My Mountain Song

“The mountains are calling and I must go.” 
― John Muir

This blog is not about the itinerary of my trek. There are plenty of these available on the net. It's a compilation of the feelings and thoughts that drifted through my mind as I walked on braving the altitude, the extremes of day and night time temperatures, the ascent which tested my heart and lung capacities, the descent which tested my knees and toes. It is about the victory of mind over the body. It's about a dream come true. It's about visiting paradise and coming back. There may be higher and more difficult and dangerous treks, but there cannot be a more beautiful trek.

The mountains had been beckoning since long and I was yearning to visit it. The time had come to fulfill my desire. Begin a new relationship, not knowing how it will sustain the ravages of time. Nevertheless a start was made. The choice couldn't have been better. In the lap of the mighty Himalayan peaks, giving in myself willfully into the arms of one of the most beautiful places on earth - Kashmir. It was a place where civilization did not exist. I was beyond the shallow world of all things man-made. God, religion, caste, creed, boundaries and politics did not exist.

This trek had a hidden agenda. To discover the hidden lakes, the great alpine lakes of Kashmir, which would unravel themselves only to those who dared to visit them. Hidden in the valleys between the towering snow peaks of the mighty Himalayas. This was a Paradise! God, if existed probably stayed here and was everywhere and in everything. 

I will be the gladdest thing

Under the sun

I will touch a hundred flowers

And not pick one.

-Edna st. Vincent, “Afternoon on a Hill”

With every new day, every descent or ascent, or even just round the corner, new vistas unfolded in front of my eyes.This trek involved walking on snow, strolling in the meadows, crossing rivers, climbing rocky surfaces... almost everything that a trek is supposed to have. I wondered as I trekked on, could the sky be more blue, the clouds more white and the grass more green?  At places, the trails were narrow, lined by small yellow flowers. The wild Himalayan flowers were one thing that stood out in this trek. I saw them in many hues, yellow, and white, purple and blue. These small mountain flowers, some blooming in clusters like a bouquet, some growing in the midst of rocks, some by the riverside. Each flower bloomed by itself in the wilderness, spreading its fragrance, attracting the bees for self-propagation and then withering away. They looked unusually fresh in the crisp and cool mountain air. Their beauty was a sight to behold for those who dared to reach up to them. The soil and the rocks remain covered by snow for about 6 months. As temperatures rise with the advent of summer, and the snow starts melting, greenery sprouts everywhere, interspersed by swathes of yellow, white and purple. The seeds remain buried all this time, waiting patiently for their chance, their resilience making them victorious. It’s a sort of ‘Jugalbandhi’ between the snow and the flowers and both win.

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis Caroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Every day had a destination, a place to reach and relax - the campsite. The fluorescent yellow tents, set midst the green meadows, surrounded by partially melting snow peaks, the river flowing next to it, the source of pure, genuine mineral water drunk straight from the source. I always looked forward to reaching it. It was my home for 7 days. The sight of these tents soothened my tired body and fatigued mind like an elixir. But the path was different for each one. I had to ascend sometimes, and occasionally had to descend to reach it. There was no way one could take the path for granted. It was beautiful for those who valued it. It was arduous for some, a chore for others. Every step had to be watched, every moment cherished. A wrong step and this very path could turn treacherous. As I treaded on it, I thought, ‘Isn’t it the same in our routine life too?’ We start in the morning, undertake various chores throughout the day with a result to achieve by the day’s end. Every decision is like a step taken. A wrong one and the consequences could be disastrous. I had to be aware of myself, of the steps I take and of my surroundings.  

At places, the clear, blue skies seemed to bend down and kiss the green earth. The clouds hanged as if suspended by invisible threads. Occasionally the dark rain clouds came nearer threatening to burst open, but thankfully it just remained a threat. While walking on the rocks and snow and crossing rivers I had to be careful, strolling on the meadows was a luxury. At places, grazing sheep, camouflaged by the stones, dotted the landscape. There were thousands of them, grazing blissfully taking their own sweet time. Some of them followed by their young lambs was a visual delight and brought a smile on my face, the tiredness forgotten.

