Impressions : Kashmir November 2017
Mere mention of Kashmir evokes such mixed impressions, of charming romantic Hindi films of yester years and the contemporary dark films on conflict, juxtaposed in the backdrop of breath taking scenic beauty. Of ethnic cleansing, media reports of militancy, of stone pelting and valour of Defence forces.
When Vinita and Pramod offered us to accompany them to Srinagar on a timeshare holiday in November, I was hesitant. No, not because of security concerns, but because I am sceptic of very cold climates and the increased possibility of being stranded by natural disasters due to rains and snow. But I had never been to Kashmir, the temptation and a little persuasion finally won.
So off we went. The arrangement was to stay at a houseboat in Dal Lake for a day and then shift to a hotel for rest of the stay.
The houseboat Zamzam was opulent, with intricately curved walnut furniture, artefacts on display, fully carpeted floors. It had a sitting room, dining room and bedrooms with attached bathrooms. All rooms had heating arrangements with ‘bukhari', where wood logs were burnt, and we were provided with hot water bags in bed, absolutely life saving, the latter. But more than one night stay at houseboat could be claustrophobic, after the novelty wears off.
The houseboats in Kashmir have a disadvantage, they are stationary in the middle of the lake, and one is totally dependent on ‘shikara', the small boats for mobility, on payment per trip. Worse, the shikara are not available after 6:30 pm, so one can not go out to town to have dinner. Choice of food is limited, need to be ordered in advance, and charges are very expensive when compared to similar food available in restaurants in town. But a great photo opportunity to show off, must say.
Our first brush with Kashmiri hospitality was at the houseboat. When we asked if we should not remove outdoor shoes at the deck itself as inside was carpeted, the manager was genuinely aghast at our asking..”this is YOUR home, please do whatever you like, do not embarrass me, I am a nobody”. The streams of vendors that came to sell wares at the houseboat, shawls, wood work, trinkets, were all very polite and persuasive, and even when we did not buy, the smile on their face did not wane.
We set off for Gulmarg immediately after checking in the houseboat. It had snowed at Gulmarg the previous day as well, and we had the first hand taste of fresh snowfall soon, just when we finished a quick lunch after reaching Gulmarg. There was a Shiva temple at a height in Gulmarg which we had planned to climb to, famous for picturisation of Rajesh Khanna-Mumtaz song Jai Jai Shiv Shakar, but soon the temple which was visible just then, gradually vanished from sight, as it started snowing. We decided to return to Srinagar, the car was cautiously moving in slow motion...as we clicked photos and video clips of snowfall en route. We reached the houseboat just in the nick of the curfew time of shikara service. Whew!!Weather forecast was clouds, rain and snow for the next day, so we dropped the idea of going to Sonmarg. We had already experienced fresh snowfall, more of the same did not seem too attractive.
So it was to be local sightseeing and shopping. We checked out from houseboat and checked in at hotel Sarobar in town. It rained intermittently, sky remained overcast, saw a couple of Moghul gardens while it drizzled off and on, had chai pakora inside J&K tourist cafe when it started raining hard, and when rain refused to stop, decided to go to the Hazratbal shrine and the city museum.
Women are allowed up to a point inside the Hazratbal shrine, and not beyond. Nothing much to see either, at least for women.
Very few visitors to Kashmir would really want to spend time indoors, we did it due to lack of choice, but I am so glad that we visited the museum. How else would I have seen such rich inheritance from close quarters, photography is not allowed in museums, but we were about the only visitors, and the guards were indulgent when we clicked pictures of exhibits and legends on our cell phones. I must remember to include some of the pictures in the album.
The positivity of Kashmiris is palpable. The shop from which we bought walnuts encouraged us “don’t let rains keep you, you have come to see Kashmir,grab an umbrella, just do it”. Most places offer Kahwa as a welcome gesture, and a shop even made us sit on ‘magic sofa',electrically heated and also covered our legs with an electric blanket.
That night a militant was killed in Srinagar.
Next day the shutters were down in most shops and restaurants in Srinagar. Five more militants were killed in district Bandipura, we made enquiries if travelling to Pahalgam in Anantnag district would be safe. “Nobody harms civilian tourists”, that was the general confident statement of everybody we spoke to. It was a partly Sunny day, we found most commercial places shut en route, but were rewarded by an unscheduled visit to Avantipur, saw the apples on trees from close, passed by the cricket bat cottage industry village and the saffron mandi village, and reached Pahalgam. We missed seeing the Martand Sun temple due to lack of time, it involved taking a diversion. The locals call it “Mutton” temple, hahaha.
The (Muslim) guide at Avantipur knew the history and legends in the Vishnu mandir so well, it was awe inspiring. He did not get his salary for a couple of months, which was kind of ‘normal ‘. According to him, people like him are able to get by only as most have farmland for basic necessities. I was thinking, if, like in other States, land indeed became transferable, would that help or harm the locals at the margin?
