Here to Paradise – It’s Here on Earth

12/12/2023

From Here to Paradise – It's Here on Earth!!!!

Hector Dsouza

The 20-hour journey from Leh to Srinagar was eventful in more ways than one! Many including his friend didn't know the duration & route the bus would take. Earlier, he planned on breaking journey at the half way stop, Kargil. On entering the bus and speaking to fellow passengers he concluded it would be wiser, convenient & less expensive if he traveled directly to Srinagar, even if it meant sleeping for five hours on a stationery state transport bus, where `comfort & luxury' are replaced by the words `safety' and `reliability'. Off theydrove past the now familiar stark, barren landscape of Ladakh glowing in the afternoon sun. They drove by the Magnetic Hill teeming with local tourists and Gurudwara Pathar Sahib – Sikh pilgrim spot. The highlight was driving on the Fatu-La Pass with its serpentine roads until they reached Lamayaru where the landscape itself is full of craters, resembling the surface of the moon. `Magically Surreal' are the only words to describe the unrealistic beauty when traveling over Fatu-La &Namki-La passes. The rays of the setting sun adding to the splendor. They arrived at a non-descript town for a well deserved biscuit-tea break (He normally settled for biscuits & a hot beverage, tea or coffee, while traveling).

Except for the occasional passing truck with headlights glaring, the night drive on treacherous mountain roads was safe as traffic was light. They arrived a little before Kargil for dinner where the entire bus stepped into an eatery serving noodles & rajma with rotis. Going

by the number of diners he gauged all were ravenously hungry! The bus was stopped at the entry point to Kargil and asked to take the bypass road asKargil was shut; it being Muharram. Huge processions blocked most of the roads in Shia Muslim dominated Kargil. As the bus took a circuitous route, he looked in wonder at thousands of glowing lights of Kargil Town, which was very much awake! The bus ground to a halt at Drass, the second coldest place on Planet Earth at 11.30. Tired to the core, the driver stepped out to light yet another cigarette. They would stop at the makeshift stop for four –five hours, this would be their resting spot for the night. Quite used to sleeping on uncomfortable beds, he did some conscious deep breathing, falling asleep soon after on his daypack! They headed for Zozi-La pass at 4.00 am, arriving an hour later. The check point was opened by the soldier on duty, theysuccessfully crossed the browns of Ladakh & were soon stepping into the greens of a verdant state, Kashmir.

It being the season of the Amarnath Yatra, security was tight everywhere. Armored vans, soldiers with guns &helmets were visible everywhere as they climbed over rough terrain in the green mountains, yet again. Hundreds of pilgrims, tents & vehicles were visible in the valley of Sonmarg down below. To his good fortune, no convoy of pilgrims crossed their path, resulting in a speedy entry into Srinagar where rice fields green, greeted us. This was followed by an enchanting opening view of the Dal Lake stretching for kilometers against a blue sky, that would forever remain carved in memory. Gate No 3 at Dal Lake is where he stepped out, the houseboat on the other side of the Lake would be `home' for the next few days. The five bedroom houseboat was glorious. He had arrived, this couplet popped up in his mind.

Agar Firdaus bar rōy-e zaminast,haminast-o haminast-o haminast. – Orti Shirazi. Translated it means - If there is a paradise on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here.

He was in a hurry to explore a very inviting Srinagar; he hailed a passing cab with seven locals huddled into a Tata Sumo & took the 30-minute ride to Shalimar Bagh, the last stop for regular taxis on the Dal Lake stretch. He had fond memories from his previous visit of this Mughal Garden built by Emperor Jehangir in 1619, enlarged by Emperor Shah Jehan 1630 & electrified by Maharaja Hari Singh. It's origin though could be traced to 6th Century AD where a villa was believed to be built by PravarassenaII and considered to be a sacred site. The taxi ride was enthralling as it skirted the Dal Lake for 15 minutes; endless stretch of placid blue waters on one side, to his right a mountain of green all well laid out. He spotted no shabbiness; on the contrary it was the meticulousness, crisp mountain air, clear skies, studioussilence, which captured his attention.