I always woke up by 4. Daybreak began by then. It was always chilly in the mornings before the sun rose and covered me with its warm blanket. Sitting on the rocks, watching the gurgling brooks flow past, the early rays of the sun imparting a golden hue to the surrounding peaks and braving the chill was my morning routine. I knew that these moments won’t last forever and wanted to make the most of it. The cold numbed my body and my thought process. I couldn’t think of the past, nor contemplate on the future. I was only in the present then, savoring that moment in time, making an imprint on my mind, one that would last forever and remain a permanent memory in my mind’s eye. The water in the rivulets fed by the melting glaciers increased as more snow melted under the glare of the rising sun. The waters flowing past like time slipping away, the same waters never return. It is a one-way process.

The lakes were the highlight of this trek. Untouched, unspoilt, azure blue, alpine lakes. The Vishansar, which changed colors from morning to late evening. The adjoining Krishansar, which was still partially frozen. And both of them seen together as we ascended to a altitude of 13000ft.

The Gadsar, i.e a lake full of fish which had a turquoise hue. The 7 lakes of Satsar, of which we could see 3 lakes. And last but not the least, the twin lakes of Nandkul & Gangabal over which towered the inaccessible Harmukh peak at 16000 ft. The placid, still and peaceful waters of these lakes seemed contagious. Occasionally a breeze blew causing the surface to ripple a wee bit. The same feeling came over me as I sat on its banks gazing into the waters for long, the breeze making me shiver a bit.

 “Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” 

― R.W Emerson

The nights were as beautiful as the day albeit different in it’s own way. The moon grew bigger as the days passed and on our penultimate day it was so bright that the moonlight lit up the entire valley. The rivers sparkled and the snow peaks shone in its light. The skies were covered with a million twinkling stars. Lying on the grass, watching the stars and the few clouds floating by was a childhood fantasy come true.

“Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.” 

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

As the trek neared its end, just like all good things end, a mixed feeling overcame me. Happy at the thought of returning home to my loved ones, sad at the thought of leaving this Paradise, and going back to a materialistic world, a egocentric world, of world of ruthlessness and live and let die. But I have promised myself; I will be back, a promise I mean to fulfill soon.

PS: This trek called as "The Great Lakes of Kashmir" trek starts at Sonmarg at an altitude of 8000ft. It ends at Naranag agin at around 8000ft after 7 days and 60kms of hiking over a maximum altitude of 13500 ft. My special thanks to 'INDIA HIKES' Tour leaders Tarak, Viral and Dipesh, the guides Noorani and Javed, the support team and all my fellow trekkers who made the journey a lot more easy and full of fun.

Under the Chinar's shade - My thoughts on Kashmir.

Under the Chinar's shade.

I am sure that the poet Iqbal wrote 'Saare jahan se accha, Hindostan hamara....'  in Kashmir. For it is truly India's crown and without Kashmir, India won't be half as beautiful. 

It was with a lot of apprehension that we finalized our Kashmir trip. Worries about the flight schedules going haywire, political unrest, local strikes, terrorist attacks in Srinagar  tormented my mind till the day of our tour.Reassurances from friends and relatives who had 'been there and done that' did little to allay my fears.
Nevertheless the travel bug in me did not relent and the next few pages will outline the details of some  of the most wonderful days of our lives. A trip which proved why Kashmir is truly a 'Jannat'.

Thursday, 10th May 2012,  Mumbai to Srinagar ( 4 hours by flight ex Delhi)

We land smoothly in Srinagar 5 minutes before schedule, my 1st worry about about the flight disruptions done away with. We walk out of the airport and there is Shabbir, pronounced 'Shibbir' waiting with a placard announcing my name. 
Shibbir turns out to a chatter box, eager to please and describe his cordial relations with all the guests he has been with for the past few years. As we drive to our hotel in Srinagar he hands me a dairy of all reviews his guests have about him, needless to say raving ones. It helps soothe my anxious nerves and all my remaining fears vanish.