The scenic places to see in Pahalgam are accessible only on pony, had not bargained for it at my age and ahem...weight. But we decided to give it a shot after bargaining on lines advised by our driver. Whatever the owner asks for, just offer half and stick to it. We were four, with two pony attendants. It had rained and snowed the previous day, slushy rocky narrow terrain, steep ups and downs, with ponies choosing softer ground precariously close to edge- it was so adventurous!!
The young pony attendant kept boosting my morale with gems , “ who says you are old, old are those who have no teeth left”, “ You think you are fat, arey so many Amarnath Yatris have such paunches that they can not even see the handle in front to hold on to”, and made me laugh and lose fear. It was a backbreaking task for the attendants, walking on slippery slopes, holding on to us to maintain proper balance, the works.The attendant of my 9 year old pony, Mastana, was Ishfaq. He was a little younger than my son, and had a disarming smile.
We reached Baisaran -mini Switzerland after stopping to see from atop the pony, Dabian, the place with a quaint legend about hunting of a tiger and a deer by a single arrow shot. Baisaran was a lush green expanse, set against backdrop of the snowy mountains and pine trees, with patches of snow on the ground...out of the world. Bowl of hot Maggi was soul food at Baisaran for us. On way back,we stopped at a couple more view points, seen from the pony.
While we were in Srinagar, we talked to ordinary Kashmiris, like our driver, shop keepers etc about their perception of the situation in Kashmir. They are disdainful of politicians of all hues, past and present. According to all people that we spoke to, “media exaggerates”, and then with a smile “seeing for yourself is believing, isn’t it”? They are guardedly resentful about armed forces continuing to be deployed in the state, but are nevertheless cheerful with inherent positivity.
An incident will be etched in memory as a final takeaway for me. I have never seen a security person who smiles while doing his job anywhere. While returning, the security drill at Srinagar airport is very strict, with luggage loaded and screened at multiple points. At one such point the handle of my trolley suitcase had got dislodged. The security person at the next checking point saw it, and himself put it back in the slot from which it had come off, tied the security rope very securely so that the contraption stays together, and smiled “I would have fixed it permanently if I had the right glue and time”.
This was an unknown facet of Kashmiriyat for me. The blessed land and its gracious people.
Mere mention of Kashmir evokes such mixed impressions, of charming romantic Hindi films of yester years and the contemporary dark films on conflict, juxtaposed in the backdrop of breath taking scenic beauty. Of ethnic cleansing, media reports of militancy, of stone pelting and valour of Defence forces.
When Vinita and Pramod offered us to accompany them to Srinagar on a timeshare holiday in November, I was hesitant. No, not because of security concerns, but because I am sceptic of very cold climates and the increased possibility of being stranded by natural disasters due to rains and snow. But I had never been to Kashmir, the temptation and a little persuasion finally won.
So off we went. The arrangement was to stay at a houseboat in Dal Lake for a day and then shift to a hotel for rest of the stay.
The houseboat Zamzam was opulent, with intricately curved walnut furniture, artefacts on display, fully carpeted floors. It had a sitting room, dining room and bedrooms with attached bathrooms. All rooms had heating arrangements with ‘bukhari', where wood logs were burnt, and we were provided with hot water bags in bed, absolutely life saving, the latter. But more than one night stay at houseboat could be claustrophobic, after the novelty wears off.
The houseboats in Kashmir have a disadvantage, they are stationary in the middle of the lake, and one is totally dependent on ‘shikara', the small boats for mobility, on payment per trip. Worse, the shikara are not available after 6:30 pm, so one can not go out to town to have dinner. Choice of food is limited, need to be ordered in advance, and charges are very expensive when compared to similar food available in restaurants in town. But a great photo opportunity to show off, must say.
Our first brush with Kashmiri hospitality was at the houseboat. When we asked if we should not remove outdoor shoes at the deck itself as inside was carpeted, the manager was genuinely aghast at our asking..”this is YOUR home, please do whatever you like, do not embarrass me, I am a nobody”. The streams of vendors that came to sell wares at the houseboat, shawls, wood work, trinkets, were all very polite and persuasive, and even when we did not buy, the smile on their face did not wane.
We set off for Gulmarg immediately after checking in the houseboat. It had snowed at Gulmarg the previous day as well, and we had the first hand taste of fresh snowfall soon, just when we finished a quick lunch after reaching Gulmarg. There was a Shiva temple at a height in Gulmarg which we had planned to climb to, famous for picturisation of Rajesh Khanna-Mumtaz song Jai Jai Shiv Shakar, but soon the temple which was visible just then, gradually vanished from sight, as it started snowing. We decided to return to Srinagar, the car was cautiously moving in slow motion...as we clicked photos and video clips of snowfall en route. We reached the houseboat just in the nick of the curfew time of shikara service. Whew!!Weather forecast was clouds, rain and snow for the next day, so we dropped the idea of going to Sonmarg. We had already experienced fresh snowfall, more of the same did not seem too attractive.
