#Sikh Raj

[histroy-of-punjab]

Fall of Sikh Empire

Welcome to our new video series examining the fascinating history of the fall of the Sikh Empire, also known as the Khalsa Raj, under the leadership of Maharaja Ranjit Singh (Sher - E - Panjab). In this series, we'll take a closer look at the factors that contributed to the decline and eventual dissolution of this once-great kingdom. Through a mix of stunning visuals and insightful vocals by Bhai Lakhwinder Singh Sohal Dhadi Jatha, we'll explore the key events and personalities that shaped this critical period in South Asian history. From the internal conflicts and political turmoil that weakened the Sikh empire from within, to the external pressures and military campaigns that eventually overpowered it from without, we'll delve into the many challenges that the Sikh people faced in the waning years of their empire. Join us as we uncover the legacy of Maharaja Ranjit Singh and the Khalsa Raj, and examine the lessons that can be learned from this pivotal chapter in South Asian history. Be sure to subscribe to our channel to stay up to date on the latest episodes, and don't forget to hit the like button and share with your friends. Let's explore the fall of the Sikh Empire together.

#Sikh #Khalsa #Khalsa Raj #Sikh Raj #Sikh Empire #Khalsa Empire #Khalistan #Punjab #Panjab #Lahore #Pakistan #Sher e punjab #Sher e Panjab #sikh raj kive gya #sikh raj kive gaya #Maharaja Ranjit Singh #The Black Prince #Kohinoor #Jind Kaur #Maharani Jind Kaur #Maharani Jind'an #Fall of the Sikh empire #Amritpal singh #amritpal #dibrugarh #singh #NSA #1947 #1984 #british rule

[mahithecreator]

december 2022

the throne of ਜੱਸਾ ਸਿੰਘ ਰਾਮਗੜ੍ਹੀਆ (jassa singh ramgharia 1723-1803), just below ground level at the ramgharia bunga, located near the south gate. sardar jassa singh was the commandar of the ramgharia misl during the sikh confederacy.

the throne of delhi during aurangzebs rule, the six mughal emperor, was dragged down into the ramgharia bunga.

#harmandir sahib #jassa singh ramgharia #fujifilm #film is not dead #film photography #punjab #sikh raj #india #35mm #fujifilm400 #amritsar #panjab

[zvaigzdelasas]

Lol never realized china borders with india three fuckjng times until now

Not an accident! British Raj was very valuable to the British not only for the labour & resources of the Raj itself, but also its proximity to China. Most Sino-Indian border conflicts today are based off this.

#the jammu/kashmir conflict is also heavily influenced by powerplays of the british raj #even beyond the 'splitting the region in the first place' thing #jammu kashmir & aksai chin are basically the same territorial conflict in a lot of ways #both go back to gulab singh & his principality devolving into a sikh puppet state to the raj after defeat

[ancientorigins]

Sanatan Shastar Vidya is an ancient Indian martial art that dates back thousands of years, but was eventually banned by the British Raj who feared the skilled warriors.

#India #Spiritualism #martial arts #Gatka #Raj #British #Sikh #ancient #history #ancient origins

[meherya]

Only 35% through this book but it's genuinely making me feel insane

#like its actually blowing my mind and giving me an insight into history i knew only in passing #like!!!!! #it goes literally from british raj to republic #dicsusses major points of punjabs historh #liek theres so much info.... #idk what the latter 65% will be like but man #anywayd this is random but when the chapters get to the part of missing and disappeared sikhs... #i wonder if my uncles name will appear .. from those who survived and witnessed the torture punjab police put people through #because its presumed he's dead but no one in my dads family actually knows what happened to him

[irrelephantsims]

Raj Rasoya

#raj rasoya #the sims 4 city living #ts4 #irrelephantsims #townie makeover #sikh sims #ts4 townies #my sims

[kaiwry]

This whole @virginnotsaint-deactivated20220 and @faaeish-deactivated20220718 situation is so confusing to me because these were two ppl I followed and interacted with and they seemed genuine to me (but idk I can be naive at times). So I just didn't expect them to just act like they are open to conversate and then just deactivate after they get backlash.