We reach Srinagar in about 40mins.,check in our hotel, the Lalit Grand, a heritage property spread over 15 acres of lush green lawns, flower beds and the  Chinars. In fact this was the start of my loving relationship with these majestic trees.
After freshening up and lunch, we were to visit the Moghul Gardens, the Nishat gardens being the first. But wandering in  the lawns here, we felt no desire to visit the famed gardens.
We had an excellent lunch of Mutton Kheema, Butter chicken, Rotis, Rice and Dal fry at a local restaurant, Sunset Meadows. Highly recommended for the taste and quantity, but a tad bit expensive.

Nishat Bagh entrance

The Dal lake forms the epicenter of  Srinagar. Most of the stay for tourists in Srinagar will be centered around activities in the lake. The houseboats, Shikara rides and the Moghul gardens which are in the vicinity of the lake. But there is much more to Srinagar than these and I wanted to visit Lal Chowk, the scene of many a protests and old Srinagar, I wanted to see the old Mosques and Dargahs.
We reach Nishat Bagh, the 2nd largest of the Moghul gardens, the Shalimar being the largest and Chasme Shahi the smallest. It is full of tourists arriving in hoardes, posing with the flowers for the cameras. We spot many locals too especially school picnics from the nearby towns. Nishat Bagh, built in 1633 AD by Asif Khan, Nur Jahan's brother means 'The Garden of Joy or Gladness'. Seeing such a never ending panorama of greenery,huge trees and flowers of varying hues dotting the place surely must be gladdening many a heart. An hour passed by effortlessly. 
Shikara ride in the evening on Dal lake was next on the agenda. But since we were to spend the last 2 days again in Srinagar, we deffered the Shikara ride for another day.

We sat on the banks of the Dal lake watching the Shikaras drift by as fishermen cast their baits and waited patiently, the sun playing hide and seek with the rain clouds - it had rained heaving in the morning, gave us our unforgettable moments of joy. The Boulevard Road in Srinagar must be one of the most beautiful city roads in the world, flanked by Poplar tress on one side and the lake on the other, looking more beautiful as the setting sun cast various shades of red and pink in the evening sky.

We spent the rest of the evening in the lawns of our hotel lounging under the giant Chinars.

Friday 11th May, Srinagar (City sightseeing)

We woke up in the morning surpised, to see that the drizzling rain had formed small puddles in the lawn outside. The grass and trees were shimmering as the slanting early morning sun bathed them in its golden light. We had our breakfast and then  explored the vast lawns of the hotel as we  waited  for our car. 

Shankaracharya temple was the our first agenda for the day. I have always been impressed by Adi Shankarcharya.  He was a child prodigy who left his home at the age of 7 years in 805 AD  searching for a Guru, mastered the Vedas at 8, reestablished Hinduism, established the 4 'Mathas' at Shringeri in the South, Dwarka in the West, Joshimath in the North and Puri in the East, before attaining samadhi at a young  age of 32. It was a coincidence and only fitting that we started our tour  by first visiting a temple dedicated to this great man. It is a steep 250 steps climb to the temple and visitors are well advised not to carry any mobile or cameras as photography is strictly not allowed. The view from the top is simply breattaking. We had a bird's eye view of entire Srinagar and the Dal lake with its numerous House boats jostling for space even as the  tin roofs of the houses glistened in the afternoon sun.

Being a Friday, lunch got postponed by an hour as most of the restaurants were closed for Namaz. 

