The present through the past

On a rainy and a lazy Saturday afternoon, not having much to do, I decided to revisit my postage stamp collection which I hadn't touched since a long time. Browsing through this collection which I still manage to update, a wave of nostalgia swept over me. Those carefree days of yore replayed in my mind and I couldn’t help but think of today's childhood and that of the yesteryears.

 
There were hobbies then and there are ‘probably’ hobbies now. ‘Probably’ because I hardly know anyone from the present generation who see beyond the ‘electronic world’ which has so much to offer, so much to entertain, so much to while away one’s time. In those days painting, philately, music, songs, reading etc were considered a usual way of life and one was not forced

Those were the days when radio was an important mode of entertainment. And radio meant ‘Vividh Bharati’’Bombay A’ and ‘Bombay B’. Vividh Bharati was all about ‘Bhule bisare Geet’and I recollect ‘Hawa Mahal’ (Is it still on air?). The slow, but pleasant tune of “Hawa Mahal’ still plays out in my mind occasionally. Bombay A and B was about political discussions and talks on agriculture interspersed by Indian classical music.

Television was just launched then and was a luxury that few could afford. And the TV programs in B/W started at 6 PM, with a soulful rendering of DDs signature tune. Chaya Geet, Phool khile hai Gulshan Gulshan, the Sunday evening feature film interspersed by ‘Marathi Batmya’ …and by 10pm it was all over, television programmes done for the day. So off to bed latest by 10 PM!

 
Telephones meant only landlines and public call booths and not every household had a phone. It was a privilege to have one! It was ‘Bombay Telephones’ back then, not MTNL and with only 6 digit telephone numbers which were easy to memorize. Electronic diaries came much later. Telephone numbers were jotted in small pocket dairies and kept carefully in wallets or shirt pockets. 

All these meant that choices were limited in the world of entertainment and hence the recourse to hobbies. An interest in classical music developed as there weren’t any alternatives to listen to apart from the film songs which were duly memorized and can be recollected with ease even today. In contrast, how many lyrics from today’s songs can be recalled? There was a lot of free time which lead to pursuit of creative hobbies like painting, knitting, embroidery etc.

As I write this, the now obsolete concept of ‘Pen Pals’ comes to my mind. Exchanging letters with people from different parts of the world, forging friendships. Exchanging cultural notes, stamps and currencies’….Oh, what fun!!! FB is probably an electronic version of the same.

And how times have changed?? The B/W now seemingly humongous idiot boxes have given way to sleek and smart LED TVs with 24 hours nonstop entertainment. Radio means FM, blurting out the latest chartbusters. Classical music can go and take a walk. Landlines are giving way to mobile phones, smart mobile phones which can do everything.

What is the outcome? Inventions which were supposed to save time have made us busier! Hardly a program is being watched to its completion. Changing channels frequently is the norm. Instant gratification is the need. Patience is the casualty. We carry 2 mobiles in the innocent misconception that it will be convenient and get more irritable when they keep ringing, sometimes simultaneously. We don’t sit peacefully any longer, There is a constant need to send messages, update statuses and check out missed calls….uff!

As I write this, I question myself, am I being cynical? I think. Am I searching for unnecessary faults in a way of life which today’s generation has taken to like a fish to water? May be, may be not! But aren’t these facts?

Looking outside my window I see the huge glass and concrete structures of BKC staring at me and I compare the grand Gothic structures of yore dotting the Fort area in Mumbai starting from the majestic CST with these. These giant glass structures – How telling are they of today’s times? Speedily constructed structures, the glass façade giving me an impression of what facades are actually supposed to do. Hide the internal faults, the ugliness, the ineptness of modern constructions; an outcome of today’s need for instant gratification. It’s a reflection of the world that we live in today. A superfluous world!

Mist in Mussoorie.

The mist in Mussoorie

It's a dead place to go for a vacation, friends said. Why Mussoorie of all the places? 

Mussoorie, a bird's eye view

It turned out to be partly true!! I visited two cemeteries during my week long stay there.  

But let me start from the beginning. After having visited most places in Uttarakhand, Mussoorie was long overdue. Having read a lot of Ruskin Bond, the call of Mussoorie was too tempting to resist any longer. This despite the fact that this quaint little hillstation, once the 'Queen of the hills' has succumbed to the lure of modernisation and is now buried under the rubble of development,like most of the hill stations in our country.

