bulbul yita aki aanai
chaav myaen daenai posh
brega teer aesis peth dareechi khanai
roodum tin aa zar josh
ada yikha yeli baal soor paana hanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
bam tai zila chis soz vayanai
vilanay thovtham na hosh
kam kyah govyo yemi myani vanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
ranga ranga thur’ aem’ kraalan banai
byon byon kornakh naqoosh
kenh drai hael’ kael’ kenh jananai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
tsaerith aen’mai phamba moyanai
janana me mo rosh
habba khotooni rovum armanai
chaav myaen’ daenai posh
I gathered bouquets of blossoms for you.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
I am your earth, and you are my sky.
You are the seal upon my secrets.
I am your blessing, and you are my honoured guest.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
Laila had lit a lamp in the dark,
She lost her senses in love.
You are my flame, and I am your moth.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
Slowly, spring is slipping away;
I fear the blossoms may fade.
O my nightingale, find any excuseto visit me for just a moment.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
Once I was a light perched at the window,
But that lustre has faded now.
Will you only come when I am a complete wreck
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
I play my instrument with such yearning,
yet you have never heard the sorrow in my notes.
Tell me, what have you ever found lacking in me?
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
The potter shaped vessels of many kinds,
Each is carved with a different design
Some turned out flawless, some uneven.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
Carefully chose I tufts of soft cotton.
My love, don’t be angry with me.
Habbah Khatoon has lost all hope.
Come, cherish my pomegranate blossom.
This song is a lament of longing and unreturned love. The speaker offers devotion again and again—flowers, affection, constancy—asking her beloved to enjoy her love (“cherish my
pomegranate blossom”). She sees herself as earth to his sky, flame to his moth, a fading light waiting to be noticed. She fears time slipping away, beauty fading, and hope diminishing while her beloved remains
distant. Through metaphors of spring, music, pottery, and flowers, she expresses yearning,
vulnerability, and the pain of being overlooked.
In the end, she admits her despair: despite all her tenderness, her beloved has never truly come to her.
What is the significance of the pomegranate flower here? The poet has used it metaphorically.
When I Googled it, I got this explanation: “In Persian poetry, the pomegranate flower, or (, is primarily used as a powerful metaphor for beauty, love, and passion.” As a گلنار‘Golnar’ (motif, the flower denotes beauty, sensuality, fertility, vitality, blushing, and even a female private part. Pomegranate seeds have been used as a symbol for fertility in ancient Persian poetry. Some Persian poet has said:
anār-e shirin-e tu, ay yār, dilam rā bord,
bā yek negāh-e tu, jān-e man be shādmani mordYour sweet pomegranate,
O beloved, has stolen my heart,
With one glance of yours, my soul dies in joy.
Another poet says:
anār dāne konad har ke del-ash gerefteh shavad
ze lab-e shegofteh-ye yāram che dāneh-hā bechinad
Whoever’s heart is seized with longing scatters pomegranate seeds,
From the blossoming lips of my beloved, what seeds are gathered!
Saadi Shirazi has also used it:
chehre-ye tu cho nār-e shirin, por az dāne-ye ‘eshq,
delam rā be shādi bi-khord, ze boo-ye lab-e tu.
Your face is like a sweet pomegranate, full of love’s seeds.
My heart has feasted joyfully on the scent of your lips.
Jalaluddin Rumi says:
anār-e bāgh-e tu khandid, por az noor-e jān,
ze dāne-hā-ye tu del-e man shod por az ‘eshq-e zibā.
The pomegranate of your garden laughs, full of soul’s light,
From your seeds, my heart overflows with beautiful love.
The seeds symbolize the outpouring of passion, merging physical desire with spiritual ecstasy, a hallmark of Rumi’s Sufi poetry.
No wonder, if Habba Khatoon knew Persian, she would have read these poets also. She, too, is using the “pomegranate blossom” as a motif for attracting the attention of her lover. It seems
that she was a daring woman who could use such sensuous words in those days in a conservative patriarchal society like Kashmir. Or else, some male poet wrote it as a female version of Andrew Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’ and attributed it to Habba Khatoon.
In the last stanza of the poem, Habba Khatoon implores her lover not to be cross with her –“My
love, don’t be cross with me./ Habbah Khatoon has lost all hope.”