Sorry if this is vague but I can't bother with linking everything for anyone that doesn't know what's going on 😅

#i tend to try and give ppl the benefit of the doubt so i just always end up like this #like idk im still making up excuses in my head but yeah #raj definitely deserves better Ive never seen a townie get changed so much and its because he's sikh #i think im just horrible at judging ppl's character #kai.txt #nonsims

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"ANOTHER SCORE OF HINDUS IN," The Province (Vancouver). November 27, 1913. Page 1. ---- Party Reached Victoria Today and Are Held for Examination ---- Chicago Maru Had Tempestuous Trip Across the Pacific. ---- Victoria, Nov. 27. - After having just completed the examination of a contingent of fifty-six Hindus and unravelling a great immigration problem, the officials at the Victoria detention buildings are now face to face with another similar task.

When the liner Chicago Maru berthed from the Orient this morning it was learned that there were twenty natives of the Indian empire booked to this port and after a brief examination they were permitted to disembark and escorted to the detention buildings, where exhaustive examinations will be made as to their health and certificates.

Some of the Chicago Maru's contingent are returning Hindus who have been back home on a visit but quite a number are newcomers. The twenty Hindus joined the vessel at Hongkong. Of course they did not come direct from their native land and therefore the old immigration trouble will once again be argued, but following the judgment of a few days ago, it is possible that all the newcomers will be permitted to gain admission to Canada.

Another tempestuous passage across the Pacific was reported by the Chicago Maru, which was conquered in the race from Yokohama to this coast by the liner Awa Maru. She brought a light cargo and discharged 300 tons of general merchandise at this port. Her silk shipment was valued at $500,000. She proceeded to the Sound at 1 p. m. today.

#victoria #canadian history #racism in canada #canada in the british empire #sikh immigration to canada #indian immigration to canada #settler colonialism in canada #british india #british raj #british empire #immigration restrictions #immigration to canada #white supremacy #ocean liner #immigration detention

[onlinesikhstore]

Lion Singh Car Mirror HANGER Rabb Sukh Rakhe Bebe Bapu Punjabi Wood Pendant GG10

Lion Singh Car Mirror HANGER Rabb Sukh Rakhe Bebe Bapu Punjabi Wood Pendant Gift - Brilliant Finish

Double sided pendant

Photos on both sides of car Hanger as mentioned in Variations

Design - GG10

Car Hanger Size Size approx. 9.5cm x 7.0cm

Thickness is approx 5mm

Colour of Tassel/hanging thread or Chain may vary (Gold, Silver, Black or Brown) subject to availability.

*****RRP of these Car Hangers is £29.99 each. 

We are UK based supplier. Items can be collected from our shop in Rochester, Kent, UK.

Please buy with confidence and check our other fantastic listings. 

Postage discount for multi-buys.

https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/Lion-Singh-Car-Mirror-HANGER-Rabb-Sukh-Rakhe-Bebe-Bapu-Punjabi-Wood-Pendant-GG10-/275913282212

#Lion Singh Sikh #Ek ONkar Mool Mantar #Bebe Meri Jaan #Bapu Naal Jahan #Punjab Raj Karega #Khalsa Gurmukhi #Rabb Sukh Rakhe #Sarbat Da bhala #Sukh Vele Shukrana #Guru Nanak Gobind #Car Hangers #Car Rear Mirror #Hanging Khanda #Waheguru Satnam #Vaheguru Vaheguroo

[kumrattourism]

Historical Heritage of Pakistan: Exploring the Rich Cultural Legacy of the Land of Pure

Pakistan is a country with a rich and diverse cultural history that has been shaped by centuries of influence from various civilizations and empires. From the ancient Indus Valley Civilization to the Mughal Empire and beyond, the land of Pakistan has a plethora of historical sites and artifacts that showcase the rich cultural heritage of the country. In this article, we will explore the…

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#and architecture #archaeological site #art #Beginning of Modern Pakistan #Chanhudara Archaeological Site. #famous Sikh landmarks in Pakistan #Historical Heritage of Pakistan #historical sites and artifacts #Indus Valley Civilization #Mughal Empire #Sikh landmarks in Pakistan #tapestry of culture #The British Raj #The Cradle of Civilization #The Sikh Empire #The Sikh rulers

