This is a story about reality and nature, as gifted by God, and as created by man. A story about the contrasting lives of people. About some of the most wonderful set pieces that nature has on offer, to some of the deadliest battle-fields in the world. This is a story about a paradise, the lost paradise, Kashmir.
As a child I remember my mother describing Kashmir to me as the only true paradise on earth. One where, she would say, we would never get a chance to visit anymore. It was the lost paradise. And this held true for many years for me, until work duties called on us to visit couple of Army installations in Udhampur (north of Jammu) and Leh (Ladakh). It was in early August, 2007. There were four of us – Keshava, Gaurav, Karan and myself. We were already based in Delhi for more than a month, taking its sweltering heat, and pain-staking traffic. The initial plan was something like Delhi to Udhampur, and back to Delhi, and the same for Leh. Then Keshava came up with a bright idea – Why not take a road trip from Udhampur to Leh? This is probably the only chance to explore Kashmir in a way that ordinary tourists would seldom do. For him, it was a great opportunity to pamper his photography desires. For me, it was challenging the adage of the lost paradise. Once cost implications worked out in favour of this road trip, Karan Rao was set to decide on the logistics aspects of it.
It looked like a task at hand, but made easy by Karan Rao, given his defense background and earlier travel in Kashmir. There are two roads that can be taken to Leh, one is from Jammu via the Zojilla Pass, and the other is from Himachal via the Rohtang pass. We didn’t have much option but to take the Zojilla pass route, as we were already in Udhampur. This road is closed for 7 months in a year due to snow. But we learnt this was the best time to travel, provided there is no excessive rain, and thus chances of landslides which were very common. There was pressure to reach Leh in 3 days time as meetings were scheduled with customer the next day. A single landslide could have upset this plan. Then there was always the threat of terrorist attacks. We looked at each other and knew instantly that we are going ahead with this. Thus came the itinerary. On the first day, we would halt at Srinagar, at Kargil on the second day, and reach Leh on the third day. Advice started pouring in from multiple quarters. Customers like Col Sirohi, who was the most unlikely to, started providing tips. He animatedly described the beauty that we were about to experience on our way. He also spoke about the health hazards one is likely to face in Leh. Given Leh’s height (more than 10,000 feet), it becomes difficult to breathe, or do much physical exercise. One looses appetite, has digestion problems, gets nausea, and suffers from headache. Army officers posted there are sent to an acclimatization camp for a week. But we couldn’t afford that luxury. Thus we were advised to consume lot of water at short intervals, and take a small pill that would keep us going. This pill was a norm there, and would be available with anyone right from the Airport to the Army camps. Then said another Colonel that hire only a Qualis or a Tavera, as fancy luxury cars won’t be able to take the roughness of the terrain. Then told someone that do not disclose we are here for Army work as this might lead to security concerns (Terrorists generally attack Army people and leave civilians alone). We were advised to act and behave as normal tourists. Keshava’s camera would come handy in this one would imagine. But then, I thought, how many normal tourists would visit where we were about to, and that too by road. At this point we were issued a letter by Army HQ mentioning our names and why we were in Kashmir. It was for the eventuality of any security concerns being raised. This clearly indicated to me that what we were about to do would never be done by a so called normal tourist. Only about 64,000 Indian tourists and 800 foreign tourists (Courtesy: The Tribune) have visited the Kashmir valley this year. Majority of these Indian tourists are for the holy Amarnath yatra. Are we still discussing about a paradise, one that has been finely sculpted by God himself.
“If there is at all a paradise of earth, it is here in Kashmir” – anonymous poetQuick research on the net showed that though we need not pack ourselves with warmers, we would certainly need a jacket, and sweater at few places. Drass and Kargil in particular were expected to be chilly. After all we were going to touch a height of more than 13,000 feet, the highest road in the world. The day finally came for the road trip to start. A shining red Qualis halted at the gates of our Transit Camp in Udhampur, the place where we were staying. It was 6 in the morning, and military men had already started their activities. For me it was fascinating to see Army from so close, only of which I had read or seen as movies pictured. I knew I was going to see more of them, but there was a strange feeling leaving that place. We quickly loaded our bags, and Keshava captured the front seat claiming he is the PM and so deserves to sit there. We didn’t protest. Our driver Mohinder was a native of Udhampur, and had traveled on this route at least 20 times before, transporting Army officers and the like. He was one of the talkative lot, and claimed that the terrain we are going to traverse is the most beautiful we would have ever seen, but equally dangerous in terms of road construction.