In another poem, she also speaks of her lover having left her in the lurch. The refrain of the poem is tse kiho gayi myaen’ diy (Why are you cross with me?).
She says:
osh ches traavan ba tsaale tsaale
meha baali gotshaham tsaey
tsa kovo vata myani aakh maeshravaan
tse kiho gayi myaen’ diy
I am shedding tears as thick as
hailstones.
All this wretched heart desires is you.
Why do you keep forgetting the path that
leads to me?
Why are you cross with me?
In another poem (PHOTO 12A) consisting of only six lines, the beginning couplet and a threeline stanza with a refrain. There is no maqta:In this song, she is complaining about her lover having drifted away from her. Her parental
home being far away (“door malyun chu”), it seems she is living alone and longing for her companion.
Earlier, we saw that Kamal of Jamalata was implored to come once and make Habba’s life comfortable again. This imploring recurs in many poems, but we don’t know who was angry with her —Kamal or someone else. As we know, Kamal was from Srinagar, but Habba was
wedded away in some distant village—when, where, and how, that is not known. But the point is that Habba Khatoon did have a lover other than her husband, who seems to have come into the picture later. Whether it was Kamal from Srinagar or somebody else from the village where Habba Khatoon (of the poems) undergoes immense sufferings, none of the poems tells us that.
In a very popular poem with a refrain, tse kihyo gayiy myaen’ daey (Why this hatred towards me?), Habba tells her lover/husband:
tsae kamyu soni myani brm dit nyunakho
tsekihiyo gayiy myaen’ daey
tsak trav daey malala vonda chuy no yivan
tsekihiyo gayiy myaen’ daey
Which rival of mine deluded you and took you away?
Why this hatred towards me?
Does your heart take pleasure in holding on to anger and disdain?
Why this hatred towards me?
The poet has used ‘sonn’ (co-wife), translated here as ‘rival’, and her deluding the man, which has caused hatred in him towards his ‘first wife’. ‘Sonn’ doesn’t necessarily mean that the man had a fellow-wife. However, the lines do indicate that there was something wrong in the
relationship between the couple.
In a poem (PHOTO 13) with a refrain, myon hyu banith beyiy kas aav (Who else has calamity fallen so fierce as on me?), the narrator is complaining to her lover that she was dying in his
love. She laments:
daadi chyani moyas kas zana vanith
myon hyu banith beyiy kas aav
ashi vani gaemo daer’yaav shanith
door gom panthan kas kara graav
yada taenhdi moyas maaz pyom daezith
myon hyu banith beyiy kas aav
I am dying in your love, but whom can I tell?
Who else has calamity fallen so fierce as on me?
My tears have filled up the river
He has gone away from me; who to complain?
Dying in his longing, I’ve grown frail
Who else has calamity fallen so fierce as on me?
HABBA KHATOON'S SONGS—A CASE OF DISPUTED AUTHORSHIP AND POETIC
MERIT
The above discussion ultimately underscores the textual and historical instability surrounding the songs attributed to Habba Khatoon. Their heterogeneous character—the absence of a maqta in many songs and the sudden, often contradictory autobiographical interpolations—collectively makes us believe that these songs do not have a single authorial voice. The scattered references to lineage, social status, and romantic cobwebs raise more contradictions than coherence. Especially when we look at a suffering wife (God knows whether that of Kamal
or the village guy) and/or the passionate beloved longing for her lover, we feel that there is a lot of confusion in what is being said and how history has treated this figure. The way divergent
narratives are given in some songs, it is difficult to get a convincing biographical sketch of this much-hyped ‘classical’ poet. Their inconsistencies cast doubt on long-standing assumptions about Habba Khatoon’s life and identity—such as the names of her parents (Sayyid al Bahar
and Badwal Jamal) and her beloved (Kamal)—that are internally inconsistent with the persona presented in the majority of the verses. For instance, the figure of ‘Sayyid koor’ (a high-caste
daughter) doesn’t align with the more prevalent persona of a mistreated daughter-in-law in a distant village, pining for her lost love. The three most significant stanzas, where the narrator is
talking about her lineage, social status, love affair, and Kamal, appear, to me, as later interpolations due to their divergent rhyme schemes. The poems raise compelling questions about the poet’s life:
Why was she married far away in a town or village?