[metamatar]

[...] I do not know of any fictional narrative in Urdu, in roughly the last two hundred years, which is of any significance and any length (I am making an exception for a few short stories here) in which the issue of colonialism or the difficulty of a civilizational encounter between the English and the Indian has the same primacy as, for example, in Forster’s A Passage to India or Paul Scott’s The Raj Quartet. The typical Urdu writer has had a peculiar vision, in which he or she has never been able to construct fixed boundaries between the criminalities of the colonialist and the brutalities of all those indigenous people who have had power in our own society. We have had our own hysterias here and there – far too many, in fact – but there has never been a sustained, powerful myth of a primal innocence, when it comes to the colonial encounter. The ‘nation’ indeed became the primary ideological problematic in Urdu literature only at the moment of Independence, for our Independence too was peculiar: it came together with the Partition of our country, the biggest and possibly the most miserable migration in human history, the worst bloodbath in the memory of the subcontinent: the gigantic fratricide conducted by Hindu, Muslim and Sikh communalists. Our ‘nationalism’ at this juncture was a nationalism of mourning, a form of valediction, for what we witnessed was not just the British policy of divide and rule, which surely was there, but our own willingness to break up our civilizational unity, to kill our neighbours, to forgo that civic ethos, that moral bond with each other, without which human community is impossible. A critique of others (anti-colonial nationalism) receded even further into the background, entirely overtaken now by an even harsher critique of ourselves. The major fictions of the 1950s and 1960s–the shorter fictions of Manto, Bedi, Intezar Hussein; the novels of Qurrat ul Ain, Khadija Mastoor, Abdullah Hussein – came out of that refusal to forgive what we ourselves had done and were still doing, in one way or another, to our own polity. No quarter was given to the colonialist; but there was none for ourselves either. One could speak, in a general sort of way, of ‘the nation’ in this context, but not of ‘nationalism’.

Aijaz Ahmed, In Theory: Nations, Classes and Literatures. Emphasis mine

#sorry but this vision of urdu literature deeply moved me #i think its sentimental and a little too forgiving of the hysterias but #aijaz ahmad

[histroy-of-punjab]

Hari Singh Nalwa Birthday 1st May

 Hari Singh Nalwa was a prominent Sikh general and commander during the reign of Maharaja Ranjit Singh of the Sikh Empire. He was born on 1st May 1791 in Gujranwala, Punjab (now in Pakistan) and was the son of Gurdas Singh Uppal.

Hari Singh Nalwa served as the governor of Peshawar and was known for his bravery and leadership qualities. He was instrumental in expanding the Sikh Empire's territory and played a key role in many battles, including the Battle of Multan, Battle of Jamrud, and the Battle of Nowshera.

He also built many forts, including the famous Jamrud Fort, to protect the empire's territories in northern areas. He was considered a fierce warrior and was known to fight in the frontline alongside his soldiers.

Hari Singh Nalwa died in the Battle of Jamrud in 1837, fighting against the Pashtun tribes. His death was a huge loss for the Sikh Empire, and he is still remembered as a legendary figure in the Sikh community. His legacy lives on through the many forts and structures he built and the sacrifices he made for his people.

#Sikh #Khalsa #Khalsa Raj #Sikh Raj #Sikh Empire #Khalsa Empire #Khalistan #Punjab #Panjab #Lahore #Pakistan #Sher e Panjab #sikh raj kive gaya #Maharaja Ranjit Singh #The Black Prince #Kohinoor #Maharani Jind Kaur #Maharani Jind'an #Fall of the Sikh empire #Amritpal singh #dibrugarh #singh #1947 #1984 #british rule #Hari singh nalwa #maharani chand kaur #Maharaja Duleep Singh #ਸਿੱਖ ਰਾਜ ਕਿਵੇਂ ਗਿਆ? #dhadi

[whiimms]

justice for raj rasoya - a quick rant about townie makeovers

so i was casually scrolling on my dash and i saw someone playing with the city living townies. i was appalled when i realized that one of these sims was intended to be raj rasoya, a sikh chef living in the spice market of san myshuno. the sim in the post looked drastically different to raj, he was barely recognizable until i checked the tags. i then began looking at his tag on tumblr, and it’s lowkey making me sick to my stomach.