Our driver was reluctant  to take us to Lal Chowk, citing the unpredictable situation there especially after the Friday prayers.
Finally post lunch, we embarked on a tour of the old city excluding Lal Chowk, starting with the Hazratbal dargah. The place was teeming with people who had come to offer prayers here. Bus loads of people were leaving the place, some on rooftops back to theirs homes or work after the prayers. We drove through the narrow bylanes of the old city, lined with old houses. 
Kashmiri architecture is unique in its own way. Houses are made of stone and wood with beautiful arched windows and sloping multi leveled roofs. We saw some abandoned temples and houses belonging to Kashmiri pandits who had fled Srinagar during the height of insurgency. The once upon a time probably elegant mansions looked gloomy with broken window panes and doors falling apart. According to our driver these houses are not encroached upon and some are being reoccupied by the original owners who are returning back. 
Our next stop was the Jama masjid or Jamia Masjid as the locals pronounce it. A very impressive structure, this 17th century Mosque, built first in 1400AD was burnt down 3 times due to its wooden interiors. Even now it is supported by370 wooden pillars almost 58 ft tall made of single trunks of Deodhar  trees. It is a very fine example of Islamic architecture and is unique in the sense that its roof is pagoda like unlike the dome of other mosques.  The place was completely empty as the faithfuls had left after their prayers. The light through the large windows falling on the unbelievably tall pillars of deodhar wood made for an excellent photo op. We spent almost an hour in the quite garden in the mosque as the locals stared at us in amusement as few tourists venture here and fewer still laze around in its gardens.

Photo session in Pari Mahal

Kashmiri Wazwaan

A surprise awaited me when we came out of this place. Food was being cooked in makeshift tent for a marriage function and seeing our enthusiasm and curiosity our driver volunteered to take me in and make me get acquainted with Kashmiri cuisine or Wazwan as it is called locally. He introduced me to the chief chef an elderly gentleman who overlooked the entire preparation. I was shown the art of preparing Goshtaba, Rishta, Rogan Josh, Kashmiri Kebabs, Kheema etc. All the cooking was made on wood stoked fire fuelled by oil from the preparations themselves and the animal fat that it contained. Unfortunately I could wait for them to finish the cooking and taste it due to constraints of time. We had to reach Pari Mahal, our last stop of the day before sun down.

Saturday, 12th May, Srinagar to Pahalgam. ( 90kms approx. 2 1/2 hours drive)

We left for Pahalgam at 11 AM as there was a drizzle throughout the morning and by then the skies had cleared up.

16km from Srinagar, is the town of Pampore, known for its Saffron cultivation. Apparently besides Iran, Greece and Spain,  this is another place in the world which produces Saffron or Zaffran as it is known locally. It is basically the stigma of small purple colored flowers, about 5 lakhs of which produce 1 Kg of the aromatic Saffron. In October, the fields stretching for acres on either side of the road are colored purple because of these flowers in full bloom.

Further down 12 Kms is Avantipore, where lies the ruins of Avantiswami, a temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu built by King Avantivarman in the 9th century. This temple along with many others witnessed wide spread destruction in the medieval times by the Moghul invaders.

The town of Sangam, about 40 kms away from Srinagar is well know for Cricket bats made from Kashmir Willows. Shops selling all sorts of cricket bats line the roads. We went to a bat factory and how cricket bats were manufactured. The price of the bats ranged from Rs.400 to Rs. 2000. My son's joy knew no bounds when I bought a bat for him funnily labelled "Kookaburra".

En route Pahalgam

A brief stop for lunch at a local Dhaba and we set for for the final leg of our journey to Pahalgam. either We had an option of either going straight ahead on this road and enter Pahalgam via Anantnag or take a left turn at Bijbehara. We opted for the latter and this de tour which is about 4-5 kms longer,  took us through picturesque villages flanked on either side by Walnut trees and apple orchards, the trees waiting to flower and bear the sweet Kashmiri apples. It was 3.30pm by the time we reached Pahalgam and checked in at our hotel. It was a pleasant surprise to find the Lidder, the river along which Pahalgam has developed, just a few meters walk from the hotel. We had a day to spare at Pahalgam and decided to spare our sightseeing tour for the next day.

Most of the shops were selling touristy stuff in the market and since our hotel was located  nearby we decided to remaining day strolling in the market and getting a feel of the place. The moment we came out of the hotel, ponywallahs pounced on us like on any other tourists and started pestered us to ride the ponies. We had a hard time shrugging them off. It was then the turn of the roadside shawl and dress vendors to force their stuff on us by their unique marketing ways again which we had to evade using ingenious techniques.