What happened to her suitor who loitered around her and whom she couldn’t confide in her mother about?
What happened to Kamal, her ‘yaar,’ for whom she continues to wait—aki latti yiyi
ham na (If only you came once)?
How come a “Sayyid Koor” worked on a spinning wheel and fetched water in a pitcher?
Are we right in our assumption that the Sayyid woman and the village lady are two different personas?
To these and many more questions, no answers are provided, resulting in a collection of unresolved emotional vignettes. This leads to the conclusion that the songs function more as
simple, commonplace folk songs (rof or vanvun) than as well-crafted poems.
Just as important is the question of the literary merit of these songs. As mentioned above, most of them sound more like folk songs that we have been hearing for generations in weddings
and/or Eid celebrations by womenfolk. They are formulaic and lack any philosophical depth. We will look at the stylistic merit of the poems later. The simplicity of diction, repetitive
phrases, and the absence of any serious themes give us the idea that the writer wasn’t an accomplished poet but an insipid versifier.
However, a minority of songs display structural refinement and thematic gravity, pointing to the possibility that multiple hands were involved in composing songs and attributing them to
Habba Khatoon, for some unknown reasons. For instance, a song whose refrain is chumai baali
tamana (I have a longing) is attributed to a saint, Mirza Kamal-ud-din Badakhshi (whose shrine is at Hawal, Srinagar), even though Mirza Kamal wasn’t a Kashmiri and couldn’t write
Kashmiri (see Abdul Ahad Azad, History of Kashmiri Poetry and Literature, vol 2, p. 220; Kamil 1995, Endnote 2, p. 95). Also, I couldn’t find the poem whose one stanza Mr Taing had recited to my friend in support of Biswak being the last resting place of Habba Khatoon.
The stanza goes like this: (Photo 14)
In short, Habba Khatoon, under investigation, who has been popularized for centuries as the most sung poet, is less a historical figure and more an enigmatic character produced by oral
tradition and later insertions. A close study of the poems would enable us to figure out if the popular belief that Habba Khatoon really belonged to the 16th century is true, and whether her
poetry is really that of a seasoned artist. We will therefore look at her diction linguistically and try to find out whether are not her songs are that old and stylistically elegant.
REAASSESSING THE LITERARY LEGACY OF HABBA KHATOON:
Authorship, Attribution, And The Construction Of Popularity
Professor Muhammad Aslam
Intro:
We have discussed Habba Khatoon historically and through her poems, reaching an ultimate conclusion that Habba Khatoon wasn’t the Zoon of Chandahar, nor was she the queen or keep of Yousuf Shah Chak. Yet, she has occupied a unique position in our cultural memory. With a minuscule poetry corpus of 50-odd songs, Kashmiris have been made to believe that she was one of the greatest poets of the 16th century.
This narrative has occupied the minds of Kashmiri scholars for ages. In this essay, I would like to demystify her and demonstrate that (a) not all fifty poems are poetically elegant, (b) not all poems seem to have been written by a single person, and (c) some of the poems are simply folk songs with very little literary value. With this expose, I am wrapping up my discussion of this ghostly and enigmatic so-called literary figure of Kashmir.
Habba Khatoon—An Enigmatic Character
In the foregoing essays, I have demonstrated that Habba Khatoon was neither the Zoon of Chandahar nor a queen or keep of Yousuf Shah Chak. Habba Khatoon got her name from her parents, who held a high status in the Kashmir society then. She says, “maalin myaen arbab aesi/tavai draam habba khotoon naav” (My parents were landlords/That’s how I got the name Habba Khatoon). Habba Khatoon tells us that she belonged to the Sayyids and was a gifted girl.
A striking feature of Habba Khatoon’s oeuvre is its limited size. Only around fifty lyrical compositions are ascribed to her today. This number is small when compared to the extensive works of other celebrated poets in our literary culture. Moreover, out of these fifty compositions, sixteen do not contain any pseudonym that could help us to establish their authorship with certainty. The absence of a takhalus (nom de plume) or any internal marker of identity becomes especially significant in regions with strong oral traditions, where songs often migrate across generations and are routinely reshaped by collective memory. A close examination of the surviving corpus attributed to her reveals a complex interplay between folklore, oral transmission, and later cultural reconstruction. This raises fundamental questions about authorship, authenticity, and the criteria by which a poet is declared “popular” within a literary tradition.