i don’t know why i’m uncomfortable with this, or it it’s just me but it’s so unsettling to see people either white wash, slim down, or remove raj’s turban when they make him over. i don’t understand the need that people have to change raj into something completely unrecognizable because he doesn’t fit western beauty standards. why must we make him have a chiseled bod and lightly tanned skin? why do we feel the need to make his nose smaller and remove his nose bridge? why do we feel the need to remove his turban?

the turban and even the kara (bracelet raj and geeta wear) are both symbols of their faith. it begs me to ask the question, would the perpetrators that have white washed raj do the same to an EA townie that’s hijabi? probably not - at least, i would hope not. 

this is weird and lowkey not okay. it’s quite clear that EA intended for the rasoyas to be sikh. why are we trying to erase their ethnic features and backgrounds?

now before you guys come at me, i’m going to say that - it’s your game i’m not policing you - however, i am pointing out how weird and disrespectful it comes across to actively erase the features and religious qualities of townies that were specifically given these identities. 

thank you for coming to my ted talk. please let me know if this is just a me issue, i’m genuinely curious to see how other people feel about this. my inbox is open, and i’d be happy to chat. it says my comments are enabled, but people have had trouble with commenting on my posts before, so just shoot me an ask instead!

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 discussion #sims discussion #raj rasoya #i'm hoping i'm not coming off as a karen or anything it's just something i've noticed and wanted to share #i'm willing to take criticism and i'm open to other points of view tbh this is just my initial thoughts on the matter #nat.txt

[rainymoodlet]

like y’all… it’s embarrassing bc sims but because i knew raj wore a dāstār i was able to compliment a sikh man in my store on the color of his and he and his wife absolutely lit up when i knew the distinction. it is important and it has real world meaning.

#txt

[newsfrom-theworld]

The Jammu Genocide

The Jammu Genocide refers to the period in Autumn 1947 where an estimate of over 200-250 thousand Muslims in the Jammu region by paramilitaries such as RSS Hari Singh ( the man in the picture) .

Around April 1947, RSS + other extremist paramilitaries began plans for Muslim genocide.

Following this, the Maharaja visited Jammu province but there would be no Muslim officers in the touring. Days later, he visits Rawalakot, but he would visit Hindus in the area not Muslims.

Upon return, he created new units, made of of Dogra's and Gurkha's and banned meetings of 5+ people.

He would also demand Muslims surrender their weapons...WHILE those weapons were redistributed to non-Muslims. Hari Singh viewed it as necessary for the Dogra's planned genocide.

Worth noting 60,000 from his state fought in WW2 (from the Sudhan tribe, for the British army.) and got kindly 'repaid' by disarmament and rejection from the Maharaja's army.

In August the British Raj would be partitioned on the basis of religious demographic, by this time Dogra's and Mahajan's would be desperate to exterminate Muslims and make the territory Hindu.

Many Hindu and Sikh refugees would temporarily reside in Jammu and would give highly exaggerated accounts of suffering, serving as propaganda to get a good amount of the population on board, including the refugees who had arrived recently at Jammu. These two events together would lead to a plan to exterminate Jammu's Muslim population.

October 1947, the genocide planned out for months would begin in Bhimber tehsil, with attacks beginning with the slogan "Jai Maharaj." A common tactic was the arson of houses, this happened in 4 villages. In Kotli tehsil similar events would unfold in villages. Many would die

1 day later, a massacre would take place at Akhnoor bridge. 15k Muslims from Akhnoor and nearby would be forced to leave for Pakistan through the bridge, but Dogra soldiers opened fire killing masses of them.

Many claiming the killing was so bad blood was flowing on the bridge.

On the same day, a massacre would take place in Kathua district, with a considerable death toll of over 8000. It is claimed that women and children were not spared from these massacres and were killed to.

Only 100 of these 8000 would actually survive the massacre.

Another massacre would take place in Sambha, with Hindu & Sikh soldiers sieging it, containing 14k Muslims. Soldiers would cut rations and water.