As compared to Srinagar, Pahalgam is relatively cheaper for buying dresses, shawls and souveniers, but bargaining is a must.

Tomorrow will be another hectic day. We have planned a drive in the morning and pony ride later in the afternoon.
  

Sunday 13th May, Pahalgam (Sightseeing)

We left at 10 in the morning, a half an hour's delay and drove to Aaru, about an hour's drive from the market. 

Aru

The breathtaking Panorama

After getting down from the car, we were told to walk back and take a left turn.  As soon as we had done that, a breathtaking view of the Aaru valley unfolded in front of our eyes. We felt as if a curtain was drawn aside exposing nature in all her glory. It was pure fairy tale stuff, snow clad mountains behind the green Pine and Deodhar covered hills,  the clear blue skies with floating fluffy white clouds, vast expanse of a green meadow with a rivulet running through it.  it was Kashmir at its best!! We could visualise Heidi walking with us, a basket in hand, a lamb following her. A few meters walk and after crossing a small stream even the lambs became a reality. Herds of sheep were in front of us, grazing in the open grassland. 

Any comparison to Switzerland is unfair to Kashmir. While Switzerland is beautiful in its own way, Kashmir's beauty is unparalleled. She has the attraction of a raw, ravishing and mysterious beauty, which makes Switzerland rather tame in comparision.  My kids started following the sheep,  lost in their own world, while we sat watching the snow peaks in the distance as the stream gurgled past us. We felt we were truly in Paradise. 

" Hari hari vasundhara pe neela neela yeh gagan, Ye kaun Chitrakar hai, yeh kaun chitrakar!" echoed in my ears as we walked lazily along the stream.

A few tourists took the pony ride  to the far end, but we found walking a better way to get a feel of the place. And walking bare feet feeling the grass under my feet and the cool air caressing my face was worth much more than the pony ride. It was past 12.30 pm and we reluctantly left the place as two more places had to be covered.

Chandanbari, the next stop was a bit of let down after Aru. It's a snow covered slope which is full of tourists and snow cover not being too thick was hard, slippery and mixed with the soil giving a white and brown patchy look to the whole place. Using a stick to climb up, my son Triaaksh and me went up the slope slipping occasionally on the snow to see another stream flowing from the base of the hills.
Betaab Valley, another stop on the way, so called after the Sunny Deol starrer,  Betaab was shot here is well laid out landscaped large garden with the Lidder flowing in its midst.
It was 2.30 pm by then. After clicking a few pictures here and sitting by the river for some time we headed back to Pahalgam for lunch. There are a lot of eating places in Pahalgam and Dana Pani which we had noticed the previous evening was one of them. We reached to find it choc a bloc with loud, noisy tourists and could secure a place only after about 20 minutes of wait. The Thali was oily but nevertheless tasty.

We had originally planned to spend the 2nd half of the day taking the pony ride to other places which didn't have accessibility by road and leave for Gulmarg the next day, about 160 kms and a good 4 hours drive away. But the watch showed half past 4 by time we finished our lunch, and so we decided to defer the pony ride for the next day before leaving for Gulmarg.

Evening by the riverside

Our hotel in Pahalgam was located by the riverside. We sat next to the river watching the waters of the Lidder hurtle past us, hearing its roar, the flow getting more torrential by the hour as the melting snow added to the gushing waters, it's grayish green colour borrowing a tinge of pink from the setting sun. 

As I  lay on my bed waiting for sleep to arrive, I again visualized the lofty snow peaks and the lambs grazing. The sound of the water flowing reverberated in my ears and it wasn't  long before sleep took me into a deep slumber, a satisfied one.

Monday 14th May, Pahalgam to Gulmarg  ( 160 kms approx, 4 hours drive)

The first thing I did in the morning was to catch hold of the Ponywallahs, which as I mentioned before was the easiest task of the day.  The difficult part was the bargaining. After using all the possible tricks of the trade and mutual agreement on the price we mounted our designated steeds and trotted off feeling like warriors. Sitting on horse can be a bit unsettling for the first 15 - 20 mins. I always wonder how these horses with their thin legs mange to carry such heavy loads uphill over slippery moss covered rocks. And this is precisely what they did. They seemed to be well trained, moving ahead in the right direction with hardly any cajoling or coaxing from their minders. After about half an hours ride through rocky terrain, mushy soil and crossing a rivulet or two we reached Baisaran.