Mighty terrain of mighty HimalayasKeshava didn’t seem bothered with this talk; he was already on job taking pictures from the window of the moving car. He seemed to be doing this non-stop, but couldn’t be blamed. View down the mountains looked breath-taking, and Mohinder exclaimed that this was just the start; we are not even in Kashmir valley as of now. I immediately realized that Keshava would need lot of film rolls, and I would have lots to write about. By the way, for disclaimer purpose, I am not a natural writer and have been made to write this article by Keshava, citing Appraisal threats. He fancies using the appraisal card a little too often, but something that we don’t mind.
It got a little colder when we reached Patnitop at 9 AM. A popular hill station in J&K, it is at a height of around 6,000 feet. We halted for breakfast here. An apple tree filled with green apples, and a walnut tree greeted us in the garden of the hotel. The view from the restaurant window was a canopy of Deodhar trees. I was getting a feeling that I have already seen a lot, similar to a glass getting filled with fizz when a drink poured, only to realize that the fizz would settle down quickly, and there would be a lot more to take in.
A canopy of Deodhar trees at Patnitop hill stationWe were stopping at endless places for taking pictures, one prominent one being at the Baglimar dam on the river Chenab. Rivers here are perennial in nature, and seldom dry. As we continued our journey further into mainland Kashmir, we started getting more and more glimpses of how it has come to be known to us. Soldiers started lining up the highway with their automated weapons at a very short frequency. Some even hoisted with their weapons ready to shoot at the slightest adventure. I wondered what would be going through that Jawan’s mind, sitting all alone throughout the day, with his gun hoisted, waiting for someone to attack him. I decided to park this thought aside and concentrate elsewhere, something we most conveniently do. Road now got narrower and a little dangerous. Karan Rao announced that he could see two trucks deep down the mountains crashed. This got Mohinder excited. He told us that if there are any accidents here, the only place to go is there where these trucks were. He also said that this is the stretch, from here to Srinagar, which is the most terror prone. Terrorists can attack here anytime, thus the battery of soldiers. Pakistani terrorists come in the night and place mines on the road, he said. Couple of months back an Army vehicle had been bombed like this only. Though disturbed, we seemed to be least threatened. Life was moving very normally. There were numerous trucks carrying goods and rations to Leh. This is the time when excessive supplies go to Leh, to stock it in advance, as the road would get closed during winter. The distance between Udhampur to Srinagar is hardly more than 200 kms, but it would take more than 6 hours to reach. This is mainly because of the difficult terrain, and partly because of the extensive stops that Keshava would make us do for his love of photography. Keeping humour aside, this made me appreciate, coming from a logistics background, the difficulties of movement and storage. There is this might of the Himalayas, then the extremely unfriendly weather (can reach -30 Degrees), and our adventurous neighbor. An estimated 5 crores rupees is spent every single day by the Indian Army to maintain a single post at Siachen.
Then came the great Jawahar Tunnel. This is 3 kms in length, and is the longest tunnel in India. Security was at its peak here, as this is strategic to the road travel. A single bombing here can stall all the movement. Unfortunately we cannot take pictures at any of the Army installations, or wherever they are posted. This is due to security reasons, repercussions of which we discovered later. The end of the tunnel was the beginning of Kashmir valley. The first sign read – “Welcome to Kashmir valley. Neighbour’s envy, Owner’s pride”. We stopped our car for some photos of the gorgeous first view of the valley. It started drizzling with the brightest sun I have seen. For me, this was the first sight of a flowing river, large mountains, and green vegetation.
Kashmir valley, oh so beautifulTaken by this beauty we completely forgot about our lunch. It was around 4 PM, and Mohinder informed that it is not worth stopping now, as we would be reaching Srinagar in the next half an hour. He asked us instead to look left at the endless Saffron fields, the best quality in the world. He then immediately asked us to look right at the countless shops hanging cricket bats made from the famous Kashmir willow. This to some extent sums up the adventure of this trip, to continuously look left and right, to not miss anything. But it’s only so much beauty one can take and appreciate, especially for someone like me, who has always stayed in Bombay, where the idea of nature is an over-crowded park, or a filthy beach.
We reached Srinagar and checked into a houseboat on the Dal Lake. It was always a cherished fascination for me. The name of our’s was “Neil Armstrong” after the famous astronaut. The care-taker was Rashid, and stayed towards the rear end of the boat. The boat had a nice verandah, with a small floating garden, and a stream of lotuses. It opened into a living room, clad with famous Kashmiri carpets, carved furniture, and lots of testimonials from delighted customers, and one from the secretary of Neil Armstrong. It had a nice dining room, with a strange display of cutlery, as if to say that these are the finest ones. It had 4 bed-rooms, each richly equipped with furniture, and modern bathrooms. But what struck us was the courtesy that these people are known for. He immediately offered us lunch, even though it was 5 in the evening.
