Photos: Mohsin Mushtaq

“If anyone were to harm a single twig, it would feel like a dagger piercing my heart.”

“An Poshi Tilli Yilli Wan Poshi” (Food will thrive only as long as the woods survive), this Kashmiri aphorism by renowned Sufi Saint Sheikh-Ul-Alam (RA), underscores the significance of forests for human survival and has inspired generations.

Living amidst the serene landscape of the tiny hamlet of Nagri in Kupwara in North Kashmir, Abdul Ahad Khan, in his mid-forties, the revered saint’s wise words are not just a lesson. They resonate deeply with the spirit and mission of this tree lover.

Khan has dedicated his life, time, and resources to the cause of planting, nurturing, and safeguarding trees. With a passion as vast as the forests he tends, he has embarked on a remarkable mission to restore the greenery that once thrived in the region.

Abdul Ahad’s journey is both heartbreaking and inspiring, as he juggles his responsibilities as a caretaker for his family, a labourer, and a guardian of Mother Nature.

“Nature is my solace, and I find peace amidst these trees,” he says, his eyes glistening with passion. “My children, life, and my future are all these Chinars that I plant.”

His lonely journey began in 2010 when he was 32 years old. He went on a short trek along with his friends to the “Band Wader” forest near his village, and was saddened to see the massive scale of deforestation in the area. The trip gave a new meaning to his life as he came back vowing to do something to undo the devastation of the green gold.

“Every day, before the first glaze of dawn kisses the blossoms of the valley, Ahad ventures into the forests to nurture the saplings he has planted over the years. With each delicate seedling he tends, he feels a deep connection to his homeland and the living heritage of Kashmir.”

Every day, before the first glaze of dawn kisses the blossoms of the valley, Ahad ventures into the forests to nurture the saplings he has planted over the years. With each delicate seedling he tends, he feels a deep connection to his homeland and the living heritage of Kashmir.

“Chinar trees are special to me; they are a part of Kashmir’s soul,” Abdul Ahad shares, his voice brimming with emotion. “I shifted from planting walnuts to Chinars as they are less likely to cause conflicts with wild animals in the region.”

Chinar Tree or Platinus Orientalis has a rich significance in the heritage and culture of Kashmir. The word Chinar is of Persian origin. The word “Chi-nar ast” in Persian means “what a fire”. The tree is believed to have been brought from Iran to Kashmir by the Mughal emperor Jehangir.

Besides its traditional significance, locally called the ‘Bouin‘, the Chinar tree has a rich natural essence, it produces 120 litres of lifesaving oxygen per year. On the hot summer days, when people yearn for some cool shade, Chinar which grows 30 metres tall or more with a girth exceeding 150 metres, gives respite to them sitting under it. It is also known for its longevity. Most Chinar trees live up to 700 years.

As the day unfolds, Abdul Ahad dons his labourer’s hat, toils tirelessly to earn a living for his family. But even amidst his daily struggles, he never forgets his true purpose. When the sun sets, he returns to the forests, drawn by an inexplicable force, to witness the fruits of his labour and commune with the natural world.

“The sight of these trees fills my heart with joy and contentment. All the tiredness that I experience while working goes away when I see my planted trees blooming,” Abdul Ahad says. Even when he speaks about the trees, a warm smile illuminates his weathered face.

“My passion to plant trees is a testament to the love I have for my homeland and the responsibility I feel towards it,” he says.

Abdul Ahad’s dedication goes beyond mere words; it is deeply ingrained in his actions. He adamantly refuses to marry, believing that such a commitment would take him away from his profound connection to nature.

“I fear that marriage would divert my attention from my true love – the forests,” he confides. “My devotion lies here, and I cannot bear the thought of abandoning my trees.”

Despite facing taunts and dismissive attitudes from others, Abdul Ahad’s determination remains steadfast. Misguided judgements of some people around him have linked him to his mentally ill brother, leading to hurtful rumours and almost ostracization.

His small, humble abode receives no visitors during festivals, leaving his efforts seemingly unnoticed by the world.

But his mother, Jannat Begum, has implicit faith in what Abdul Ahad does. She beams with pride and tears, expressing admiration for her son’s devotion. “He takes care of both his mothers – Mother Earth and me,” she says.

“On a winter night, I found myself torn between my love for my family and the trees I nurtured. In those moments, I questioned whether I could continue, but my unwavering passion for nature prevailed.”

Abdul Ahad’s father died when he was very young and the weight of responsibility fell on his shoulders. Of his two brothers, one is married and the other is suffering from a psychological illness. So, while remaining dedicated to his passion, he also had to earn a living and be the caretaker for his mother and ailing brother.

Life’s trials tested Abdul Ahad’s resolve when his mother’s health deteriorated. Balancing his familial responsibilities with his green mission posed immense challenges, narrates Abdul Ahad as he prepares lunch on an earthen chulha for his mother and ailing brother.

“On a winter night, I found myself torn between my love for my family and the trees I nurtured. In those moments, I questioned whether I could continue, but my unwavering passion for nature prevailed,” he recalls.

Funding his mission single-handedly, Abdul Ahad bears the financial burden of planting, nurturing, and safeguarding the saplings. “I don’t ask for money from anyone; it’s my labour of love,” he states firmly.

Initially, Ahad would travel to Srinagar to buy saplings from nurseries with his hard-earned money. Over the years, he learnt how to create saplings out of cuttings from existing trees. He now collects these cuttings from a tree near Astaan De’d Mooj (spiritual abode).

Till date, Ahad has planted more than 2,000 Chinar trees across the mountains of Kupwara and his native Nagri village.

Protecting his beloved trees from harm is a matter of life and death for Abdul Ahad. “I use thorns to shield them from both humans and animals,” he explains.

“If anyone were to harm a single twig, it would feel like a dagger piercing my heart,” he adds.

While he is satisfied with what he does, Abdul Ahad dreams of a larger impact. “If the government, NGOs, and environmentalists join hands with me, I promise to plant trees in every corner of Kupwara,” he exclaims with unwavering determination.

In a world where nature often succumbs to the pursuit of capital and resources, Abdul Ahad Khan stands tall as a beacon of selflessness and environmental stewardship. His journey touches the soul, evoking a symphony of emotions that resonates long after his tale is told.

A conversation with him evokes hopes for a greener, more sustainable future. For Abdul Ahad that is a dream.

For now, his pursuit is something that gives him inner peace and joy, also an opportunity to witness ‘magical moments’ as he describes.

He recounts a heartwarming incident. “One day, amidst the snow, I witnessed a bear and her cubs roaming freely among the trees that I had planted,” he recalls with nostalgia.

“It was a moment of pure peace and harmony, a reflection of what nature becomes when we love it selflessly.”

First Published by Kashmir Times around 08 May 2024.