So it was to be local sightseeing and shopping. We checked out from houseboat and checked in at hotel Sarobar in town. It rained intermittently, sky remained overcast, saw a couple of Moghul gardens while it drizzled off and on, had chai pakora inside J&K tourist cafe when it started raining hard, and when rain refused to stop, decided to go to the Hazratbal shrine and the city museum.
Women are allowed up to a point inside the Hazratbal shrine, and not beyond. Nothing much to see either, at least for women.
Very few visitors to Kashmir would really want to spend time indoors, we did it due to lack of choice, but I am so glad that we visited the museum. How else would I have seen such rich inheritance from close quarters, photography is not allowed in museums, but we were about the only visitors, and the guards were indulgent when we clicked pictures of exhibits and legends on our cell phones. I must remember to include some of the pictures in the album.
The positivity of Kashmiris is palpable. The shop from which we bought walnuts encouraged us “don’t let rains keep you, you have come to see Kashmir,grab an umbrella, just do it”. Most places offer Kahwa as a welcome gesture, and a shop even made us sit on ‘magic sofa',electrically heated and also covered our legs with an electric blanket.
That night a militant was killed in Srinagar.
Next day the shutters were down in most shops and restaurants in Srinagar. Five more militants were killed in district Bandipura, we made enquiries if travelling to Pahalgam in Anantnag district would be safe. “Nobody harms civilian tourists”, that was the general confident statement of everybody we spoke to. It was a partly Sunny day, we found most commercial places shut en route, but were rewarded by an unscheduled visit to Avantipur, saw the apples on trees from close, passed by the cricket bat cottage industry village and the saffron mandi village, and reached Pahalgam. We missed seeing the Martand Sun temple due to lack of time, it involved taking a diversion. The locals call it “Mutton” temple, hahaha.
The (Muslim) guide at Avantipur knew the history and legends in the Vishnu mandir so well, it was awe inspiring. He did not get his salary for a couple of months, which was kind of ‘normal ‘. According to him, people like him are able to get by only as most have farmland for basic necessities. I was thinking, if, like in other States, land indeed became transferable, would that help or harm the locals at the margin?
The scenic places to see in Pahalgam are accessible only on pony, had not bargained for it at my age and ahem...weight. But we decided to give it a shot after bargaining on lines advised by our driver. Whatever the owner asks for, just offer half and stick to it. We were four, with two pony attendants. It had rained and snowed the previous day, slushy rocky narrow terrain, steep ups and downs, with ponies choosing softer ground precariously close to edge- it was so adventurous!!
The young pony attendant kept boosting my morale with gems , “ who says you are old, old are those who have no teeth left”, “ You think you are fat, arey so many Amarnath Yatris have such paunches that they can not even see the handle in front to hold on to”, and made me laugh and lose fear. It was a backbreaking task for the attendants, walking on slippery slopes, holding on to us to maintain proper balance, the works.The attendant of my 9 year old pony, Mastana, was Ishfaq. He was a little younger than my son, and had a disarming smile.
We reached Baisaran -mini Switzerland after stopping to see from atop the pony, Dabian, the place with a quaint legend about hunting of a tiger and a deer by a single arrow shot. Baisaran was a lush green expanse, set against backdrop of the snowy mountains and pine trees, with patches of snow on the ground...out of the world. Bowl of hot Maggi was soul food at Baisaran for us. On way back,we stopped at a couple more view points, seen from the pony.
While we were in Srinagar, we talked to ordinary Kashmiris, like our driver, shop keepers etc about their perception of the situation in Kashmir. They are disdainful of politicians of all hues, past and present. According to all people that we spoke to, “media exaggerates”, and then with a smile “seeing for yourself is believing, isn’t it”? They are guardedly resentful about armed forces continuing to be deployed in the state, but are nevertheless cheerful with inherent positivity.
An incident will be etched in memory as a final takeaway for me. I have never seen a security person who smiles while doing his job anywhere. While returning, the security drill at Srinagar airport is very strict, with luggage loaded and screened at multiple points. At one such point the handle of my trolley suitcase had got dislodged. The security person at the next checking point saw it, and himself put it back in the slot from which it had come off, tied the security rope very securely so that the contraption stays together, and smiled “I would have fixed it permanently if I had the right glue and time”.
This was an unknown facet of Kashmiriyat for me. The blessed land and its gracious people.