I couldn't help but hum, " Yeh haseen waadiyaan ye khula aasmaan, aa gaye hum kahan aye mere saajna "

A vast meadow on the foothills of snow covered mountains, The air was cool and pleasant. Fortunately for us, the skies were clear, the sun shining in its full glory neutralizing the chill of the mountain air. Baisaran has been the site of many a film shootings. The omnipresent salesmen rushed towards us as we alighted from our horses and we had to again shrug them off . it had become habit by now and we could do so effortlessly.The locals  brought rabbits and lamb for the children to play with and pose for photographs, all of course for a price.  

We then saw the other 'points' as the ponywallahs call them- the Dabiyan, Waterfall , Kashmir valley view and Kanimarg in sucession which is  a valley full of big stones fallen from the surrounding hills. 'Kani' means stone in Kashmiri and 'marg' is a meadow.

All these took about 2 1/2 hours. Sunita and I got down from our horses after Dabiyan and walked alongside the horses till Kanimarg. Walking always gives you a sense and feel of the place which cannot be experienced in a drive or on the horse back.

We had to now hurry up for lunch and proceed to Gulmarg, which was good 4 - 41/2 hours drive. Our aim was to reach there before sunset as it could be quiet chilly at night, being at about 9500 ft ASL.
Gulmarg is all about snow and Gondola ride. Also it is a place dominated by Gujjars. It was very surprising to see our driver being very cautious of them. Apparently they are notorious and hold the whip in Gulmarg. All them them are pony owners and do not allow tourist vehicles to ply in Gulmarg except to drop visitors at their respective hotels. From the hotel, tourists have to  either take a Pony or walk down to nearby areas of interest. These are anyway not too far off and well within walking distances if you are fit to. These Gujjars do not trouble the tourists except pester them for the pony rides, about which we were well experienced by then.
We had a brief halt at Tangmarg, about 10 kms before Gulmarg to pick up snow shoes on rent  for the next day to walk in the snow. We realized  that this was a very wise thing did  as surprisingly there were hardly any  shops renting it out in Gulmarg.
Since it was late in the evening by the time we arrived at our hotel in Gulmarg we decided to have an early dinner and retire for the night. 

Tuesday 15th May, Gulmarg and the Gondola ride.

Getting a ticket for the Gondola was a difficult proposition as the queue for the tickets start at 7 in the morning. The window opens at 10 Am. The idea of waiting in the queue for 3 hours when on a vacation was appalling. Shibbir had provided me with a contact number of a 'guide' in Gulmarg who would be arranging for the tickets and our 'sightseeing' in Gulmarg.  I have inserted inverted commas for sightseeing as on retrospection we did realized that we could have easily done without one. Tickets for the Gondolas are available online at www.gulmarggondola.com.  The 'guide' turned out to be a tout in disguise.
Anyway to cut a long story short, we paid him for the tickets, Rs. 300 each  for the 1st level, Rs. 800 each for the 2nd level. If securing the tickets was difficult, getting inside the Gondola seemed impossible. There was a long chaotic queue of desperate tourists pushing and jostling each other to get inside the enclosure where the Gondolas have to be boarded. It was worse the getting inside a 2nd class compartment of a Virar local at Dadar during peak hours and the Mumbai crowd seemed more disciplined compared to the hoardes of tourists here.
My experience of boarding the Mumbai locals helped and I managed to get all the 4 of us into the Gondola safe and secure. There isn't much to see or do on level I, so we didn't waste our time there and went straight ahead for the 2nd Gondola ride to level II. 
A white sheet of snow struck us with its dazzling brightness as we got out of the Gondola. We were in the clouds and in heaven. I could almost see the pearly gates with St Peter standing and welcoming me to this heavenly abode. All the irritability at the chaos and disarray we had been through on our way up vanished as we made our way slowly through the snow, our legs sinking knee deep in some places.  This  place Arawaat is about 13500 ft ASL and full of snow. The LOC between Pakistan and India can be seen at at distance and the army outpost as small specks of black on the snow peaks.
If it was the Ponywallahs who pestered us down, it was now the turn of sledge operators and ski wallahs. I would not suggest either. Its better to walk slowly and carefully around here and enjoy the view. Altitude sickness can strike here and hence one has to be a bit careful. 
The skies were blue and clear with clouds floating along. We spent about an hour here and after we were sufficiently content of the place, boarded the Gondola back to the 1st level for lunch. As we were tucking into the delicious and hot Kashmiri Pulao,  the weather suddenly changed. Dark clouds gather overhead ominously at an unbelievable pace. A strong wind started hollering and we could hear the thunder and the mountain tops became invisible as if they never existed. We could hear announcements asking people to vacate the 2nd Level. The authorities stopped issuing tickets to that level. Soon it started raining, first water drops and then hail. We were enjoying the best of both the types of weather and at the same time empathizing with those tourists who could not make it.

