Chronicles of a Traveling Orb...
Paradise: Not Lost Yet!
It was on December 7th in 2008; when Mumbai was still blazing in the aftermath of the recent terror attacks of November 26th and the saturation of tolerance for the politicians; I decided to take off from it all. You can call me an escapist, but at that point of time, when I told people where I was off to, they all chorused that I was crazy. Either I was being too bold or completely out of my mind... I was going to Kashmir! I would agree that I was apprehensive too, since it was my first time, but my anxiety just wanted to see the land which continues to be the 'Helen of Troy' between two nations.
Entering the Kashmir skies, the snow-capped mountains slowly peeped through the clouds. The sight was breathtaking and it felt like finally we had reached heaven's doors. The place had a homely warmth even in the cold temperature of 2 degrees celsius.
Visiting a local Kashmiri friend, I had our first taste of some Kashmiri hospitality. As a Kashmiri tradition, almond nuts were showered on me by his family. Then came Kahva (Kashmiri tea) to immune me to the cold. After a good lunch I proceeded towards Dal Lake where my houseboat was anchored. Reaching the houseboat on a shikara I was greeted with a 'Salaam Memsaab,' by the perpetually smiling houseboat-keeper-cum-cook-cum-waiter Iqbal Khan. He came running on to the landing of the houseboat and pulled the shikara to a halt. It seemed like I entered some old royal palace and couldn't keep our eyes off the wonderful woodwork and carvings that had been done around. In the centre of it was a cylindrical heater called Bukhari, which worked by burning wood. The Bukhari was already warm and the place, as cozy as home. The sun was setting and it filled the skies and the houseboat with a distinct golden glow, something that cannot really be explained but witnessed; only in Kashmir. I asked Khan what was the tourism like and he said, 'tourism is slowly picking up, summers are decent, but we miss the good old days.' Like evenings, the mornings were beautiful too. Right before the houseboat was Shankar Parbat where the Shankaracharya temple stood in pride; and in the early mornings the clouds looked like a veil slowly lifting itself up to reveal the mountain. Breakfast was Harrissa with special Kashmiri roti. It's a preparation made out of mince meat, herbs and spices and keeps you warm throughout the day especially when you are in such cold climates. The next day, I was joined by my local friend and we took time to roam about Srinagar. We trekked up Shankaracharya from where we could see almost the entire Dal lake covered in the morning mist polk-marked with houseboats. The Mughal Gardens, Cheshma Shahi, the Pari Mahal and a couple of more tourist places around the vicinity were obvious to be checked out. The wonderful 22 holed golf course beside the lake seemed like a Kashmiri carpet spread out from that steep height at Pari Mahal.
It was Eid the following day and the city was pretty well decorated and lit up. Bakeries were flooded with people and lots of shopping, lavish cooking and people visiting each other went on. Unlike most of the metropolitan cities of India, where it is a one day affair, here Eid celebrations means three days of joy, togetherness, eating amazing food and lots of merriment.
After Eid, our plans spelt Gulmarg. The road was
narrow and as the height began to rise; the temperatures started falling
—the first sign of snow waiting ahead to welcome us. Reaching the top,
made us feel like we were in a white paradise; it had began to snow
more! We spotted some mountain monkeys who posed for some attention a la
'Page 3ites'; on spotting the shutterbugs! We also realised the
difficulty in walking in the snow. With every step, you can sink in till
the knee, often lose your balance and then go tumbling down. But it was
all fun. Snowfights were obvious! We found an abandoned house which we
broke in to save ourselves from the heavy snowfall ouside. Seemed like a
typical bollywood set. Except that instead of just the hero and heroine
being caught up here, there was a whole big group and not a single
person in it to even pose as the hero. Sigh!
Our next date with snow was in Sonamarg. The place had became more famous post the Kargil war as it was the base camp for the Indian army to move up ahead towards the deadly bullet firing mountains of the Kargil valley. Sonamarg was even more beautiful with small huts and trees lined up and all covered in snow. The snowfall there was heavy yet gentle and one look towards the sky would make you feel like the heavens were showering white flowers on you. While moving towards the glacier, we met Fayaz who proposed to be our guide till the glacier. For some reason we didn't mind him coming along and he was more than happy. He invited us to his small mitti ka ghar that housed his family of ten. It was a cozy place made more cozy when he covered us with blankets and gave us a Kangdi to keep. Kangdi is a small cane basket containing a mud pot in which they put some burning coal and keep it with them throughout the day during the winter months to keep warm. Some even call it 'winter wife/husband'. Fayaz introduced us to the women of the house who looked like angels dawned on earth. Such beauty and innocence is indeed a rare combination and I doubt if you'd find it anywhere else on earth. The glacier was yet another breathtaking experience.
The stream seemed to be breaking into a song while
the falling snow gave tender beats to it. The hypnotic scenery still
flashes before the eyes and the snow ceases to leave the mind. Kashmir
wears a new robe in different seasons. For us, we went at a time where
we could witness two seasons together. While autumn was bidding us the
final adieu in the form of the last few Chinar (maple)
leaves falling down with an orange hue, winter was slowly creeping in
wearing its glistening white attire. On our last day in Kashmir, we
decided to go out on a shikara ride across Dal lake. I took the oars
from Ishfaq, our shikarawala, and said 'I shall row it'. He smiled and
moved aside while I sat in his place and started rowing.
