An Unprecedented Holiday...Exceptional and Incomparable!! (Kashmir - Travelogue Part Three)

PART III

The third day of our trip was for Gulmarg !  Eager appointment with Gondola ride, Afarwat Peak and lots of snow.  However, "no pony rides" was our collective verdict.  Shahid assured we would not take horses but instead have to deal with persistent horse men who would stop our vehicle from going beyond a point and force us to hire them despite the short walk.  Out of the blue Shahid zeroed onto me for putting up an act of getting annoyed for not taking us right up to the Gondola point.  I would have to show anger and be very upset with his sudden desertion.  Well, once again I was on teeter hooks with all the briefing about the rogue horsemen, disorganised rides pesky hawkers and the works, I was quite worried of what lay ahead.

As we once again drove past towns, villages and meadows the mountains moved on ahead of us.  As though beckoning constantly to scale the heights and embrace its splendour.  Our first stop was Tanmarg, at the foot of the hills.  Shahid encouraged us to hire the special gear required for getting on to the snow at this point since they cost a fortune at Gulmarg.

Our little Missy Baba screwed up her nose as she realised she would have to wear some hired clothes.  Since I am unable to wear any other footwear other than my "self engineered" sandals, I chose my overcoat and waited for my family to get their shoes.  It is here that I had a touching experience.  The young boy who was helping did not quite notice my deformed foot so he pressed hard till I told him my problem.  After a few moments to my amazement he fished out two different sizes of boots.  He coaxed me saying there were enough lying around and it wouldn’t hurt him to spoil the pairing for a few hours but it would be a shame for him if I got back without even stepping on the snow.  I was speechless.  I had never experienced such acceptance of my iniquity.  Such generosity to make me a part of main stream and not discourage was rarely experienced by me.  I was moved to tears.  But smiled and blest him for his affection.

And then, at Gulmarg, the drama unfolded with the ghodawallas, Shahid and me.  My son has since awarded me couple of Dada Saheb Falke’s and Filmfare awards.  With much ado we finally did take ponies for a walking distance of just ten minutes.  Here too I was much assisted and welcomed.  I am amazed how this part of the country has been so generous and accepting towards my disability.  My respects and gratitude to this region has gone up several notches. 

When we reached the ticket counter, there was a serpentine queue.  While Sam and Ranjit waited at the general counter; a ladies counter opened up on the other side.  So Ranjit asked me to make my way to it with Sam’s help.  Suddenly out of nowhere a group of “supposedly smart” “monkey-capped” women from my very own city ran, jumped and barged ahead to the counter; almost toppling me over looking quizzically and contemptuously at my stupidly slow pace.  And when I reached the counter they looked at me triumphantly.  However, I got to buy my tickets before them as they were indecisive and broke into parliamentary discussions.  The BSF personnel would have none of it and asked them to move aside.  So, I was ultimately the first to buy my tickets.  Sam who is always infuriated with these attitudes blurted out his newly learnt terms “burn” “bring some alovera” brought a smile to my lips but I chided him saying “forget it...we aren’t in competition”.  My only regret from these incidents is that I wish my fellow Kolkattan’s behaved as cultured as they felt.

Eventually, we made it to the Gondola’s.  The last hitch; we were made to miss one entire round for an Army Officer who was on his honeymoon.  Never mind...the next was just round the corner.  So finally in the Gondola were four of us.  And lo and behold as we went up and away, breathtaking beauty, gasps of awe and a wee bit of fear made it a heady mix of pleasure unmatched.  My God, My God was all that I could say and yes reminded me of the wonderful Creator who created the whole Universe. 

An Unprecedented Holiday...Exceptional and Incomparable!! (Kashmir - Travelogue Part Two)

Next morning we were scheduled for Gulmarg but our "new" driver, Shahid said most emphatically "Nahee, aj aap ka Sonmarg hi hai" (you are to go to Sonmarg today).  He sounded dictatorial adding to my uneasiness.  All attempts to convince him failed miserably as he remained adamant.  I got nervous, my mind conjuring the most horrible chain of events and consequences thereafter.  And then started to imagine what if this was some ploy and what if he takes us hostage by diverting our plans.  Finally, we conceded; my husband assured it was only a slight mix up.  So, off we drove through the city, into the suburbs and away from busy locales towards the mountains.  We drove past the road to the famous Hazrat Bal Mosque, but it was a detour not allowed in our package.  Ranjit, assured "next time" and I sighed softly.  Shahid, who was watching my expression, grabbed the opportunity to win the heart of this "Alag Kaulkatta Madamji" who did not scold her husband with her "khich khich!!”  So he looked at me through his mirror and asked "aap ko jana hai?” I turned to Ranjit for his approval and Shahid repeated "aap bas bolo, aap ko jana hai?”  I muttered "haan, par..".  He turned to my hubby and said "Saab agar time mile toh wapasi ke samay hum jayenge- jo Shahid ke taraf se Madamji ko tohfa!!!”  A faint smile appeared on my lips and Shahid knew he had succeeded, in easing the tension that had engulfed me since morning.