The bustling Mall Road

About an hour and half from Dehradun airport, Mussoorie has somewhat paid the price for its easy acessiblity. This was evident all around me as as my car entered its famous Mall road. The road was bustling with tourists, eateries and souvenir shops. The mountains are impossible to view from here,their sight blocked by ugly hotels and shops built hapazardly. Thankfully, driving a little further down,the road widened a bit, shops and tourists became sparse and the sight of the hills gladdened my heart.

Climb to our Hotel

It was a sunny day on the 30th of May 2013 as I checked-in into the hotel which was located just off the Mall road, but at a height of about 300 meters from it. It was quite a steep drive upto the place. The view from my room was awesome. The windows opened upto the vistas of the greater Himalayas in the far distance. Unfortunately, the skies weren't clear enough that day to see the snow peaks from my window, but layers upon layers of the Himalayan hills could be seen till the eyes could see no more.

By the time lunch was done with, another 2 hours passed and suddenly I  experienced the fickleness of weather in the hills. The sun was now engulfed by dark clouds,a steady drizzle began, a cold wind blew and  the mountain chill turnied the raindrops into hail. I could see visualise this hail and wind battering the mountains which stood strong braving this onslaught. For someone who had just arrived from the humid coastal plains of western India this was a revelation!

A heavenly feel.

The next morning greeted me with another pleasant suprise. I peeered outside my window and a blank canvas stared back at me. It was a sheet of absolute white outside. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, wondering if there was something wrong with my eyesight. The hills had disappeared completely. It was as if nature had shut herself off by pulling a white veil over herself. The cool mist wafted in through the window..... Sitting on a rocking chair by the window  into my room with a cup of piping hot tea, a plate of Pakodas and a book to read...... Ahhhh... if this isn't heaven, then what is, I wondered. In some time as the mist thinned out, the clouds, the hills and the trees appeared. It seemed like I was witnessing a magician at work or was it a painter who had painted this scene on the white canvas?

During my stay in Mussoorie. I tried to look beyond the usual fare which a hill station offers, I stared unabashedly with a penetrative gaze and lo and behold, the beauty of Mussoorie unveiled it self,its mask created in the name of progress and development peeling off. I could feel its soul and palpate its pulsating heart beat. Beneath the apparently dead town I could sense a thriving, throbbing and timeless creation.

St Paul's  Church 

The Britishers should be given due credit for discovering most of the present day hill stations in India. Shimla, Darjeeling, Dalhousie, Nainital, Almora, Mussoorie etc being some of them. Mussoorie, while not being as important an administrative center as Shimla, served as a recreational and retirement home for many. The more than century old churches, some bungalows now comverted to heritage hotels stand mute witnesses to those days.

Landour - about 4kms away, the twin town of Mussoorie is as close as one can get to see how Mussoorie must have been in olden days. Being a cantonment area, it's largely untouched by the crass commercialisation that has ravaged its counterpart. Knowing that Ruskin Bond stayed in Landour, I decided to trek to the place. A left turn from 'Picture Palace' on Mall road and the road leads to Landour through the narrow lanes of Landour Bazaar with its quaint little shops. There are a couple of antique shops on the way which have authentic items for sale. Before I forget I must mention that Mussoorie doesn't have a single movie theatre at present. It used to boast of 6 theatres till recently, but unfortunately all have shut down. 'Picture Palace' which used to screen movies is now a gaming zone and has a small theatre showing 5D films.

Having snacks at 'Char Dukan'

Coming back to Landour, the best way to explore is on foot and this was no exception. A walk upto Lal Tibba, the highest point in Landour while very steep at places will pass through most places of interest. I passed Ivy cottage - Ruskin Bond' s home and on an impulse climbed upto the 1st floor where he stays in a single room, but one which commands a beautiful view of the Himalayan range. Without a prior appointment,I couldn't muster enough courage to knock on the door and turned back. Another the  1/2 hours climb and I reached 'Char Dukan, which used to be the parade ground during British days. Now about 5 shops occupy this area and provide food, groceries and other daily requirements for locals and tourists. Close to Char Dukan, is the quaint and pretty Kellog's church,established in the 1860's.