I don’t know whether a corpus of just fifty songs is enough to bestow on Habba Khatoon the status that she has enjoyed, or whether this corpus could really be taken as an authentic source to carve out her literary voyage at a time when Kashmir wasn’t as developed as it is today. The size of the corpus makes me believe that Habba Khatoon’s songs may be better understood as traditional compositions later subsumed under her name to give them literary prestige or emotional resonance.
Moreover, how do we measure “popularity”?
If it is measured in terms of cultural recognition, symbolic presence, and emotional identification within our community, then Habba Khatoon unquestionably occupies an exalted place in Kashmiri cultural consciousness. Her name has become a symbol of longing, melancholy, and feminine expression. However, if popularity is defined through literary criteria—such as the breadth of a corpus, the certainty of authorship, or the documented influence on contemporaneous poets—the claim becomes more problematic. The textual corpus suggests that Habba Khatoon’s fame depends on myth and our collective imagination rather than on her documented literary output.
Habba Khatoon is believed to have lived in the 16th century, during the rule of Ali Shah Chak whose son, Yousuf Shah Chak, was enthroned after him. Since the latter was an amorous and poetry-loving person, various myths have been attributed to him, regarding his association with the Zoon of Chandahar, who, as legend has it, was rechristened Habba Khatoon by the King after hearing her melodious voice. I have already proved that THE Habba Khatoon that I have been investigating was not Zoon but the Habba Khatoon of a Sayyid dynasty. It is said that she was a contemporary of a 17th-century Sufi poet and scholar saint, Khwaja Habibullah Nowshehri (c. 1555-c.1675) who used Hubbi as his nom de plume—Hassan Khoyhami mentions his year of birth as 962H, which comes to 1555-1556 AD. His mausoleum is at Nowshehra, Srinagar. At that time, Yousuf Shah Chak’s father, Ali Shah Chak was ruling Kashmir.
What was the Kashmiri language like in those days?
In the 16th century, Kashmiri was primarily an oral language. The Sharda and Persian scripts were both prevalent, though the former was in decline. Persian remained the official language of the kingdom, and its contact with Kashmiri enriched the latter. Persian words and literary styles were integrated into Kashmir, resulting in a rich blend of Perso-Arabic and the local vocabulary. It is said that Habba Khatoon used this language in her songs. We will be looking at her language and seeing if her diction is really that old.
Before Habba Khatoon, Lal Ded and Sheikhul Aalam had already impacted the Kashmiri language with their vaakhs and shruks, respectively. They became the harbingers of the poetic forms that have remained unchallenged to date, as before them, we have only two names in our literary history who had written poetry in Kashmiri, Shati Kanth and Sidh Mol, but their lives have, by and large, remained a mystery. Shanti Kanth’s poetry book ‘Mahanai Prakash’ is preserved. Sidh Mol (Sidh Shri Kanth) was a great Shavian scholar and teacher to Lal Ded (Avtar Krishan Rehbar, A History of Kashmiri Literature, vol. 1, chapter 4).
Lal Ded, a 15th-century Shavian poet-philosopher, used Sanskrit words and expressions profusely in her vaakhs—I have already elsewhere stated that vaakhs are deeply personal lyrics wailing some loss and emotional distress. Lal Ded, also known as Lalla, like Habba Khatoon, was maltreated by her in-laws. While suffering drew Lalla to Shivaism, Habba Khatoon gave voice to her songs, as the legend says. Lalla became a mystic. She says (P-1):
Shiay is omnipresent.
Make no divide of Hindu and Muslim.
If you are wise, behold your own essence.
That is your real acquaintance with the lord
We aren’t going to go into her philosophical undertones here. Rather, we will try to understand what the Kashmiri language looked like just a century or two before Habba Khatoon. How many of us would be able to read and understand this stanza (P-2):
During the same time, we have a Sufi-saint poet of Kashmir, Sheikh Noor-ud-din Noorani, popularly known as Nunda Reshi and Sheikhul Aalam. As a Muslim saint and the founder of the Reshi Cult, he devoted himself to the propagation of Islam and its tenets. In him, we find a saint, a social reformer, and a great humanitarian. He says (P-3):
It’s great to do good deeds
The Merciful will grant you heaven
O, Nunda, recognise your Lord
In this world and hereafter, only He is worthy of trust.