While we drove upwards, Shahid rattled off enough information to embarrass Wikipedia.  Noisy and talkative, distinctly contrasting, with the solitude around us wanting to know every detail of our family.  I was suspicious; why must he ask how much money we made?  Where we worked?  Was he...??  So each time Ranjit started to give away details, I butted in with irrelevant questions.  Finally, I decided to concentrate on the place and not think of the dreadful warnings I was dispatched with. 

The road to Sonmarg is rugged and rough but the snow-capped peaks at a distance made us go click crazy.  Shahid smiled and told us to wait till he showed us the best photo opportunities.  Yet to me every frame was an opportunity and it pained me to see so much poverty.  All remote localities are such treat to the eyes, yet inhabited by people who live in paucity and their lives are bereft of bare minimum.

At the foot of the mountains, was a clearer view of the snow capped peaks that we sighted from the villages.  We were overjoyed and eager to get to the top.  A swift introduction with the "ghora wallahs" and Shahid was gone.  We realised the entire journey through the Thajiwas Wildlife Sanctuary up to the glacier on ponies would take roughly three hours.  Three hours? On Ponies, in a Wildlife Sanctuary that is disconcertingly close to disturbed borders!!  Unable to spot much habitation I was beginning to speculate but put up a brave front.  It was just us, handful tourists and the Horse Men.  Surrounded by a group of unknown men who were forceful in every act, right from the selection of horses to the price we would pay the atmosphere suddenly turned claustrophobic.  Pushing and demanding their way into our preferences they resembled the terrains; rugged and ravaged.  To add to my misery, Stephie who was seeing Ponies at close proximity for the first time started bawling loud enough to raise the dead!  Hapless and helpless, I drowned the wail with my loudest "Shut-up Stephie".  The fear that I carried into the hills from my home in the plains was getting the better of me.  It was beginning to show.

An elderly horseman comforted Stephie "Koi baat nahi..Choti acchi bacchii..ghore acche hai..maza ayegi..."  A quick lesson on horse riding and we set for the mountains.  My heart beat louder than the horses hooves yet I smiled bravely as though the whole affair was a piece of cake.  This I assure you was one of my toughest Mommy Moments.  We were expected to take control of our individual horses with minimum assistance.  While Ranjit and Stephie's male horses stayed on track, Sam and I had to deal with wandering females!  Sam felt adventurous but I panicked whenever my lady decided to gallop away.  The incline to me was always a sharp 90 degree and I promise you I will not be able to do this again save under the influence of Dionysus!  Despite all attempts of the horsemen to take us right up to the glacier, we decided to turn back after Maggi Point.  This is where you stop for a bite and get warm.  We were freezing as the weather turned bad all of a sudden.  "Khuda meherbaan aap bahut takdirwale ho..." that was the verdict of the locals as we were experiencing the first snow fall for the season.  They said the year would bring good fortune for us.  I am waiting... no signs yet; though time has run out, am hopeful still...!

The human mind is perhaps the most complicated, fragile and fickle.  In a matter of moments, an angel turns a gorgon, beauty becomes menacing and pleasure turns punishing.  The very mountains that looked beautiful from down below suddenly turned harsh and cruel.  It was cold and windy added with icy drops of precipitation that bit into our faces.  My baby girl was just not happy anymore and so we declared it was too arduous for enjoyment and sacrificed seeing the glacier.  One of the horse men got Sam a huge chunk of ice from the glacier.  And then we happily retreated.  Despite the disappointment of not making it, and amidst promises of coming back and taking the journey again, on the same ghoras, we did not fail to make the horsemen happy.  And they blest us even more generously than we appeared to them.  

I was relieved to see Shahid waiting at the foot of the hill.  Just one trip with him and already this young lad made me feel very comfortable and safe.  Sonmarg will remain in my memory for long as the most unsteady terrain that I have experienced thus far.  We made a quick exit back to Srinagar and gorged on the most delicious local food for lunch.  A brief stop at the promised Hazrat Bal Masjid erased my distress for the day.  We returned to steaming cups of tea that finally arrived a little before dinner because "Mama" had taken the order and decided to disappear!

An Unprecedented Holiday...Exceptional and Incomparable!! (Kashmir - Travelogue Part One)

Kashmir, it would be for the autumn of 2012.

At the outset I must confess my reluctance along with our many well-wishers about our choice.  Samuel, my son was deeply troubled at the thought of having to lose his life much before 21/12/12.  My only hesitation, as a family of four alone in troubled territory was the vulnerability towards unwarranted risk.  However, all my attempts to cajole even one more family were in vain.  So, after much prayers and a long deep breath, I was at peace to venture on our annual holiday.