The Maharaja would visit & after women were taken by state soldiers & men were slaughtered.

15 would survive, fleeing to Sialkot.

It's not over. Another massacre happened at Miran Sahib, where about 25k Muslims were SUPPOSED to be evacuated to Pakistan. As it was happening Dogra troops took away belongings and the women. Men were made to line up and be shot by machine guns.

100 survived, hiding in fields.

During November, the Maharaja demanded all Muslims leave the state, lying that Pakistan had asked for them.

They assembled at the parade ground thinking they would be sent to Suchetgarh but the convoy went to Kathua road and they were also massacred. 8000 were killed over 4 days.

As mentioned earlier, aside from the massacres, the abduction of women also took place.

These especially happened in Jammu, Kathua, Reasi and Udhampur. The number of abductions is estimated at 25k

This would all lead to mass migration of Jammu Muslims to Sialkot, Pakistan due to its closeness and a pre-established road and railway connection.

Some also went due to previous financial and familial ties to the city.

It is worth noting throughout this that the goal of the genocide was for Dogra's + RSS to take advantage of the partition's religious majority criteria (making it Hindu majority) to get accession to go one way.

This demographic idea is still used now through settler colonialism.

This website covers the genocide in more depth.

A memorial page is also under construction.

#free palestine #history #genocide #RSS #jammu genocide #silent genocide

[madmarchhare]

I have failed to give you updates on my other stories as I took a break from them, as my brain skipped tracks onto another story I had to get down. So here is an expert in an early-ish part of that one.

It is set in 1908 norther Japan. This is a small excerpt a while after the characters have already been introduced. I hope you all enjoy it. It is called :

The Monk and the Traveller

“I shall come with you to the next town then, I have some letters to send among other things,” he declared, moving to collect all of his belongings back into his rucksack. Cherry spun round to look at Collier, a flustered expression on his face.

“W-why?!” Cherry managed to force out, at a near total loss for words. Collier swung the now packed rucksack back over his shoulder, next to his Lee Speed and Type 35, taking a moment to adjust them then strode forward, ahead of the monk.

“Not everything needs a reason my good sir! Often just being mildly interesting is enough!” he called back in a boisterous yet sagely tone, Cherry staring after the whirlwind that had just blew past him. He took a second to grumble then stormed forward to the man. Even if his company could be… interesting, he was more likely to get a bed and a meal. Collier marched forward at a confident pace, not a single item on his person rattling, near silent as he strode forward a talent he had learned on his travels. It unnerved the monk. Cherry regarded the man oddly, like one would a spirit that had sat beside you for a meal.

“By they way, Cherry,” Collier began in a curious tone, thinning rain pattering off his bucket hat, “why do you dress like a Shinto priest despite being Buddhist?” Cherry looked up at him with a plain expression, less surprised the foreigner knew the difference than he might’ve been before.

“My-the leader of my temple decided to change our vestments and some our rituals to more closely match Shinto traditions around the time the government began to favour it over Buddhism. He thought it would make our temple more appealing to officials and the locals… He was right for the most part, annoyingly,” Cherry explained drolly, a note of annoyance in his voice as he begrudgingly acknowledged the plans’ success. Or more accurately that that man’s plan succeeded. Collier looked at him with an interested but respectful expression, deciding not to pry in his acquaintances life so soon.

“What about you?” Cherry queried in a sober tone, Collier looking back at him with an enquiring expression, “How do you know so much about Buddhism and Shintoism? You are a foreigner after all,” he finished bluntly, glancing back at the man as the rain finally died away, abandoning the light breeze that had accompanied it.

Collier wore an easy expression, one that seemed to say ‘oh is that all’, “I often spend time in the Raj for hunting and other things. I spent a while at some of the old Buddhist temples and monasteries to learn their teachings. Though I went to other ones as well, I spent some time with Islamists for about a year and two with the Sikhs up in the North-west frontier. I cannot encourage you enough to travel there. Beauty beyond dreams…” Collier trailed off wistfully, staring out ahead of him as he walked, holding his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at the traveller with a stunned expression. “As for Shintoism,” he brusquely resumed, “I came here to Japan a while ago, just after your war with Russia. I mostly stayed in Hokkaido and southern Karafuto[1] hunting with the Ainu, but I also learnt a bit about the Shinto faith from a temple further north. Though I should add that I learn most of Japanese before the trip, just enough to get by,” he added flippantly taking a long stride to get past a small stream that had cut across the path, its source likely having flooded due to the rain. Cherry looked at Collier with a bewildered expression as the hunter outpaced him, leaving the monk to watch the back of his head, or more aptly his hat.