If Lalla used Sanskrit words and expressions that suited her Shavian philosophy, Sheikhul Aalam used Pero-Arabic diction, which suited his Islamic teaching. Words like “rahmta vol” (The Merciful), “maula” (Lord), “Jannat” (heaven), and “bakhshi” (grant) have their origin in Arabic. However, we have here a glimpse into Kashmiri, whose impact would be felt in many poets that came after Sheikhul Aalam, including Habba Khatoon. Below is given another shruk of Sheikhul Aalam which would take you a little bit of time to understand even if you are familiar with the Kashmiri language (P-4):
The dog barks restlessly in the courtyard.
Brothers, listen to what his cry foretells—
Whatever a man sows, that alone will he reap.
The dog says, "Go on sowing!"
Words like “aangaen” (courtyard), and “shaen’” (listen) would be unfamiliar to modern Kashmiri—we use “aangnas manz” (in the courtyard) and “booziv” (listen) today.
Ours isn’t the only language that has diachronically and synchronically changed over the years. The English language, too, has changed since Geoffrey Chaucer—Chaucer’s age is almost the same as that of Lalla. Try to read these beginning lines of his world-famous Canterbury Tales:
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licóur
Of which vertú engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye,
So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages,
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every shires ende
Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.
This Middle-English text is quite unintelligible to modern readers, even though there are many familiar words in it—its modern version is given at the end of this write-up.
By the time Willian Shakespeare came on the scene, English had changed radically, though unfamiliar words continued to rule the roost. Here is a sample from King Lear (unfamiliar words are in bold):
Fool: Thou canst tell why one’s nose stands i’the middle on’s face?
Lear: No.
Fool: Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side’s nose;
that what a man cannot smell out he may spy into.
Thou =You; Canst =cannot/can’t;
I’the =in the, and on’s face = of his face
Here is another illustration from As You Like it.
See, if you can understand what is being conveyed:
Celia: I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her.
If she be a traitor,
Why so am I: we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together,
And wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans
Still we went coupled and inseparable.
The entire dialogue means that they have been living together happily, which is indicated by “coupled”.
Edmund Spenser (1552-1599) lived almost the same time as Shakespeare, but see the difference in their English (from: The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I):
A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine,
Y cladd in mightie armes and silver shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe wounds did remaine,
The cruell markes of many a bloudy fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he never wield:
His angry steede did chide his foming bitt,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
Our own Kashmiri language has also passed through different stages of development, both diachronically and synchronically.
Today, Lalla’s language is as unreadable and unintelligible as Chaucer’s English. She was a mystic and a Shavian. Therefore, we find Sanskrit words in her poetry that suited her style. To fully appreciate her poetry, one has to be familiar with Sanskrit or seek help from somebody who is well-versed in the language. Try to figure out the words and meaning of the vaakh (V-I):
On the other hand, Sheikhul Aalam’s Kashmiri is intelligible and structured (S-I & S-II):
With Sheikhul Aalam, we are in a fully developed Kashmiri language using the Perso-Arabic script. However, thematically, the whole of Kashmiri poetry was devotional and mystic in nature. Later poets, such as Shams Faqir, Samad Mir, Wahab Khar, Ahmad Batwari, and Ahad Zargar, were all mystic poets (I am not following any chronological order).
However, Mehmood Gami (1765-1855), Arni Maal (born 1737 CE), Rasul Mir Shahabadi (1840-1870), Ghulam Ahmad Mahjoor (1887-1952), and Abdul Ahad Azad (1903-1948) freed poetry from the domination of mysticism and became the harbingers of Romanticism in Kashmiri poetry. Nature in all her manifestations—flora & fauna, love, rivers and streams, and so on—became the focal point.
Rasul Mir Shahabadi (1840-1870) is often referred to as the Imam-e-Ishqiya Shairi (the leader of love poetry), which is why he is also called the John Keats of Kashmir. Here is a sample of his love poetry:
ba ti no yi doorer chyon zarai
baal mareyo
kyah kara thovtham zara zarai
baal mareyo
shahmaar zulfav naal volham rood afsanai
vyon vanta kam afsana paray
baal mareyo
I cannot bear your absence—
it will kill me while I’m still young.