There were vendors who suddenly surrounded our shikara from both the sides. Some selling Kesar (saffron), some selling authentic Kashmiri jewellery while others came around with handicraft goods. Initially we told them off but the displays were way too enticing to resist... we ended up with empty pockets and a bag full of goodies. But the floating market as well as Char-Chinar (four maple) are the main attractions here.The mountains, the valleys, the streams, the snow, the people... every single thing about Kashmir makes you more proud of a land of such abundance being a part of you, your country.
The
Kashmiris believe that everyone who comes there takes back a story with
them. But I think my story began even before landing there, given the
arguments with folks and fighting my own anxieties; and I came back with
a story that says '...to be continued'. It's been four years since, and
somehow it's sort of become mandatory to go back making that annual
trip and bidding the reigning year a good bye.  |
| Houseboats on Dal Lake |
It was on December 7th in 2008; when Mumbai was still blazing in the aftermath of the recent terror attacks of November 26th and the saturation of tolerance for the politicians; I decided to take off from it all. You can call me an escapist, but at that point of time, when I told people where I was off to, they all chorused that I was crazy. Either I was being too bold or completely out of my mind... I was going to Kashmir! I would agree that I was apprehensive too, since it was my first time, but my anxiety just wanted to see the land which continues to be the 'Helen of Troy' between two nations.
Entering the Kashmir skies, the snow-capped mountains slowly peeped through the clouds. The sight was breathtaking and it felt like finally we had reached heaven's doors. The place had a homely warmth even in the cold temperature of 2 degrees celsius.
Visiting a local Kashmiri friend, I had our first taste of some Kashmiri hospitality. As a Kashmiri tradition, almond nuts were showered on me by his family. Then came Kahva (Kashmiri tea) to immune me to the cold. After a good lunch I proceeded towards Dal Lake where my houseboat was anchored. Reaching the houseboat on a shikara I was greeted with a 'Salaam Memsaab,' by the perpetually smiling houseboat-keeper-cum-cook-cum-waiter Iqbal Khan. He came running on to the landing of the houseboat and pulled the shikara to a halt. It seemed like I entered some old royal palace and couldn't keep our eyes off the wonderful woodwork and carvings that had been done around. In the centre of it was a cylindrical heater called Bukhari, which worked by burning wood. The Bukhari was already warm and the place, as cozy as home. The sun was setting and it filled the skies and the houseboat with a distinct golden glow, something that cannot really be explained but witnessed; only in Kashmir. I asked Khan what was the tourism like and he said, 'tourism is slowly picking up, summers are decent, but we miss the good old days.' Like evenings, the mornings were beautiful too. Right before the houseboat was Shankar Parbat where the Shankaracharya temple stood in pride; and in the early mornings the clouds looked like a veil slowly lifting itself up to reveal the mountain. Breakfast was Harrissa with special Kashmiri roti. It's a preparation made out of mince meat, herbs and spices and keeps you warm throughout the day especially when you are in such cold climates. The next day, I was joined by my local friend and we took time to roam about Srinagar. We trekked up Shankaracharya from where we could see almost the entire Dal lake covered in the morning mist polk-marked with houseboats. The Mughal Gardens, Cheshma Shahi, the Pari Mahal and a couple of more tourist places around the vicinity were obvious to be checked out. The wonderful 22 holed golf course beside the lake seemed like a Kashmiri carpet spread out from that steep height at Pari Mahal.
It was Eid the following day and the city was pretty well decorated and lit up. Bakeries were flooded with people and lots of shopping, lavish cooking and people visiting each other went on. Unlike most of the metropolitan cities of India, where it is a one day affair, here Eid celebrations means three days of joy, togetherness, eating amazing food and lots of merriment.
 |
| Gulmarg |
Our next date with snow was in Sonamarg. The place had became more famous post the Kargil war as it was the base camp for the Indian army to move up ahead towards the deadly bullet firing mountains of the Kargil valley. Sonamarg was even more beautiful with small huts and trees lined up and all covered in snow. The snowfall there was heavy yet gentle and one look towards the sky would make you feel like the heavens were showering white flowers on you. While moving towards the glacier, we met Fayaz who proposed to be our guide till the glacier. For some reason we didn't mind him coming along and he was more than happy. He invited us to his small mitti ka ghar that housed his family of ten. It was a cozy place made more cozy when he covered us with blankets and gave us a Kangdi to keep. Kangdi is a small cane basket containing a mud pot in which they put some burning coal and keep it with them throughout the day during the winter months to keep warm. Some even call it 'winter wife/husband'. Fayaz introduced us to the women of the house who looked like angels dawned on earth. Such beauty and innocence is indeed a rare combination and I doubt if you'd find it anywhere else on earth. The glacier was yet another breathtaking experience.
 |
| Sonamarg |
There were vendors who suddenly surrounded our shikara from both the sides. Some selling Kesar (saffron), some selling authentic Kashmiri jewellery while others came around with handicraft goods. Initially we told them off but the displays were way too enticing to resist... we ended up with empty pockets and a bag full of goodies. But the floating market as well as Char-Chinar (four maple) are the main attractions here.The mountains, the valleys, the streams, the snow, the people... every single thing about Kashmir makes you more proud of a land of such abundance being a part of you, your country.
It was more
like a crush (I had on the place) which bloomed into a full fledged love
affair and filled my soul with its abundance. Ahh... Kashmir. Paradise
on earth... trust me it truly is... and isn't lost yet!
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