He heard the `Crown of Srinagar` was being renovated and didn't hold much expectations. The entrance hall had scaffolding all around; undeterred he moved to the next terrace. Aspen trees provided him company, at the other end giant Chinar Trees almost reached for the skies. In between were well manicured green lawns, with a dried canal bisecting the garden. Sweepers gently picked up fallen leaves, putting them into a basket. At the extreme end lay the Zabarwan Mountains. Refreshed he ambled across to the next terrace containing the Black Pavilion, also known as Diwan-i-Khas (hall of private audience) and surrounded by small water fountains. In fact each terraced edge offered something unique: pools, cascades or pavilions.

The sound of a flute being played caught his attention; he located the flutist sitting under an arched doorway; in fact, there were several arched doorways on all sides of the pavilion but only one musician! He listened in rapt silence as the mellifluous tune `filled' the complete hall. Visitors were mesmerized, he imagined: coupled with the sound of rippling waters flowing from channels that bisected the park into four quadrilateral gardens, in former times it would all be surreal! It was the sight of the never ending stretch of Chinar Trees that captured his gaze during the walk back down to the park entrance. He couldn't but marvel at the manner in which sites for the Mughal Gardens were chosen; at the lower end of the mountain valley, sloping downwards where there was a water source or spring that would pass through the garden, symmetrically dividing it, but leaving the Chinar & Sycamore trees untouched. At the other end was the serene lake into which the water was finally discharged. Architecture was modest, always blending with the surrounding; the masterpiece was letting Nature take charge!! He shook his head in disbelief, moving to the next sight – the Hazratbal Mosque located on the northern bank of the Dal Lake.

He missed out seeing this site revered by Muslims on his previous visit believed to contain the hair strand of Prophet Mohammed. On this occasion he went. The complex was huge, the outer walls all painted in white. He entered the gate where an assembly or prayer hall with a huge white marble dome and a tall minaret greeted him. He inquired at the entrance whether he could enter the prayer hall; only a head cover was needed, he was politely informed. He paid his respects in a crowded hall, where everyone bowed down in reverence& moved out into mid-day sunshine. There was security all around to prevent an unlawful incident.He walked towards the bank of the Dal Lake, where motor boats ferried pilgrims to a distant bank. Save for the pilgrim who dipped his feet into the waters there was not a soul around, the water birds we havinga field day. On his way out, he spotted two locals whom he thought to be Drokpas, an ancient Aryan tribe. In fact, Kashmiris are believed to be descendants of one of the lost tribes of Israel who were exiled in 722 B.C.Drokpasin particular live in a village Dha, quite close to Kargil. He hailed a passing taxi and returned to the houseboat.

Life revolves around the Dal Lake, with many travelers choosing to spend at least a night. He learned that since the British were not allowed to own land in Kashmir, they chose to build houseboats and anchor them permanently. When it became intolerant in the plains during summer months, they found succor & relief in Kashmir. Unbelievably, Emperor Jehangir visited Kashmir 19

times in the 16th century, so infectious was his love for the place. Imagine moving man, horse and provisions up a treacherous mountain path each summer. When the British quit India, they left them behind. Houseboat making soon became a craft and many of the houseboats seen today are from the British era as well as newly built. He surveyed the lake, so much had changed. The lake for sure had become narrower and crowded. Though there were plenty of efforts to keep the lake clean, water hyacinth could be seen in the areas around the houseboats, greatly affecting the water eco-system.

Saddened he boarded the shikara for three minute boat ride to the houseboat with five bedrooms, as many restrooms, a large drawing room with finely woven carpets and intricately carved wooden architecture. Finally, the sit-out from where one watched all the happenings on the lake as well as beyond on Boulevard Road. The houseboat

proffered all the luxuries of a three star hotel; clean, comfortable with running hot and cold water. Dinner was basic yet sumptuous – generous offerings of flavored mutton curry, rotis, rice, vegetable. Now in his late sixties Bashir the houseboat owner was satisfied with his achievements, he owned a few more houseboats, tourist footfall was excellent; there was nothing to complain about. Bashir's soon was soon to be married, there was nothing but excitement, joy and hope in Bashir's eye!