You’ve undone me entirely,
it will kill me while I’m still young.
Your serpent-like tresses
have wound themselves around my fate,
turning my life into a tale
told in whispers.
Now tell me—
how many stories must I endure?
it will kill me while I’m still young.
Here is Mahjoor singing about his love:
ha gulo tohi masa vochvon yaar myon
bulbulo tuhi chyaendton didlaar myon
vaen’ divan poshan prichom yimbarzalan
aav ma tohi kun jodugaar myon
daen’ poshav josha yith vozlaev bagh
rosha path yith posha baghuk hith karith
chaani yina pholi dilbaro gulzaar myon
O’ flowers, have you seen my beloved?
O’ nightingale, help me find my love
Tell me o’ narcissus, did my beloved pass by?
Did my charmer come by your side?
In excitement, the Pomegranate flowers have turned the garden red
Visit me by making an excuse of visiting the flowery garden
Your visiting me will make my garden bloom.
Let us go back to ‘our’ Habba Khatoon. She is believed to have lived five centuries ago during an age that was marked by mysticism in Kashmiri poetry. Among her well-known contemporaries was Habibullah Nowshehri, alias Hubbi, who was a scholar-saint born in Kashmir at the same place where his shrine is situated. Hubbi says:
kawaeni paerith nimayo graavo
haa mati yaavan rayo vey
bahaar aavtai sanz log navan
sona laanki vatha ravai ba
shoqa zool zaalai ranga naavan
haa mati yaavan rayo vey
Adorned and dressed, I will come to lay my complaint before you,
O companion of my youth.
With spring’s arrival, people begin to deck their boats in colour—
I, too, will embellish the golden prow,
And light the bright lamps of longing
On vessels painted with every shade of desire.
O companion of my youth.
Habba Khatoon, the one that we have been discussing and dissecting through her poems, appears to be an ordinary poet whose elegiac tunes give us the taste of folk songs that our womenfolk have been singing for generations together at weddings and Eids. What deep philosophy or poetic elegance is there in this complaint:
vaerivyen saet’ vaara chas no
chara kar myon malino
gari ba drayas aaba nattis
nott me phottmo malino
ya ta diytav natti notta
nata hara natti che malino
(I am not happy with in-laws/Help me, o, my parents)
What philosophical underpinnings or great ideas are contained in:
yaar myon chy jamalati
kamal tas chum naav
su chum tati ba kas matti
aki latti yiyi ham naa?
Habba’s diction is very modern, and her style is that of a folk singer. One of her most sung and liked songs is valo myani poshe madno (Come, My Flowery Cupid)—It is a long poem. I have chosen only a few stanzas:
dil nith raet’ tham goshe
valo myani poshe madno
vala vesi gatshavay hande
lanin nyay kati ande
lookav kaedso rande
valu myani poshe madno
vala veso gatshavaey babre
chok me loynam tabre
kaantsha sooznama khabre
valo myani poshe madno.
valay vesi gatshvay van taey
lookav barihas kan tay
tiy booz taem sadan tay
valo myani poshe madno
vala vesi gatshavay hee ye
yus mari su kati yiye
praraan chas chyani ziye
valo myani poshe madno
valay vesi gathvay aabas
dyuniya chu nindre ta khabas
praraan chesyo javabaes
valo myani poshe madno
Stealing my heart, you’re staying in some hidden corners
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us gather dandelions;
The knots of fate refuse to loosen.
The crowd delights in shaming me—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us gather basil leaves;
He split my heart as one might fell a tree,
Yet will not even ask if I still breathe—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us gather jasmine blooms;
Once dust, no soul can taste life’s fragrance.
For your fortune I still whisper prayers—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us gather healing herbs;
The ruthless laugh at my despair.
Would that they tasted such sorrow once—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us wander in the woods;
They poison his ears with whispered lies,
And he, so trusting, believes them all—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
Come, friend, let us go down to the river;
The world is asleep and dreaming.