" Bambai ka fashion aur Kashmir ka Mausam, kabhi bhi badal sakte hai " ( Bombay's fashion and Kashmir's weather can change anytime)  is an old Kashmiri saying which was proving true itself to be true now.

Later in the evening after spending some time in the hotel room, we went for a walk to a quaint little Shiva temple, the Mohineshwar Temple established by Maharani Mohini, King Hari Singh's wife almost a century ago in the middle of the meadow near the market. It's an enjoyable walk and we got some good views from there. There seemed to be more horses or ponies than people in Gulmarg. 

Wednesday 16th May, Gulmarg to Srinagar.

The day as predicted turned out to be bright and sunny with clear skies. In fact we were feeling uncomfortably hot in the car during the drive back.

Since our check in time was at 2 PM, and we were early in Srinagar, we decide to visit the Govt. Arts Emporium at Heritage road in Srinagar. Drivers were reluctant to take us there pleading ignorance of the place. Whether it was feigned innocence or genuine I would never know, but we reached the place after asking for directions from the pedestrians. It was worth a visit if only to see the magnificent Heritage building in which it is located, and also a wide variety of exquisitively carved Walnut wood  handicrafts ranging from jewelery boxes to beds to 8 seater dining tables and hand woven rugs.

We were to spend the rest of the day and the next 2 nights in a house boat. No stay in Kashmir can be complete with out a day's or two stay in one.And after reaching our house boat on the banks Nagin lake we waited till evening to venture out. On such days it bright till late evening so days are longer. We visited Chasme Shahi. It was too crowded for comfort, so we canceled our plan of visiting Shalimar garden and opted for a Shikara ride on Nagin lake instead. It turned out to be a good idea and the 1 hour ride through the lotus leaves, water lillies and floating gardens, as we watched the sun set behind the mountains inspired us to see the floating market next morning.

Thursday 17th May, Nageen lake, Srinagar, Sonmarg  and back.

We got up at 4 am to leave by 4.30 am. It was pitch dark when we boarded the Shikara. We could hear the Azaan (call for the morning prayers to the Muslims) all around us interspered with the chirping of birds. We entered the Dal Lake through a narrow passage and negotiated our way through the fields of turnips, cauliflowers cabbages,  raddish, tomatoes and spinach. It was astonishing to see such fertile land in the midst of the lake. 