Rokeby Manor

Landour has hardly any hotels, I saw just a couple of them - Doma' s Inn at Ivy cottage and the Rokeby Manor, an old mansion, now run as heritage hotel by hotelier Sanjay Narang. Rokeby, which is more than a 150 year old structure has an interesting history and worth a look. 
Landour also has an old cemetery, which is quite well maintained, but not as big as the one in Mussoorie. It was locked when I reached and the caretaker required a little cajoling to let me in. It contains the grave of Tom Tom  Alter's  parents and many other Englishmen and women who never returned back to England, by Providence or by choice.

Ruskin Bond at the Cambridge book store

My visit to Mussoorie could not be complete without meeting its most famous resident, Ruskin Bond. Even though I couldn't meet him at his residence, I booked an appointment with him for the next day at the local book store which he visits once a week. The owner, a very affable person arranged it for me and also for a few books to be autographed by him. 

I should also mention about a few eateries in Mussoorie. 'Chick chocolate' opposite Clark's hotel on the Mall road where we had one of the best Pizzas ever which could easily put CPK and its likes to shame. It also had some lovely shakes. Mouth watering Tibetan fare at 'Momo's' next to Chic Chocolate and also at 'Domo's Inn' in Landour shouldn't be missed.


Ivy Cottage
Pizza at Chic Chocolate
It drizzled daily, through out my stay in Mussoorie. The mist was always hanging in the air, occasionally becoming so heavy that I could hardly see beyond couple of feet during my walks. It shrouded the hills completely and at times it floated through the open windows of my room giving an ethereal look to the place. 
There was a heavy mist and a steady drizzle on the the day we ventured out to see the cemetery in Mussoorie located at Camel Back road. This one established in 1929 has some old graves dating back to 1816. I called Ms Colleen Ganzter,(she of the eminent travel writer duo of husband and wife) and sought her permission to visit the cemetery and were asked to be there by 11AM the next day.

Mussorie Cemetry

I woke up to another rainy morning. Braving the drizzle and the cool mist,the 4 (my kids are more than eager always to visit cemetries) of us reached the gates about 1/2 hour early. We all stood there patiently huddled close together trying to get the warmth of each other's bodies waiting for caretaker of the cemetry. 10 minutes past 11, out of nowhere, through the mist, Prem Singh appeared.I looked at the his feet, expecting them to face backwards. The setting was perfect for a ghost story, straight out of Ruskin Bond's book. Confiming my identity, he unlocked the gates and let us in.  

Inside the cemetry.

The tall trees in the graveyard, the heavy mist hanging in there background, the continuous splatter of raindrops falling through the leaves completed the eerie picture of a spooky cemetery.  I half expected apparitions arising from the weather beaten graves. 
Strangely, I experienced no fear, only peace. The overall experience was surreal. The weather, being more responsible for it. The mist gently floated around, a chill in the air, and a sense of serenity descended on me.  The site of this beautiful cemetery on the slopes of Mussoorie, overlooking the mighty Himalayas made death seem inviting.... If this is where I would be buried forever, then I will welcome death with open arms, I thought as I walked in between the tombstones, reading the beautifully calligraphed, sculptured epitaphs.

My stay in Mussoorie was coming to an end. A lot of places remained to be seen, many things left to be done. I hadn't expected my short stay to be so memorable. With a heavy heart and a promise to myself to return, I left for the leg leg of my journey to Kanatal. 

Deodhar forests at Kanatal.

Kanatal which is about 40kms away and about 1000feet higher than Mussoorie is still a virgin hill station with few hotels that are scattered far and in between. It has an almost 360º view of the Himalayas. The slopes on either sides of the road abound with verdant Deodhar trees. Early morning walk through these forest of Deodhars gave me an exprience to cherish for life. The branches at the top of these trees form a canopy and the slanting rays of the early moring Sun filtering through them have left an undeletable image in my mind. In the background the chirping of birds, the monsoon call of the Koel.....Some of the best things in life are surprisingly free. I felt blessed as I lay down in the woods, staring at the morning sky, through the canopy formed by these tall majestic trees and these words by Rudyard Kipling quoted aptly in a book by Ruskin Bond came to my mind....

"and the last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages,the scent of  damp wood-smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth,and rotting pine-cones. That is the true smell of the Himalayas,and if once it     creeps into the blood of a man, that man will at the last, forgetting  all else, return to the hills to die."

My thoughts as I run

Thoughts form and the words flow.....