Still I wait for an answer—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
In this poem, the poet is complaining about her lover’s continued absence from her. In each stanza, the first line is repeated except with a new word— valay vesi gatshvay _____ (you can fill the blank here with the bold words). The words are very simple and, like any folk vocabulary, prevalent in folk songs. Let us look at the meaning of this stanza:
Come, friend, let us go down to the river;
The world is asleep and dreaming.
Still I wait for an answer—
Return to me, my flowery cupid.
A friend is being invited to accompany her to fetch water from the river. She informs the friend that the world is sleeping and dreaming, and she is still waiting for an answer. Answer to what?
Folk songs are normally an insipid versification, very musical and sung in a chorus at our festivals. There is an Eid song (rof) which is like the above song:
yeed aayi rasa rasa
yeedgah vasa vay
yeedgah vasavay
Eid’s arrived quietly
Let’s go to Eidgah
Let’s go to Eidgah
This couplet is followed by a repetition of the routes to be taken in going to and returning from the Eidgah (the place where Eid prayers are offered).
The structure of the song is:
yemi anda___tami anda gatshavay
yemi anda___tami anda vasavay
Where the_____is, we’ll take that route to the Eidgah
Where the_____is, we’ll take that route on our return.
The blank space is filled with the Prophet’s (saw) attribution ‘Nabi Saeb’ in the beginning and then the different Muslim saints of Kashmir in other lines. You cannot attach any deep meaning to it. However, its music is alluring to the listeners and singers alike.
Most of Habba Khatoon’s songs, especially those that discuss her own life, her parents, her in-laws, and maltreatment, lack deeper meaning, and their diction is simple and folk-like. Among the 50-odd songs, 16 are without Habba’s pseudonym. I have elsewhere referred to a single-stanza song.
Here is an Eid song—lassa kami havasaey (What longing would keep me alive?)—like the one mentioned above.
What longing would keep me alive?
He’s neglected me completely.
Today the world celebrates ‘Arafa—
It is Eid for the lover.
But what is a festival without one’s lover?
He’s neglected me completely.
Quietly, he’s burned me through,
as if he cast me into a blazing oven.
My body is charred with yearning.
He’s neglected completely.
Here, you find a lovelorn girl who her lover has abandoned. Although there is festivity all around, she is the only one longing to see him, but he appears to have neglected her completely. Unlike other autobiographical songs, this lyric doesn’t contain any nom de plume.
Contrary to the above folk songs, there are a few lyrics that are thematically rich and structurally more sophisticated. One of the popular songs has a refrain, manz saraye loosum doh (Midway along the road, the daylight softly ebbed). Another lyric with the refrain vaeriv lagai paer’ paeri (I would give myself away for the other world). One gets the feeling that a more refined artist has written these few poems that contain some universal ideas about the temporality of this world and the permanence of the world hereafter.
CONCLUSION
Who Wrote These Songs?
I have demonstrated that most of these songs are biographical and inform us about (a) Habba Khatoon, who got her name from her parents— maalin myaen’ arbab aesi/tavay draam Habba Khatoon naav (My parents were landlords/That is why my name came out Habba Khatoon); and (b) Habba Khatoon, who was married off in a distant town/village.
The question that remains unresolved is who she was married to, Kamal— yaar myon jamalatti/kamaal tas chum naav, or to some village guy whose family ill-treated her— vaeri vyen saet vaara chas no/chara ka myon malino (I am not happy with in-laws/Help me, o, my parents). None of her poems tells us anything about it.
Whoever wrote these songs, it is clear that multiple hands have worked on them at various times, attributing them to Habba Khatoon.
My analysis of the poems has made it clear that Zoon was created as a myth with no historical basis. Therefore, the following stanza by Mahjoor (I had wrongly attributed it to Habba Khatoon in my earlier write-up) that Mr MY Taing had recited in support of the view that Habba Khatoon was buried in Biswak doesn’t seem to be correct (interestingly, Mahjoor was of the belief that Habba Khatoon’s resting place is Panthachowk):
Born in a farmer’s home in Chandahar.
Fate made me queen.
Even in that splendour, I feared God.
My beloved—ah, he loves me not.
