The practice of rearing livestock in “Kokarmor” has been a longstanding tradition in Kashmir, deeply embedded in our cultural heritage. Positioned under the Veranda of the house, locally referred to as Brandh, Kokarmor served multiple purposes, from sheltering animals during harsh weather to protecting them from predators called Laeesh in local parlance, a member of the felidae family.
Beyond its practicality, Kokarmor symbolized more than just animal husbandry; it embodied the artistic wonders of village life. Each morning, as the doors of Kokarmor opened, releasing the livestock into the courtyard, it was a moment of pride for the elders, reflecting the care and love invested in raising these animals, often referred to as “maal”, the asset.
Among the livestock, Baang-e-Kokur, the crowing rooster, held a special place. Raised with meticulous care, Baang-e-Kokur not only served to wake people fup or Fajr prayers but also represented a sense of pride and competition in cockfights, known as Koker Jung vis-à-vis a witness to the glory of our bright past and magnificent civilization.
Additionally, Baang-e-Kokur was offered to shrines as a gesture of submission, faith, and respect, known as Astan Kokur which was considered highly auspicious. Whether released within the shrine premises or cooked as Koker Tahaer (a tahari made with yellow fried rice mixed with chicken), Baang-e-Kokur played a significant role in religious rituals and communal gatherings.
Even Kashmiri poet and humorist Ayoub Sabir found inspiration in Baang-e-Kokur, composing a humorous poem dedicated to the rooster’s distinctive characteristics especially in the cherished set-up of rural wonders where the very same items were once considered must-haves in every household.
Furthermore, the tradition extended to the offspring of Kokur, with one chick often destined for offering at revered shrines and later grown into a rooster for charitable purposes known as Sadqah, reflecting the deep spiritual connection intertwined with everyday village life.
On the canvas of my own memories, I recall accompanying my beloved grandmother, Zoon Ded, to the holy shrine of Baba Shukr-u-din Wali (RA) where she offered Baang-e-Kokur as a token of gratitude and reverence to the Sufi saint, illustrating the enduring significance of this tradition in our culture.
How sad! Neither the Kokarmor neither exists nor is Baang-e-Kokur reared at our edifices now. The sight of such things is gone, and in a bid to halt it from sliding into obscurity, come; let’s strive collaboratively to rejuvenate the traditional hues of both, abandoned to so-called modernization. The onus to preserve lies on all of us.