He was strange. That was what Cherry decided, influenced by his sour disposition against the man. He followed on nonetheless, he saw no reason to put much effort in avoiding the man. The journey was not long now, and having traveling companion with loose purse strings could be helpful. Especially considering how the monk was nearly always skint. The sky was grey for a while, exhausted rainclouds lingering in the sky like a now silent orchestra. When the sky broke out into sun, around quarter to eleven, the forest glowed with beauty. Though, it had been so before as well.

Collier’s eyes would dance between flowers and trees glittering from the dew like a child in a sweetshop, grinning as he saw animals busy past. He stopped every so often to pull out a book to jot something down or sketch as he observed some odd bit of flora or fauna. Cherry would begrudgingly wait nearby, taking a moment to pray, occasionally hearing the other man mumble to himself in English as he worked, along with one or two other languages he couldn’t identify. Other times he would walk while he jotted down shorthand notes, not that Cherry could read them.

He spoke in long, drawn out tangents about various animals or other things, denoting how he had seen them when he was out hunting or had gone out specifically for them. He rambled about this that and otherwise while the monk occasionally chimed in, mostly tuning the man out when he spoke. And yet, so much of the journey was silent, the golden atmosphere shining under the summer sun. It was in this silence that Cherry noticed another thing about Collier, how he seemed a presence near you. Distinct and clear. Yet, he walked silently, indeed none of his equipment rattled or made a distinct noise, bar from the swish of fabric or his deliberate steps, somehow light despite his heavy boots and height. He had the presence of a hunter, even as he stood by you smiling like you were a decades old companion, he felt like a hare watched by a kitsune.[2]

They walked for a long while until they came close to the town, encountering a pair of young men with nets draped over their shoulders, one walking barefoot while the other wore sandals. Both wore plain yukata’s the one who wore sandals having his much more finely adjusted.

“Good morning my dear sirs,” Cherry declared, bowing to them as he offered a prayer to them, Collier smiling at them as he tipped his hat to the two men, who bowed in response, the barefooted man ducking out of it before the other and staring at Collier curiously. “I am currently traveling in hope to bring aid and enlightenment to myself and any I may meet. I am looking for Aisuge, am I correct in assuming it is this way?” gesturing with his staff as he smiled at the men, a wide Cheshire cat grin once again fixed on his face.

The man in sandals nodded, pointing down the path before he spoke, “yes, if you just follow this path, you will find it shortly,” he instructed, his words stilted as if he had trouble talking, though his face seemed quite intelligent.

“Thank you for your kindness, may the Buddha bless your endeavours,” Cherry bade them, a grace like that of a priest surrounding him as he did, bowing as he offered them a prayer. He spun and continued down the path determinedly while Collier stopped to talk to the, as he discovered, fisherman. Cherry walked on while Collier chatted to the two men about fishing spots, and what they recommended as certain baits for the area or where waterfowl tended to be. The town was much larger than the last one, the streets being paved and a few western style buildings rising out of construction sites, though not many. He smiled and waived at a few people as he passed, offering brusque but sincere prayers to them as he dashed to the post office, near single minded in his search.

He found it after a while, a rather small building made of wood constructed in a western style, comparatively new compared to the buildings that pressed against it on either side. A post man was walking out of the entrance as Cherry approached, tipping his hat to greet the Monk, rushing off to his deliveries. He pushed open the door and walked in, the clerk looking up from the newspaper he was reading with a surprised expression. He was a young man dressed in a postman’s uniform, a dark blue hakama with white kanji characters on it denoting his job, a white scarf pattered with flowers at the tips wrapped around his neck seemingly his own personal touch. His hair was done in a bowl-cut but with a trimmed back fringe, pitch black like ink. “Good afternoon,” he muttered weakly, offering a nervous smile to Cherry.