My city acquires an added appeal each time we part for a short period.  The sentiment though totally unfounded, would grip me right through my growing years and lingers even today.  I always feel butterflies in my stomach and a lump rising with the thought of what if this was the last time I was going out.  A sudden fear seizes me for split seconds before being awakened by a favourable distraction.

Following an overnight stay at New Delhi, we reached Srinagar a couple of hours later than our scheduled time, courtesy Spice Jet!!  At the Airport, we were met by our Tour driver- cum-guide, Nazir.  True bred Kolkattans we generously offered our broad smiles and greeted him; only to be reciprocated by a very steely glance that froze my already numb fingers and osteopeanic bones!!  Thus we modestly settled into our car seats and waited for his instructions.  Nazir, murmured the names of all the "Baghs" in our itinerary.  I wanted him to reiterate but he ignored and drove us in silence.  I have regularly been reminded by my husband that in an unknown place the driver is the King and one should simply surrender to his will; for without him we were apparently nothing.  And this was not any ordinary unknown place!!  This was Kashmir. So I decided to be quiet for the rest of the day.

All of a sudden it was Stephie's turn to break the silence..."Mamma, is something wrong, why are there so many policemen all around?”  I would have come up with the correct explanation but declined and glanced into the rear view mirror to gauge the reaction of those "steely eyes".  Thankfully there was none and I was relieved.  My heart skipped a beat at every security check and to make matters worse Stephie giggled saying “do we have a bomb or what?”  One more such comment and I assured Stephie that she would be spanked.  I realised this was nothing but paranoia due to years of conditioning and the thought process introduced into our psyche.  Here I was amidst such serene surroundings but deep in my mind I was more or less waiting for masked gunmen to appear and cause commotion.  Perhaps anticipating army men to open up our luggage and rummage through, in the midst of nowhere.

As we drove past the Dal Lake and captured the sights and sounds of the city we were speechless.  The sky slightly overcast for the last rains followed by snowfall was in no competition with the regal Himalayas; they complemented each other.  It looked as though, the mountains were reaching up to kiss the clouds and they were reciprocating with wispy enfold.  The response was mutual just like lovers engulfed in deep embrace.

To ever attempt a description of the splendour of this place would be slighting its majesty.  Beauty so unrefined and rare touches the core of your soul.  I kept repeating to myself, “now I know why they call this paradise on earth.” From the tiniest bloom to the tallest Chinar, it all left me amazed.

The Mughal Gardens is a combination of three renowned gardens namely the Nishat Bagh, Shalimar Gardens and Cheshma Shahi.  These gardens replicate "Timurids"– the Persian scheme of a "walled – in – garden" subdivided into four quarters by raised walkways and canals and are beautifully laid out with manicured gardens and vibrant flowerbeds, terraced lawns and long stretches of cascading fountains.  Jahangir was the first to take up the initiative of building the first Mughal Gardens of Kashmir. 

We began with Cheshma Shahi, which means Royal Spring and derives its name from a spring located at the upper most terrace of the garden.  A quick walk through, in the most spectacular of the three gardens left me yearning to linger on.  The Shalimar Bagh was next.  It was constructed by emperor Jehangir for his beloved wife Nur Jahan. And simply means - Abode of Love.  It is built on a flat land with four radiating arms from a central water source. The water channels are lined with fountains and are marked on both sides by chinar trees.  Last but not the least was Nishat Bagh - Garden of Bliss; it creates a striking contrast with the Dal Lake in the foreground and the towering Zabarwan Hills in the background.  This is the largest of Srinagar’s Mughal Gardens built in 1633 by Asaf Khan, the brother of Nur Jahan.  However this is not a royal garden.

For an ardent fan of Mughal and Gothic architecture, these gardens proved to be a treat to the eyes.  I was fascinated with every little detail of the innumerable structures and was pained to see the aftermath of destruction.  Jewels gorged out, names etched meaninglessly and mangled metal; all bore testimony of mutilation.  I was transported to the yester years and imagined how beautiful and striking it would have been.  I retrieved my path, sad and ashamed to belong to the present.

An account of this day will not be complete without sharing our local experience.  The moment we stepped onto the road outside Shalimar Gardens, our olfactory organs were in unison.  The smell of "kebabs on charcoal" pervaded the air, though none was in sight!!!  When our eyes met we realised we had picked up the same aroma and burst into chuckles.  Finally, we found the roadside "kebab cart" selling "Rooti-Kebab" This is an open roll with salad and yoghurt sauce.  Rooti is pronounced as in Bengal with a stress on "o".  They are supposed to be eaten straight off the "seekh".  One has to use pieces of the bread to slip off the meat from the skewer.  We were clumsy at our attempt but the kebab seller willingly helped us and made the local lads wait their turn.  We devoured the "Rooti-kebabs" within a few minutes.  I said to myself, "paradise indeed for my gastronomically oriented family."

Our budget hotel had one interesting individual - the "bell boy".  He introduced himself as "Mama", which was his name.  His punch line - "kuch bhi lagegi, Mama ko bulayegi" (more on this later!!!).