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!!!).