The glorious Dal Lake has many stories to tellA shikara ride across the Dal Lake in the evening, and talking to local people, made us realize few things which we can never think of sitting in our ivory offices. They are extremely angry with the army. They think that since the army has come, they have lost their livelihood. Economy has suffered a lot, and tourists have stopped visiting. What they are concerned about is that there are no jobs, and their brothers are leaving this blessed land of theirs and going to cities to earn.
We left Srinagar at 9 AM the second day for Kargil. Our first stop was at Sonamarg, another popular hill station in the Kashmir Valley. It was continuously drizzling and had become very cold. We were all clad in our leather jackets and sweaters. Snow capped mountains could be seen on the top. Ponies were available to take us to the glacier. There were other winter sports there, but hardly any tourists. We parked in a restaurant for lunch, as Mohinder said that we wont get food anywhere now till Kargil. We treated ourselves to some nice Kashmiri pulao, and hot Kawa. Kawa is a popular Kashmiri drink made from kesar, badam, and elaichi.
Sonamarg: Where clouds bow down to kiss the earthThe ascend from Sonamarg further up the Himalayas was a stretch of 30 kms, which was a One-way road. This is because of the narrowness of the road, and extremely dangerous mountains. It is difficult to put feelings into words, but this was the most difficult road I have traveled on. The road was narrow, outside tires of our vehicle were almost at the edge of the mountain, and the depth, well just few thousand feet. On this stretch is the famous Zojilla pass, extremely strategic for the army. This is the highest mountain pass in the world, with the height of 11,649 feet. A single way traffic and difficult terrain didn’t refrain us from stopping for photographs. And well, who would not want to be photographed at this point. Who knows if we ever get to return here.
River Chenab passes through Zojilla pass and flows to PakistanRivers were continuously lining the highway all along, be it the Sindhu, or the Indus. Some were originating from Pakistan, coming to India, and again flowing back to Pakistan. No borders would dare stop the flow of these. The water was extremely clear, and cold. After a while we reached Drass. It is one of the coldest places in the world. I don’t think anyone needed to tell us that. This is where Kashmir region ends, and Ladakh starts. To my surprise, I discovered that Drass is part of Kargil district, which is part of Ladakh, and not Kashmir per se.
Vijay Path: The path of victory that stands testimony to the great war of Kargil, and to its martyrs. Extremely proud to be an Indian.It was in Drass where Operation Vijay war was fought, and not Kargil town. We visited the Op Vijay memorial, overlooking the famous Tiger Hill, at Drass. Visibly excited army men offered us tea (we needed some), and explained the entire operation of capture of these peaks. This memorial stands testimonial to the valiant efforts of our soldiers, with more than 1000 names engraved on its walls. These 1,000 soldiers who died during Op Vijay instantly became our heroes. We couldn’t help but really salute them. We were at a height of 10,000 feet, and Tiger Hills is further 4,000 feet high. Explained the soldier there that once you start climbing, due to extreme cold, you feel dizzy and get headaches. Moreover, with Pakistanis hoisted on top of the hill, it was easy prey for them to shoot Indian soldiers who had no cover. Not worrying about the enemies bullets, they continued their climb. Bofors guns hoisted on the opposite mountain, the other side of Srinagar-Leh highway turned out to be the deciding factor in the end. After 2 months of fierce battle, one of the most intense artillery battles fought since World War II, India successfully celebrated Vijay Divas on 26th July, 1999. I saluted the soldier, shook his hands and we left from there. I didn’t know whether we should be proud of the victory that took place 8 years back, or worry about present conditions. Can this state, which I now had no doubt is a true wonderland, be ever made into a world class tourist destination.
A little ahead was the Mushkoh Nala, other side of which is the LOC. We stopped to take pictures. Here we interacted with Gulbadan. A 7 year old boy, who was wandering along the highway. He stayed in the mountains with his parents and 2 siblings. His father was a local farmer, and supplied rations to the armed forces. He is someone who is born with seeing the armed forces around him all the time, and so is quite normal with this fact. He has never seen a world without them. He goes to school, and mentioned his favourite subject was Urdu. I took multiple pictures of his.
