Kashmir was a far-off dream for many years as we always feared sudden outbreaks of violence. Two years ago, my husband said “Should we visit Kashmir?”. I said, ‘ Let’s visit Leh, a little away from Kashmir.’ Then, after visiting Leh and Ladakh that year, my thoughts turned to Kashmir. After the abrogation of Article 370, we heard Kashmir tours were safer.
We took the 2.05 pm direct flight from Mumbai to Srinagar. The flight was a bit late and we landed at 5 pm at Sheikh Ul Alam International Airport in Srinagar. The airport was a small one and the security was tight. We stepped out to be greeted by sunny greenery and pleasant winds. We were led to a traveller and there were ten of us in it. The roads widened and we crossed places like the Laal Chowk and crowded locales. There was progress visible but we felt the city was crowded with tourists. We could now see a large lake near the road. There were small boats filled with tourists at numerous harbour spots called the ghats. Each of the Ghats was overcrowded but Ghat 13 was reserved for us. The Shikara boat owners came running and a maximum of three people could climb in one boat. We had to step into the dancing Shikaraboat before the boat owner. Our luggage was loaded on a narrow flat segment of the rear with the boatman and we sat on the beautiful cushioned central section which was wide open and led to a narrow end. The lake wasn’t deep but was turning darker under the evening sky….
The beautiful Shikara found its way among the numerous other Shikara boats that dotted the large lake with a bit of rowing. The boatmen were conversing in Kashmiri language as they rowed talking to each other. We peered through the curtains to see our boatman dressed in a dark brown Pathan suit. His hair was dyed in henna and was bright reddish. His skin seemed tanned with the long work hours in the hot mountain sun.
A tiny flat boat with two men rushed past us and the man yelled, ‘KHAWA KHAWA…Drink a cup of Khawa tea’. Smoke was coming out of a pot in the boat, but it was to emit an aroma. A flask held the actual tea. The vendor poured out glasses of pink Khawa tea, sweetened with honey and rose petals. The boatman charged us Rs 50 per tea but we needed to pay them in cash. They said we could pay digitally but weren’t carrying their phone. We found many more vendors selling barbequed vegetables and corn; it was a whole world in the lake. The boatman drove us near and far, through narrow streams, large waterbodies, the marshes and the floating garden called ‘Raad’ It was a beautiful sight and we enjoyed the ride. The boatman took us close to the shops on the narrow streets near the lake for shopping. We were well aware of these. Many stopped at these shops and purchased clothes and artefacts.
The boatman said, ‘Do you want another hour’s ride here?
We said, ‘Please drop us at the houseboat’.
We were dropped at the boathouse named ‘New Pride of Kashmir’. The boathouse had a small lawn and wooden steps that led to a boathouse. As we climbed the steps we could feel the boathouse move a bit.
I asked the boatowner,’ How is this boathouse steady’
He said, ‘There are two boathouses tethered together, that makes it steady’
How deep is the water here?
He said, ‘Around 10 to 12 meters but during the rains the lake fills up and rises to 20 meters’
I looked at him, and he added, ‘The boathouse rises upwards but remains steady’.
The boathouse was exquisite. It had a beautiful sit-out from where we could see the other dazzling houseboats, each elegantly lit. The lake had a few late-night riders and the shore was glistening with street lights.
The boathouse owner led us into a drawing room that was carpeted and seemed huge. It had a chandelier, Mughal artefacts and well-decorated sofa sets. The drawing room led to a spacious dining hall decorated well and a modular kitchen. It then led to three bedrooms with attached washrooms. Everything was beautiful, it was well-lit but musty. Due to the quick schedules, spring cleaning and drying the rooms seemed impossible. The food was served in the dining hall, the boatowner kept saying, ‘It is a homely meal’.
However, I wouldn’t say it was homely, the next day there were many complaints from the tourists about the food and stay in their houseboats.
The next morning, we were up early and were greeted by the tourists in the neighbouring boathouse. They were from North India. A Kashmiri vendor came in a boat with the same peculiar smoke to deliver Khawa Tea to the boathouses. We sat in the sit-out watching the early morning. We were captivated by the sight of the lake, the greenery and the Shikaraboat rides unfolding before us. After a quick breakfast in the dining hall, we were ready to begin another day of adventure. The Shikara boats lined up near the boathouses and we slowly transferred our luggage into the Shikara. We stepped into the dancing boat once again to move to the Ghat 13, we turned to have one last glance at the boathouse we lived in, it looked serene as we passed.
That day, we were led to a more spacious traveller to the Mughal garden. The garden was on various levels. We had to climb the rocky stairs to each each terrain. The garden was located at the foothills of the mountains and was supplied by springs of water. The gardens were lined by roses and had huge trees between the lake and the hills. The lake contributes to the Dal Lake and the exotic plants grown like the Persian paradise gardens around the central water channel.
That day, we were approached by a few local youngsters who invited us to experience dressing up in traditional Kashmiri attire and get our photographs taken. They led us to a garden on the opposite end where numerous vibrant Kashmiri kurtis were displayed. We chose our favourites and the friendly young lad assisted us with the headgear and jewellery. The whole dressing up process took 3 minutes, and we were guided to the photography area. We paid 250 rupees per copy of the photograph, and the experience added a delightful cultural touch to our Kashmir diary. The young boys guided us towards the exit after the photography session and informed us that the photographs were available for collection at Nishat Photographers, a shop near the entrance. In our haste, we hurried back to the shop to collect our photograph. When we reached there we found the shop bustling with numerous customers, each trying to identify their photograph. We were sunburnt and desperately seeking a bit of shade when we stumbled upon a roadside shop with a large umbrella. The vendor greeted us enthusiastically, offering a variety of momos — veg, chicken, and meat, in a melodic and rapid chant. We could buy mineral water bottles and continue our travel in the traveller again. We were on our way to Pahalgaon a hill station. The travel distance was quite long, and we eventually stopped at Hotel Meerz on the other side of Srinagar for a delicious lunch.
I wasn’t feeling well, but the young steward at the hotel was very kind. Whenever I called for help, he would place his hand over his heart and gesture, ‘I am here, don’t worry.’ I appreciated his warm smile, respectful gestures, and the care he showed towards us.
This was where we had the opportunity to meet and chat with other tourists in our travel group. The tour coordinator also provided us with important instructions for the next leg of our journey. We slowly started to become friendlier with one another. Soon enough, it was time to continue to Pahalgaon, and we were all looking forward to the next part of our adventure.
Travel opens windows to a rich and diverse world, which you can never see from your homeland― Mouloud Benzadi
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