Kashmir /1

I don’t know if it happens to you, but sleep has always eluded me whenever there is a need to wake up early in the morning. At around eight in the evening, I had received a phone call from Srinagar. A pleasant voice at the other side introduced himself as Firdaus. He would be our driver and guide for next three days, till the time we reach Leh. He assured us that he would be waiting at Srinagar airport at seven in the morning, which was the time when we are expected to reach. I had understood this during my last visit to Kashmir, tourism business in the valley has been hugely affected, and the locals do not leave a single opportunity to earn some money. Otherwise, how could you explain that on the morning of Eid-ul-Zuha, Firdaus had happily agreed to transport us to Sonamarg. The only condition he had kept was that he would return to Srinagar immediately after, and would escort us towards our onward destinations only from the next morning.

The cab was expected at quarter past three in the morning, and I was still tossing and turning in the bed past midnight. Only when I had given up all hopes of getting some sleep, I fell into slumber very briefly, only to be awakened by the shrill sound of the alarm. Groggy from getting only a couple of hours of sleep, I stumbled across to start what promised to be a very exciting holiday. Breakfast was the only reason we called the cab so early. Completely reluctant to spread butter on toast, and then to wash the plates before we leave, we decided that the insanely priced watery tea at the airport lounge would be a better alternative. I should have known that the trip would be too good, when I bumped into Somen at the airport when we had just ordered the tea. Somen and I used to be roommates twelve years back, but our friendship withstood the test of time. A sip of tea and a goodbye later, we parted ways… Somen was on his way to Guwahati, and we were going to Kashmir.

Firdaus was there at the airport, as promised. Dressed in a brown jacket and a smile, his first words were, “Eid Mubarak, Sir”. He also told us that the situation in Srinagar was slightly tense, and curfew was imposed on some parts on the city following a moderately violent protest over beef ban the previous day. We did encounter some barricades and detours, along with a quite a few army and police men, but we had to leave the city limits as early as we could, just to stay ahead of the Eid prayers. Till yesterday, I had believed that the place was called Sonmarg, only to realize today that it was actually SonAmarg, with an A. The pronunciation, however, is Sonmarg, the A is apparently kept silent. Sonamarg is 100 kilometers away from Srinagar, and it takes three hours to reach to our destination. All along the way, whenever we passed a tiny hamlet, we could see the crowds of men dressed in white gathering up for the Eid prayers. Because everyone prays on Eid, the local mosque falls short of place, and the praying congregation extends itself till the highway. Lucky were we that the flight was on time, we were always just ahead of the prayers.

We had in our mind, shortlisted a hotel, only to realize that it was fourteen kilometers away from Sonamarg. Sonamarg is a tiny hamlet on the Srinagar-Leh highway. Barring the various hotels, Sonamarg has little to offer for itself. As per the 2011 census, less than 400 people stay in Sonamarg during winters, when the hotels are all closed and tourism is suspended. We decided to look out for another hotel in Sonamarg itself, and Firdaus guided us to Hotel Snowland. We were made to wait for a while before getting to our rooms, as the entire staff was away for the prayers. Overlooking the green meadows and mountains on the front, and the Sindh river at the back, the location was great. The river Sindh that flows through Sonamarg is a tributary of Jhelum, and not to be confused with the Indus river that flows through Ladakh before reaching Pakistan. The names brought back the memories of school, when we were made to remember the names of the five rivers of Punjab. Ma also correlated the colloquial names with the Sanskrit names. So, Jhelum (Vitasta) and Ravi (Iravati) join Chenab (Chandrabhaga). Beas (Vipasha) join Sutlej (Satadru), and then Sutlej and Chenab join to form Panchnad, which then merges into Indus.

Firdaus had very kindly waited for us till we got into our rooms, and then he introduced us to his local acquaintance Ijaz before leaving for Srinagar to celebrate Eid with his family. Ijaz promised to take us for sightseeing on the pony. The prime attraction of Sonamarg is the Thajiwas glacier. Bajrangi Bhaijaan has done wonders to tourism in Kashmir, where the shooting locations are now marked as tourist attractions. Thajiwas glacier was the spot where the climax scene of the movie was shot. Though in the movie, the location was named as Narowal, whereas in reality, Narowal is another border town in Punjab, which is not at all mountainous, and definitely not snow-covered as shown in the movie. Traveling and sightseeing in Kashmir is quite expensive as compared to rest of the country, and the reasons are many. First is the lack of other earning avenues in places like Sonamarg, and the entire village relies on tourism to survive. To add to it, the quantum of tourist inflow does not seem sufficient to sustain the economic requirement. And to top it all, the tourist influx, irrespective of the numbers, only continue for six months, which targets for sustenance round the year. As a result of all these, the government rate for a three hour pony ride is fixed at 3000 rupees; the individual owners do agree to give you a ten percent discount.