The Habba Khatoon love songs collected in the anthologies are folk songs that our womenfolk have sung for generations without having any knowledge of whether or not any poet of this name ever existed. The myth of Zoon as Habba Khatoon has been passed down orally for generations. People have trusted the oral tradition and never critically evaluated her poems or chronicles, both of which tell us a different story. Oral traditions, though valuable, “are not automatically trustworthy on their own, but can be a valuable source of historical information when used critically and corroborated with other forms of evidence like archaeological findings or written records…. Oral traditions can face limitations due to memory distortion, subjective bias from the storyteller, and the difficulty in verifying accounts without written records or physical evidence. Stories can also change over time, making it hard to trace the original narrative.”.
Unless authentic scientific methods are employed in unearthing this ghostly and enigmatic poet, we will have to be content with the available poetic corpus that tell us that Habba Khatoon, the Sayyid girl, and Habba Khatoon, the village woman, were two different persons and neither was a queen. Whether a corpus of 50-odd poems would qualify any poet to be termed as great, I leave it to the reader to decide.
Modern English Version Of Chaucer’s Poem:
When April comes with its sweet showers
That pierce the dryness of March down to the roots
And soak each vein of earth with the life-giving water
From which the flowers are born;
When the West Wind, too, with its gentle breath
Has stirred the woods and fields awake,
And the young sun
Has travelled halfway through the sign of the Ram;
And small birds fill the air with song—
Birds that sleep all night with open eyes—
So strongly does Nature move them in their hearts;
Then people feel the urge to go on pilgrimages,
And travelers set out to visit distant shores,
To holy shrines known in many lands.
And especially, from every corner of England,
They journey to Canterbury
To seek the holy, blessed martyr
Who has helped them when they were ill.
WORKS CITED IN WRITE-UPS ON HABBA KHATOON:
Azad, Abdul Ahad. 1959, 1962 & 1963. Kashmiri zaban aur shayri. Vol I, II & III. J&K Academy of Art, Culture & Language.
Chandrakausika, Ram. (n.d.). ‘The Lady of Love: The Life and Work of Habba Khatoon.’ A Chronicle of Medieval Kashmir (Retrieved).
Gunjoo, Padamnath (ed). 1967. Kuliyat-e-Azad. J&K Academy of Art, Culture and Languages.
Habba Khatoon, Kuliyat-e. 2024. Srinagar: Sheikh Mohammad Usman.
Kamil, Amin (ed). 1958. Habba Khatoon: Select Poems (Urdu). J&K Academy of Art, Culture & Language.
Kamil Amin (ed.). 1995. Kuliyat-e-Habba Khatoon. J&K Academy of Art, Culture & Language.
Khoyhami, Hassan. 2013. Tareekh-e-Hassan. Srinagar: Ali Mohammad & Sons.
Mahjoor, Abdal. 2025. ‘Debunking the Myth: The Truth About Habba Khatoon’s Life and Final Resting Place. 9 October.
Mir, Rasul. 2001. Kuliyat-e-Rasul Mir. J&K Academy of Art, Culture and Languages.
Mujeeb, Mohammad. 1984. Habba Khatoon. New Delhi: Maktaba Jamia Limited.
Munawar, Naji & Shafi Shauq. 2014. Kaeshri Adbukh Tawareekh. Srinagar: Ali Mohammad & Sons.
Pandit, K. N. 1991. Baharistan-i-Shahi: A Chronicle of Medieval Kashmir. Calcutta: Firma KLM Pvt Ltd.
Ramzan, Shad. 2025. ‘Habba Khatoon: The Poet Queen of Kashmir—History Beyond Myth’, Kashmir Pen, 14 October.
Rehbar, Avtar Krishan. 1965 . Kaeshri Adbaech Taereekh, vol. 1. Self-Publication.
Shad, Ghulam Mohammad (ed). 2003. Kuliyat-e-Rashul Mir. Srinagar: Ashraf Book Centre.
Sadhoo, S. L. 1994. Habba Khatoon (Urdu). New Delhi: Sahitya Academy, Delhi.
Sufi, GMD. 2018. Kashmir: Being a History of Kashmir From the Earliest Times to Our Own. 3rd Ed. Srinagar: Ali Mohammad & Sons.
Wakhlu, S. N. 1994. Habba Khatoon: The Nightingale of Kashmir. New Delhi: South Asia Publications.
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