“Good afternoon,” Cherry replied kindly, smiling at the man with a look of zen on his face, “do you have any mail for a Nekomata Sakuranbou?”[3] He leaned over the man as he asked, a pensive smile pulled over his features.

The clerk seemed to settle down, and nodded jerkily, “yes, I do believe we have some mail for that name. I was wondering why the address was so strange,” he replied, rifling through a assortment of letters then picking one out, “but I suppose a wandering monk wouldn’t have one would he…?” he trailed off weakly, smiling at his own joke. His voice was frail, thin, seemingly straining just to be audible though he smiled at Cherry. His face then shifted into a harder expressions he pulled the letter away, almost shielding it with his person, “you are Nekomata-san? Aren’t you?” he questioned sternly squinting at the monk.

Cherry smiled at him still, rolling his eyes underneath his eyelids, “yes, I am, why else would I ask for that name?” Cherry responded, forcing his words to sound sweet, cocking his head at the man while he gripped his hands together, balancing his staff in the crook of his arm.          

“You could want to know his information so that you could rob him,” the clerk offered innocently, Cherry cursing that the man didn’t get that the question was rhetorical, “or you could be trying to steal his identity, or wanting to curse him for despoiling the shrine you work at… Or you could be a yokai!” the young man cried excitedly, smiling giddily.

“I am not a yokai! I am a monk!” Cherry snapped indignantly, waiving his staff at the young man, who flinched back in response.

“A tanuki then? Though you being a Nekomata would be more obvious…” he again muttered weakly, still recoiled like a frightened cat, his arms splayed ahead of him.

“No!” Cherry again snapped, then calming down and sighing, “I’m just here for my mail please, I’m not a yokai, I am the Nekomata the letter is mean for,” he droned exhaustedly, wanting to move past the charade quickly.

The young man blinked then relaxed, “oh, yeah sure,” holding the letter out for the monk who quickly snatched it from his hands and tore it open, pouring over it quickly, panic in his eyes. Then he saw a specific line on the letter and visible slackened, his face relaxing significantly as he read on at a more leisurely pace. When he finished the letter he lowered it, a relived expression on his face as he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.

“They’re alright,” he muttered serenely, smiling to himself as he turned back around to the clerk, now back by his desk. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper? I need to send a reply,” Cherry asked levelly, smiling slightly at the man.

The clerk flustered for a moment, “oh, yes, sure,” he babbled quickly, sifting through shelves to grab a piece of writing paper and an envelope before shoving the former towards the holy man.

“Thank you,” Cherry replied dignifiedly, drawing the piece of paper closer while he pulled out a yatate[4] from his belt, a beautiful piece made of shakudō[5], the metal having darkened into a deep black-indigo colour. He opened it and withdrew the brush from it, the smoking-pipe shaped piece holding it in its neck, and snapped open the lid of the ink box with his little finger before he pressed the brush’s bristles into the oil-damp cotton that was sat inside it. He pulled the genkō yōshi[6] paper under his pen and began writing.Cherry’s witing was somewhat scruffy, often taking liberties in how he would form kanji or katanaka where he assumed the letters recipient would know what he meant. His prose, however, was not lacking. The words he wrote were quite eloquent, though he flip-flopped between formality and closeness depending on who he mentioned in the letter. He finished after a moment, washing and drying the brush before slotting it back into its compartment and snapping shut the ink box before hiding it back around his belt.

“Please may you deliver this,” pressing the paper towards the clerk who was ready with an envelope, “to Nekomata ­­__ , they live at the Buddhist ­temple near Yamagata. If you can’t find it, give the letter to Akisei Makoto, he’ll get it to her,” he instructed dully, seemingly used to giving these orders.

The clerk flashed a cheeky smile at his customer, “a letter to a fiancé or wife?” he asked slyly, but received a look of horror and disgust from the monk in response.

“It’s for my Onee-san[7],” he responded insulted, seeming to cringe away from the clerk.

