An Instagram notification from my cousin Waheed featuring a soot-stained forge and a barefoot old man mid-hammer-swing inspired this tribute to Habibullah Ahanger, known to us as Bab Raje. In Kashmiri, Bab means "elder" or "patriarch," but in the Ahanger family of Kathpora, Bandipora, the word carries a weight far beyond language. He is not just a man; he is a personality, an aura, sharp, witty, resilient, a fighter who has withstood every storm. At seventy, Bab still stands before his flame-filled furnace. To the outside world, he is a traditional blacksmith, but to us, he is the enduring heart and living soul of our dynasty. 

The Weight of the Anvil Bab’s story is rooted in profound loss after he learned the trade directly from his father, Ghulam Mohammad Ahanger. When Bab was thirty-two, his father passed away, leaving a gaping void. With only Bab and one sister married, and several younger siblings still dependent, the burden of the household fell squarely on his shoulders. He did not flinch, beg, or despair, but instead walked into the family forge, lit the coal, and picked up the hammer. 

For the next four decades, that hammer never stopped falling. He had no formal education, but he had an anvil. He had no salary, but he had scrap iron. With those meagre tools, he fed his siblings, clothed them, and kept the household afloat. He did not raise them as a brother; he raised them as a father. He held their hands through childhood, guided them into adulthood, and married them off with a dignity that honoured Ahanger’s name. Today, his siblings are settled in their own lives. Their children, our generation, are educated, thriving professionals living in cities far removed from the coal dust of Kathpora. Every single one of us owes our........

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