We then reached Kargil at around 6 in the evening. We checked into a hotel, and began to explore the town. We could immediately feel getting tired after walking for sometime. It was cold too. The people here are a mix of Kashmiris, Ladakhis and Nepalis. The tourists were pre-dominantly foreigners, and there were quite a few of them. An early sleep is what the PM ordered, so that we can start early the next day.
It was the third day. Two days on the road felt like two weeks. We had seen so much, visited so many places, and of contrasting nature. We left Kargil at 8 in the morning. A little ahead was Pushkum village, where we saw an SBI branch, the only sign of any commercial activity. We were now entering mainland Ladakh. Our first stop was at a Buddhist shrine called “He Gon Mulbekh Chamba”, meaning the Statue of Chamba. It was a huge 20 feet stone statue.
We continued our journey. Various rivers were flowing non-stop along the highway. The mountains looked beautiful. This was now a stretch of barren mountains, but they still looked breathtaking. They were of different colors and textures, some red, and some blue, some of hard rock, some of loose sand. BRO (Borders Road Organization) has done a great job in cutting road between this great Himalayas. And work is going non-stop to improve these roads.
Can one fall in love with barren mountains?All this beauty meant that Keshava was very trigger happy, trigger of his esteemed camera. By now, even though not being a great photography enthusiast, I started picking up few tricks. I got to know terms like Wide Angle, 50 MM shot, etc., that Keshava made sure I understand. He even allowed me to click a few from his camera. He was living a photographers dream. So much so that Mohinder at one point got irritated by our continuous stops. Even at places where the road was narrow and it looked difficult to halt, we would demand that from him, and he would stop the car at the extreme edge of the mountain. So much for the love of photography. It was as if this land was carved for photography, and dished out to us in a platter.
Between all this we reached at a point which is the highest road in the world at a height of 13,400 odd feet. It was extremely chilly and windy here. We then reached a point which was a confluence of two rivers. One of them was flowing from Pakistan, and the water was greenish-blue in color. The other was flowing from India, and the water was brownish. I had not seen before such a site of nature, of two such contrasting colors of water. These rivers joined, and flew back to Pakistan.
The color of waterWe next stopped at a farm on the highway. The beauty of this place was the contrast in terms of the green vegetation, barren mountains, and a superb blue sky, laced with cotton like white clouds. We spoke to the lady who owned that land. She was a Ladhaki, and to our surprise spoke excellent Hindi. Surprises didn’t seem to end. We met an Italian couple cycling on their sports bikes, Allesandro and Daniella. They planned to reach Srinagar on their bikes, and had come all the way from Chandigarh, through the Rohtang pass. Now this is adventure I thought. The next town was called Lamayaru, meaning the land of the Lamas. It is famous for its moonland like terrain. Yes, the land on the mountains is very similar to the one on the moon, at least that is what everyone their claims. I don’t know if any geological scientist has vetted this, but I didn’t care, it was simply fascinating. A thought ran across my mind at this point. Doesn’t India have everything? The next town was called Nimmo, which is only a few kilometers away from Leh. Commercial establishments like restaurant owners and other shop owners come here during these months from as far as Nepal, and return back during the winter season. Lot of farming is done here and supplied to Leh during winter season when the supplies from the rest of the country are cut.
The last stop before Leh was a place called the Magnetic Hills. From the edges of high mountains, we suddenly entered into an endless plateau like area, covered from all sides with mountains. A board read that leave your car in neutral gear and watch it make the climb up automatically. This happens because of the magnetic effect of the mountains. We didn’t believe until we saw it happening. An entire Qualis was getting pulled un-powered. I shot a video to make people living in mere mortal worlds believe. We finally reached the Army camps in Leh, Ladakh.
The over-empowering force of natureI have tried best to capture my feelings and experiences. But it’s really the limitation of language, and my ability, which can never truly describe what we have discovered in these 3 days. Probably some of the pictures and videos would. There are also a lot more of stories to tell about Leh, and other places, which we can leave for some other time. For the time being, I am leaving you to wonder about this magic land called Kashmir.
***********
NOTES
Jammu and Kashmir is the northern-most state of India bordering Pakistan on west, and China on north and east. It has now long been an area of insurgency and militancy, distant from its early days of being the favorite tourist destination in India. It is one of the richest lands within India in terms of its habitat, spices, natural resources, and what not.
Inputs for this article have been provided by MindTree colleagues Keshava Setlur, Karan Rao, and Gaurav Sharma; with pictures courtesy being extended to Keshava.
(From L to R): Keshava Setlur, Gaurav Sharma, Karan Rao, and Kushagra Mithal