“Ah, sorry,” the clerk blurted out flustered, looking somewhat hurt at his won joke reception regardless. He sealed the letter in an envelope and pulled stamp from a drawer in his desk, “Alright, that’ll be six yen,” the clerk declared, moving the stamp and letter towards Cherry, though keeping his hands on both. The skint monk looked at him silently for a moment, before shifting his staff to his other hand.

“My dear sir,” he began darkly bowing his back to he was closer to eye-level with the man, “I have neglected to inform you until now, but I believe you may be possessed by a spirit,” he fabricated, though the other man seemed to twitch at that, his scarf fluttering from the movement longer than it should’ve, though Cherry decided to put it aside for the moment. “But, I am more than willing and qualified to aid you. I simply need six yen to begin the exorcism,” he finished grandly, again his eyes being caught by the scarf around the clerk’s neck, now seemingly tighter than before. The clerk tugged at the scarf with one finger nervously while he smiled at Cherry, and uneasy smile on his face.

“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, stammering slightly.

“Are you sure?” Cherry replied in slight surprise. Though how much of it was a show was anyone’s guess.

“Yes! I’m quite fine, but I don’t mind paying for your stamp! It’ll be delivered as soon as the postman comes back,” he babbled out nervously, squirming in his own clothes under the monk’s gaze. Cherry looked slightly perturbed in response, narrowing his eyes at the man to study him further.

“Very well… But, I must insist that you call for me if you need help with spirits or if you simply wish to talk,” the monk offered sincerely, a stern faced look on his face.

“Thank you for the offer, Nekomata-san,” he called back nervously as the monk moved to leave, chuckling slightly, “I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”

“Thank you…” Cherry began to say as he left, trailing off as he came to the unknown of the clerks name.

“Okade,” the clerk blurted out, trying to rush out the monk.

“Okade-san, again I am more than willing to help. May you find great fortune,” he called as he spun to leave, waving to Okade with one hand as he gave his blessing. Okade stared out after the Buddhist as he left, placing a shaking hand on his scarf which shifted under his touch.

Cherry strode calmly out of the post office, glancing down at a cluster of young children who were playing near the patio’s edge. When the first one spotted him his face twisted into the shock horror of a student seeing their teacher outside of class, turning tale and running before he even considered telling his friends. A few other boys looked up, taking on similar looks and dashing away like petty thieves who spotted a policeman. They abandoned the rest.

“Children seem to take after sparrows”, Cherry muttered to himself, sauntering over to the remaining boys, along with one girl who had not been warned. He loomed over them watching what game they were playing. Marbles, it seemed. They had quite a few, ranging from dull clay to beautiful pattered glass. After a moment, the girl seemed to notice the shadow that now hung over them and looked up at Cherry, the other boys looking up as well. They all again stiffened, worried they would be told off or cursed.

“Who’s winning?” Cherry asked simply, a deadpan expression on his face, bar a slight smile at the corner of his lips. They looked perplexed at first but seemed to brighten up once they realized he was not there to scold them.

“I am!” the girl piped up in a boisterous tone, smiling a widely, revealing a pair of missing teeth, one on the left of her top jaw, the other on the right of her bottom jaw. One of the other boys, this one with shirt cropped hair, turned to her with an irate expression.

“That’s because you’re cheating! I’m winning really!” the boy accused her, looking up confidently as he finished his retort.

“No I am not!” the girl snapped shoving her face into the boys with a snarling expression.

“Yes you are!” the boy disputed. They continued on returning shots to each other as if passing a ball while the other boys looked at them boredly, likely having seen the performance multiple times before.                                 

[1] Japanese name for Sakhalin, an island to the North of the Japanese Island of Hokkaido and to the East of the Russian region of Siberia around Vladivostok. Fully controlled by Russia after the Second World War.

[2] Kitsune, a type of Japanese Yokai (Spirit or monster), that looks like a fox. Some may have multiple tails.

[3] Cherry’s full name. Sakuranbou, his given name, means Cherry, which he prefers to be called. But, in Kanji it literally means ‘a deranged monk’. Nekomata, his family name, means ‘Cat Spirit’.

[4] A portable Japanese writing implement

[5]

[6]

[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to ones older sister, or a female friend you are friendly with, with their permission.

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