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Kashmir: The Timeless Wonder

Ruchira walks down the memory lane and takes us on a tour of beautiful Kashmir. An exclusive for Different Truths.

  Gar firdous bar rue zaminasto
Hami asto hamin asto hamin asto

[If there is a paradise on earth, it is here (3)]

The fourth great Mughal emperor Jehangir is believed to have exclaimed spontaneously upon visiting Kashmir for the first time, during his reign, way back in the 17th century. He couldn’t have been more appropriate!

Kashmir is sheer paradise; enigmatic, breathtakingly beautiful. One needs ample time and the right frame of mind to drink in its celestial beauty.

Indeed, Kashmir is sheer paradise; enigmatic, breathtakingly beautiful. One needs ample time and the right frame of mind to drink in its celestial beauty. However, it is all too well known, that the hinterland of the valley – which lies off the familiar tourist circuit – retains its unalloyed pristine beauty. No wonder that those valiant youths who fought the Kargil battle were mesmerised by what they beheld around them; a few of them managing to send graphic descriptions of the panoramic views – via letters – to their loved ones at home.

To come back to the brass tacks, I was still a gawky teenager, barely out of school, when I got an opportunity to visit the wondrous valley. From Ludhiana, where we then lived, we took the Jammu Tawi Express and in about four hours’ time reached Jammu, the bustling commercial capital of the state. We were hosted by some acquaintances, who took good care of us in our home environs. There is nothing much to do in Jammu other than paying a visit to the renowned Sri Raghunathji temple and browsing through the crowded bazaars bursting at their seams with goods of all kinds. The following day, we took the short flight to Srinagar. Here too we checked into the family home of some remotely connected friends.

Hemmed in by lofty snow-capped mountains and placid lakes, the city, enchanting and truly lives up to it name…

Image by Divya Agrawal from Pixabay

Hemmed in by lofty snow-capped mountains and placid lakes, the city, enchanting and truly lives up to its name (sri= beauty nagar =city). The mandatory shikhara ride on the sprawling, limpid DalLakefollowed by a visit to a resplendent, magnificent houseboat moored in another part of the lake thrilled us a good deal. The lovely verdant gardens of the city viz., Shalimar, Nishat, and Chasmeshahi are the ultimate in urban landscaping, layout, and designing. There are similar Mughal-style gardens in other parts of the country as well, but the trio certainly takes the cake. Watching the shadows of the evening lengthening on the rippling waters of the lake nearly sent us into a trance. Our next destination was Gulmarg(path of flowers). Since we were there in April, there was a profusion of pretty blossoms everywhere.  However, we missed out on the winter sports and related activities for which the place is globally famous. A ride on the chairlift (they have since been replaced by cable cars) offering a breathtaking view of the undulating pastoral landscape turned out to be a memorable one. Next on our itinerary was Pahalgam. Those days, during the early ’80s, Pahalgam used to be sparsely populated, hence its scenic beauty was pristine, unravaged.

The tourists are advised to take pony rides to meadows and dales nearby. From slightly elevated points, you may catch a scintillating glimpse of the valley, the vivacious Lidder River flowing amidst rows and rows of hills interspersed with forest glades. In a lighter vein, during our excursion, mommy nearly fell off her pony and managed to hurt her ankle. Though it was nothing serious, it stayed in her mind forever. Many, many years later, whenever anyone happened to mention Kashmir, she would relive the mishap.

Interestingly, during our return journey to Jammu, we had opted for (as suggested by a travel veteran) a twelve-hour long bus journey. It was albeit grueling, but it afforded us minute intensive glimpses of the picturesque valley upon which Mother Nature has lavished her bounties. I am tempted to conclude with Wordsworth’s oft-quoted lines that would be apt here:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

Visuals by Different Truths

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Ruchira Adhikari Ghosh
Born in Guwahati Assam, Ruchira grew up in Delhi and Punjab. A product of Sacred Heart Convent, Ludhiana, she holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from Punjab University, Chandigarh. Armed with a P.G diploma in journalism in Journalism, she has been a pen-pusher for nearly 25 years. Her chequered career encompasses print, web, as well as television. She has metamorphosed as a feature writer, her forte being women’s issues, food, travel and literature.

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