The incessant crowing of a rooster woke him up early next morning; this would be same ritual for the next three days. In this part of the world there was no need of an alarm cell-phone. Without too much of a fuss he headed towards the popular 17th century Nishat Bagh – Garden of Joy, yet another symmetrical masterpiece overlooking the majestic Dal Lake, bordered by Zabarwan at the other. Complete with twelve terraces, cascading waterfalls, water canals, fountains, labyrinth of flowering plants and the huge chinars. He noticed there were quadrangles of manicured lawns on each level, signifying the garden was made in the Char Chahar style and one of the finest gardens in India. Measuring 117 acres, with twelve terraces signifying the signs of the zodiac along its length, and seven linear sections along the width, the NIshat Bagh was much bigger than the Shalimar Gardens, but with fewer pavilions than the later. He thought of the Brindavan Gardens in Mysore as a comparison, which he visited as a child. The natural beauty of Nishat was more engaging, encompassing, and rarer. Where does one find towering mountains cheek-in-jowl with a terraced garden and an endearing lake skirting it at other end? Not forgetting the fresh mountain air, few places could compete! Enthralled & feeling relaxed by the visit, he even purchased some dry fruits at a store outside the gardens. The smart salesman crushed some almonds in front of him; he watched the oil pour out. Obviously, they were fresh! The almonds purchased from the city he lived in, were always dry. Kashmir was turning out to be special!

To break the monotony of the sight of exhilarating gardens, he decided to visit Jamaa Mosque in the old quarter of Srinagar, stopping yet another cab. He wasn't able to speak much with fellow passengers, they spoke the local language Kashmiri, didn't appear too keen to engage in a dialogue. Daily life routine does get worst out of everybody, he thought to himself. Security was tight in the old quarter, getting there was quite a task as roads were messed up, there was plenty of slow-movingtraffic; he felt safe & secure.

Influenced by Persian architecture and completed in 1403 C.E the quadrangular shaped Jamia Masjid with a square garden, a water tank in the centre had few worshippers. Stranger still, the four spires

were looked in the middle, not at the corners; had similarities to Buddhist Pagodas making it a unique piece of architecture. There were no minarets or domes, only sloping roofs; carpets ran across the length of the prayer hall. The mood was somber, creating a feeling of timelessness; after spending few moments in silence he left the precincts of the complex, heading once again into the crowded streets. He wondered which mode of conveyance would transport him back to the waters of the Dal Lake, where a Shikara (boat ride operated by oars) awaited him.

The next couple of hours amidst falling sunlight on the placid waters were pure joy as the Shikara glided effortlessly creating water ripples, the oars made a `swooshing' sound. Salesmen in neighboring boats offered him all kinds of merchandise – edible &inedible; kahwa chai, dry fruits, imitation jewelry, shawls, caps…..name it, they had it. At times it got annoying! Commercialization had seeped into the waters as well, there was a shopping plaza as well, canals were narrower. Dal Lake was also a location which contributed to the livelihood of locals. Numerous attractively decorated houseboats dotted the banks sporting fancy names: Rajas Garden, Young Beauty Star, Dulce Domum, Holiday Home, Shalimar, New Australia & Honeymoon Paradise to name a few. The setting sun settled behind the mountains; darkness descended; he watched the lights turn on in the houseboats one by one. Smitten by the ride, he promised himself to do an encore, soon! For a day well spent, he treated himself to a fine meal at Srinagar's finest eating place – Stream Restaurant, where he gorged on Mutton & Vegetable cooked in Kashmiri Style, always flavored. Besides, they had special offers for persons dining alone – Half plate at half price!!

As always, he wanted to bring back souvenirs; items, clothes, handicrafts that would keep reminding him of amazing locations he visited. Off course, he couldn't carry home the `sound of a flowing stream' or `fill' the fresh mountain air in a container! He scoured the area in and around the Lal Chowk (Red Square) area in downtown Srinagar; now in a state of renovation. The clock tower had a new look, the roads were being widened and repaved. After refreshing himself with a hot cup of tea, he found hidden in a corner the Jammu & Kashmir Emporium – an old non-descript shop, urgently in need of a face lift. He picked up finely embroidered cushion covers, saffron and hand purses, besides a `tree of life' carving on Papier Mache. These mementos when viewed at home, would constantly remind him of `Paradise on Earth, it's Very Much Here, in India'!! Perhaps, it would even bring back the sound of flowing streams!

For bookings:

Kashmir tour packages and India tour packages

Contact: L'orient Travels, Kalina, Mumbai

Hector Dsouza: 9820239017

Website: https://www.lorientindia.in/