As the sun peeped from behind the mountains, we reached the place where the locals get their fresh produce in wooden boats and sell it to the highest bidders. We saw as boats which were full of vegetables were emptied out into other boats which bid the highest. Money and bunches of vegetables changed hands. 
We sailed gently along the placid back waters of the Dal lake forming canals through old Srinagar and saw a different view of the city from the water. There were shops selling usual groceries to touristy stuff opening on the water front and the locals on boats buying daily goods from them. Shikaras drifted listlessly outside their homes as their owners were getting ready for another busy day.
We reached our house boat by 7.30 AM, had breakfast and then got ready to leave for Sonmarg. This was our penultimate day and we wanted to make the best of it. It was cloudy as we left for the 2 1/2 hours drive. A cloudy day was forecast. It had been a perfect tour for us so far and I was praying for the clouds to clear during the long drive.
Sonmarg is on the way to Leh. So there is lot of traffic, especially heavy vehicles and army convoys on this road, but as they say, sometimes the drive is more beautiful than the destination and as  we reached Sonmarg after enjoying the beautiful drive along the Indus, the cummulonimbus which had gathered overhead were intent on proving themselves and it started pouring. As if this wasn't enough, a cold wind started blowing and it was wet, cold and breezy. No way we could enjoy Sonmarg, about which we had heard so much!! We took refuge in a restaurant and to pass time had an early lunch. 
As the rains showed no signs of abating nor the clouds of clearing, we realized that we had pushed our luck too far. Nothing can be ever perfect and  can be more unpredictable than the mountain weather, we surmised. We went back to our car for the drive to Srinagar into the cosy confines of our houseboat, when on the way a few kms down the road, we saw beautiful cafe by the riverside and decided to have some hot coffee. The rains had subsided by then, but the cloud cover had not. The Gods must have deliberated amongst themselves for just as we finished our coffee, lo and behold the sun was out from nowhere and it was bright and sunny all over. There wasn't a trace of the dark clouds as if the sun had won a battle and vanquished them all and was now ruling unchallenged over the skies. 
This place was so picturesque that we decided against going back and rather spent time sitting next to the Indus as it roared past us. It was 2.30 PM before we realized. We had spent close to 2 hours here doing nothing, but watching the river, the snow peaks and the tall trees around. It was as if we wanted to  pemanantly engrave this image of Kashmir in our minds, never to be forgotten in our lifetime.


Friday, 18th May Srinagar to Mumbai
Time to pack up and leave . We spent the last few hours in Srinagar (since we had to leave for the airport by 11AM) strolling in the garden above our house boat and seeing a bird's eye view of the Nageen lake, which is so called since it curves like a serpent. It is an offshoot of the Dal, but much more quiet. Those wishing for solitude should opt for a house boat on this lake as Dal lake is very crowded and bustling with activity.

Most of the hotels had large glass windows offering a Panaromic view of the valley. I will miss sitting by the window, seeing the morning sun peeping thru the pines trees, warming me with its gentle early morning sunrays while I enjoyed my morning sip of 'Kashmiri  Kaawa'.

My blog may seem emotional at times, but Kashmir has it in her to bring out emotions. It's a pity that the environment here is that of uncertainty, insecurity and mistrust. Under the apparently normal situation, there is a simmering discontent, fear and like the weather in the mountains, one can never be certain about when the situation may take a turn for the worse.

Kashmir, Kashmiris and Kashmiriyat.
I have traveled across the length and breadth of India, from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, from Mumbai to Meghalaya. I have met the locals, interacted with them, but nowhere have I found them as pleasant, as cultured, eager to please and well mannered as Kashmiris. I had heard that they were shrewd and cunning, but then who isn't. To survive you have to be. After my limited interactions with the locals, I find hard to believe that these people can create so much unrest and violence in the Valley. And if they have,  there must be reasons for doing so. They are proud of their different socio-cultural, lingual and physical identity - their Kashmiriyat and rightly so. 
The people of Kashmir crave for Independence. We saw a few graffitis on the walls near the Dargah university which said " We want freedom".  They don't want to be a part of either India or Pakistan. They maybe justified and while we can empathize with them, we cannot agree. 
An independent Kashmir is synonymous with a weak India. The strategic location of Kashmir makes it necessary for it to be a part of our country or we will be sitting ducks for our untrustworthy neighbours. The center has to play a more important role and consider including the aspirations of Kashmiris in their policies. Their Kashmiriyat has to be retained and respected.  
The Kashmiris and Kashmir should remain - an ever integral part of India, voluntarily, not by military pressure. 

The Chinar should not be uprooted!!