Our last trip to Kashmir had introduced us to the wonders of Kahwa, the green tea of Kashmir made with spices like saffron, cinnamon and cardamom, and served with almonds and walnuts. We had made it a habit to ask for Kahwa whenever it was available. To our immense happiness, the staff at the Hotel Snowland served us Kahwa as a welcome drink. Meanwhile, Ijaz had politely requested us to proceed for the pony ride as early as we can, as there would be a shortage of tour guides after lunch due to Eid. After a bit of unsuccessful haggling on the price (both of us are extremely poor at it, be it at Sonamarg or Sarojini Nagar), we mounted the ponies. For the city-bred like us, a simple thing like riding a pony seems to be a tall task, and you have to call for support to climb the animal. The locals are all aware of the ways of the tourists, and gladly offer a supporting shoulder to help you be comfortable. The only saving grace is that when you look around, the other tourists behave just as oddly as you, so you do not feel lonely while acting stupid on the horseback. The natural beauty on the way to Sonamarg from Srinagar was truly enriching, and we expected nothing less when we started on the pony towards Thajiwas glacier.

Soniya, a former colleague of mine, had taught me a few good things in the form of English vocabulary. It was she who told me that catwalk is actually the ramp on which the models walk, and should not be confused with the titillating sway that the ladies adopt while walking. She also told me that vertigo is not the fear of heights, and that the correct name for this fear is acrophobia. Vertigo, on the other hand, is a disorder in which people tend to think they are moving when they’re actually not. So now I know that I actually suffer from acrophobia, and I do not appreciate riding a horse on the edge of a cliff. Though Salim, the young happy boy who was our guide through the ride, repeatedly assured us that no horses have ever slipped off the cliff, nor they have managed to shake any rider off, the fear remained. Luckily for me, the terrain was such that through most of the distance, the horse and I were away from the edge. It was only a short while before we reached our destination; a particularly treacherous section of the ride actually forced me to close my eyes. The horses, since quite some time, were showing their reluctance to move ahead. And a few hundred metres before reaching Thajiwas glacier, they actually put their feet down, all eight of them, and refused to move an inch further. Salim was duly embarrassed, but meekly asked us to follow him on foot, while he tied the horses together, hoping that their mood will improve by the time we come back.

Well, the city-bred couple once again proved their physical prowess; huffing and puffing to finish off the five hundred metre trek. To further complicate things, we had to cross the same stream thrice by walking on makeshift bridges made up of tree trunks. And so we reached the glacier. I was a bit disappointed at the look of the glacier; it failed to match the image of glaciers that I had pictured in my mind since childhood. But yes, it was a chunk of slowly melting ice, at the bottom of which started a stream, which, I’m not sure, may turn into a river at a distance. By this time, an old man walked up to us, and tried to convince us to take a sleigh ride with him along with promises of a great adventure. I duly refused; both out of tiredness and skepticism, but my darling wife was in the mood for some thrill. The gentleman helped Somodatta sit on a sleigh, dragged her around for a hundred metres, and then expressed his desire that Madame Santa Claus pay him one hundred and fifty rupees. Not left with a lot of energy to haggle, we promptly gave in, and also asked him to prepare two bowls of Maggi for us in his nearby shack. The Maggi brought back some of the lost energy, and we started on our way back, hoping that the horses would now be willing to carry us to the hotel.

They were ready indeed. The return journey was largely uneventful, with the sole exception that I was white as a sheet when the horses crossed the particularly thin part of track that scared me on the forward journey as well. Salim told us that there is a shorter way to Amarnath from Sonamarg. I had known till then that the only road to Amarnath was through Chandanwadi near Pahalgam, but apparently there is a shorter route from Baltal. Baltal is a small village, at a distance of fifteen kilometres from Sonamarg. While the route from Chandanwadi takes two days for the round trip, the journey from Baltal and back only takes around fourteen hours on horseback. But what was scary and he pointedly looked at me while saying this, was the kind of tracks that the horses walk upon. I, according to him am getting scared at these little heights for no reason. I had once wanted to go on the Amarnath Yatra, but later on decided against it in the views of repeated threats of terror attacks. Now, after Salim’s revelation on the nature of the journey, I completely dissociated myself on any further plans of the holy pilgrimage. Sometime later, the horses safely ported us to the hotel front. We were indeed grateful to Salim that he took us on the sightseeing on the Eid day.

Before leaving for the horse ride, we had ordered our lunch at the hotel, asking it to be delivered at 3 PM or whenever we are back. Quite hungry and tired as we were, we asked for the food, and it was promptly delivered to our room. Our experiences with hotels in Kashmir tell us that the people are extremely warm and hospitable, and that the food portions are abnormally large. Shamefully, we could not finish the entire spread. After the heavy lunch, we were too full to move around and retired to our beds for an untimely siesta. Somodatta had foreseen the lack of activity in the evenings, and had intelligently packed her laptop and a few movies. That evening, we watched Ganashatru, a movie by Satyajit Ray. The third thing that we knew about hotels in Kashmir was that dinner was served before 9 PM. Before leaving for Srinagar, Firdaus had asked us to be ready to leave by half past nine next morning, so that we could reach Kargil by late afternoon. The first day of the trip had been a happy one, and we went to bed looking forward to Day Two to Kargil. Parents were quite unimpressed at our selection of a war site as a holiday destination. We will share our Kargil story as well, very soon.

Till then, take good care of yourself and your loved ones.