 The Joy of running! What I think when I run…. 

Running to the school as a kid, then to catch the train during my college days, then running about to establish my practice and now running the Marathons. No doubt, it is said we are 'Born to run'.

Tomorrow morning, in the wee hours of dawn, when most of the Mumbaikars will be enjoying their Sunday sleep, I will be at the Azad maidan along with thousands of fellow runners bursting with the pent up energy, brimming with enthusiasm, eager to start the 42.1 km long run - the Mumbai Marathon.

It will be a culmination of nearly all the year round training, days of getting up bleary eyed, at the crack of dawn to run every alternate day. Running early in the morning has its share of joy which only a runner can experience.

It's usually dark as I start my runs, the sun yet to rise, but the anticipation of a new dawn makes this darkness different from that of the night. The early morning chill, the cool breeze makes the start enjoyable. I am fresh, if the previous night's sleep has been uninterrupted, but more often than not, there is always someone who decides to get a stroke or an attack in the dead of night. Nevertheless years of getting night calls right from my residency days makes me get up at least once to check my mobile and see if I have missed any. Pavlov’s reflex, I guess!

Unlike the hustle bustle and chaos of the late morning, this time of the morning is a different world. The milkman on his bicycle whistling past, the vendors arranging the morning newspapers in neat pile, the roadside hawkers yet to set up their stalls and the near empty streets that greet me as I take a turn on the Hill Road are sights which I won't see as the day progresses. The occasional tempo with flowers, sometimes fish, zips past by me, stimulating, sometimes numbing my olfactory senses in its wake.

As day light breaks, the chirping of birds flying overhead in search of food intermingle with the music on my mp3 player. I see stray dogs moving menacingly on the road, barking and marking their territories. Somehow they never trouble me, though a lot of runners complain about dogs running after them. I usually ignore them and never even look at them; it's a dog’s world after all!!


I notice people, animals and the birds around me and realize that everyone seems to be living in a little universe of their own creation, going around their routine like well oiled machinery. The interactions that we have with each other, touching each other's lives is more often than not self-centered, catering to the fulfillment of our own desires.

I am getting my gear ready and also downloading songs in my music player for tomorrow’s run, a flashback starts in my mind and I recollect my 1st Full Marathon 3 years ago and how tense I was before the run. During my runs and even on the Marathon day, I always carry my Mp 3 player with me. I can't run without my music and contrary to the majority who listen to fast paced music or songs, I love listening to slow, but intense songs from old Hindi films. They somehow seem to gently mingle with the relaxed morning atmosphere making my runs more enjoyable. As the music plays on and my run progresses, my mind starts to take off on a flight of fantasy. The lyrics play on in my mind and I become one with the singer. I become sad poet, that rejected lover, the happy tramp, and sometimes the carefree young man trying to find his moorings in this world.

The middle part of the run is the most comfortable, somewhere between the 10 to 30 km mark. I go on a cruise mode now. A gentle rhythm has developed. The music of my Mp 3 player is regaled to the background now as the sound of my feet grating on the concrete starts to synchronize with my harsh breathing and my by now thumping heart and a different melody starts playing in my ears. I am in a different orbit now. I am in a trance, oblivious of the surrounding site. It's only I, me and myself.

The final part of the run, the last 10 Kms is the defining part. It can make me or break me. Fortunately it has been the former so far. It's run more with the mind that the body, they say and it's so true. Muscle fatigue starts to set in, cramps bog me down, the body tells me to stop, but the mind is made up. It has to cross the finish line, the job once started has to be finished. The cheering of the crowd eggs me on.... It's a few Kms now and the end is in sight. I reserve a few inspirational songs for the last 2 to 3 Kms  It adds a spring to my run and an extra bounce to my steps. I can see the finish line now. The sight itself rejuvenates me as it does to all the runners. The photographers lining the sides near the finish line brings out a smile on my tired face and as I breast the tape, I eye the timer. I have achieved what I had set out to.

As the agony gives way to ecstasy, the pain to pleasure, a wave of exhilaration sweeps over me and I recollect a quote I had read, “First you feel like dying. Then you feel reborn." It's been a satisfying run. One more run completed, my 1st full Marathon. It was all about competing with me, bettering myself and coming out on top. It was about my universe, the one I had created for myself and about conquering it!

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!!