Dec 2006.
Visiting Kashmir
had been the subdued dream of my life. “If there is paradise on
earth, it’s here, it’s here, it’s here” had always buzzed in my ear. I still remember that
one summer holiday, perhaps I was in class 4 or 5 when fascinated by the summer
vacation trip stories of my friends, I had persuaded my father to go on a
family trip. And we had made a detailed plan for the visit to Kashmir, even got
the snacks for the train journey packed. But as it had always happened, the
priorities were different at that time and the plan had remained as plan.
So when I returned
to Katra after visiting Mata Vaishno Devi Mandir and saw the travel operators’
board giving option to visit the valley of Kashmir from here, the subdued wish
got ignited. Despite the rolling terror stories of the valley I mustered courage, to fulfil
my fancied subdued dreams. (Naturally under disguise to fulfil my family’s
wish…) We hired a taxi from Katra and moved to Srinagar.
The
contouring roads, The green valley , rows of Chir giving way to Deodar as we
moved to the Higher altitudes and then the serene beauty – Sri Nagar. And under
the moon lit night we reached the row of houses built on big boats planked on
the bank of Dal Lake. The driver stopped the car on one side and went down to
one of such boats and knocked. An old man wearing the long overcoat – “phiran”
came out and spoke something in dogri – a confirmation, I could gather through
the face movement.
He
came straight to us and greeted in Hindi with a broad smile. A beautifully
decorated living room followed by well wall to wall woodworked bedroom.
The
dream trip had started. We settled down. But soon the chill of the city started
taking its toll. Apoorva, my son, started shivering. Richa, my better half, too
pulled out coats and shawls. Before we could think any further – a lady in
bright Kashmiri dress came in with hot water bag and Kangri, as if they knew
that we were waiting for it.
She
asked for menu of food. The whole family seemed to be pressed in the service.
(a true hospitality)
We
were lost in the paradise. To add to it, the snow started falling. The glass
window offered a magnificent viewing - the flakes of ice drizzling down. Our
first encounter with snowfall was a dream, come true. We walked out to the edge
of the boat to feel the same, but could not stay for more than a few minutes.
It was really chilling. I wondered how Kapoors used to dance in this. We rushed
in and it took hours for our blood to move in veins again.
Early
next day we stepped out- the whole valley was painted white. We couldn't waste
time sitting in house-boat – so our first destination for today – Gulmarg. We
moved out.
The
car moved through the lanes. We could see only two groups along the road
engrossed in their own discussions all along. Either the military or the residents
draped in the long robe with a protruding belly. On tracking further
carefully I could see more army men positioned strategically. A mysterious hush
enveloped the city movement.
Apoorva,
my 7 yrs. son wanted to have some chocolates.
I
asked the driver to stop.
“Nahin
Shab, Yahan pata nahin lagta kaun sahi hai kaum galat”. We would stop only were
all tourists are stopping. (I could hardly see any)
I
looked at Richa. My doubts were seconded. Every group now appeared poking their
eyes on us, suspicious & interrogating. The protruding of Phiran on the
belly raised a thousand questions in our mind. The atmosphere now appeared
morose, the bliss subdued.
We
kept mum looking at each other. Our hand holding the other reassuring, we made
Apoorva sit in between us. Ecstasy gone …….
(The Naked Truth - for a
tourist - the paradise lost)
We
moved silently to our destination. Stopped were others rested, ate were others camped,
till we reached Gulmarg - a white sheet covered all, so soothing, so pure, so
enlightening yet only A scenic paradise.
With
the morning experience we could not gain courage to spend another night in the
house boat all alone now with the uncertain eyes around.
We
shifted to hotel instead. But next day there was more to come. The TV said –
the link to the valley is cut. It had snowed again the whole night. The road to
Jawahar tunnel was blocked. Jawahar
Tunnel, one of the longest tunnel-road in Asia that linked Jammu to Kashmir
Valley. The architectural marvel built at Banihal at a height of 2194 m and is
2825 m. long. The only metal-road-tunnel through the heart of the mountain that
provided life to the valley and made possible to stay in touch with
Srinagar even during winters – was blocked. And such blockades were san
die.
All
channels talked about this and only this. They had the breaking news. We stayed
glued to the idiot box - hoping against hope the route would be cleared. Now
the only wish was to get out of the paradise safe and sound. Nothing appeared
to excite us now. We talked to every taxi stopping at our hotel – if they had
any better news. Nothing could be made out for certain. I could not stay any
longer. Mobile were new at that time and that too had stopped working. No way
to inform further.
The
only solace - the sky was clear. We decided to tackle the situation as per se
en-route. We left the Paradise. Hardly had we left the city limit, saw
barricades. Vehicles coming from the other side gave rays of hope. We waited -
army and the “robed” gazing constantly adding to the discomfort. The wait would
never end. It was 2.00 pm, I moved and enquired. Long queue of Cars and Trucks
stood separately.
Cops
tried to explain to us, “It would not be safe to go further. One of the two
tunnels was still blocked. They are letting traffic from one side for a day. It
would not be possible for us to go for two days as tomorrow happens to be
normal day for incoming through the tunnel or till the other tunnel is opened”.
He
gave the driver a good scold as if he was supposed to know all this as a routine
event of this valley city.
We
discussed again.
“There
is a shorter route to Qazigunda (about 5 kms) from Jawahar Tunnel”, he said.
-“If
we reach there and the route gets cleared we may get a chance to move out
from tunnel today itself.”
We
had no other choice. I didn’t want to stay any further here. I wanted to reach
the tunnel and stay near it, so that I could pass through as soon as it opened.
All the euphoria of the Paradise was gone by now.
The whole family was
looking towards me as if I was a connoisseur to handle such situation. And I
gathered courage because of my family. After all the family is the pillar of
strength.
We
moved through the link road. But as the luck would have it. Hardly another km.
and there was the long line again.
“May
be a small jam”, my self-consoling thought.
But
then some drivers appeared rushing in, shouting “wapas chalo” The police is
coming.
-
A bolt from the blue.
No
point to ponder. 4 to 5 hrs and the link road, I was confused.
The
driver turned the car and reached Qazigunda in flash. Advised to take a room
here and spend the night as it would not be possible to reach to the city as it
was dark.
But
I was late in this, too. There were only a few shabby motels that too occupied.
Snow had started falling again. Apoorva was shivering. Richa was looking blank.
I needed to get them warmth. I somehow pleaded and managed to get one small
room (8x8 with a charpai in it). It also opportune us to avoid the choice of
spending the chilling night in the car with all around people in long robes –
belly protruding, talking in hush, gazing eyes, enquiring always. We put the
cover around the three of us and slept One being the strength for other.
I knew together we can – together we will.
Our
ears stayed parked on the road to read the movement of the vehicles to start.
The
dark gave way and dawn approached. The
driver was already waiting. We moved and reached again to a queue in waiting
.The vehicles had started parking outside the tunnel since 5.00. The tunnel
opens only at 8.00, we came to know. This wait was bearable for us. We waited
for the clock to strike 8:00. The sky was overcast. The valley still chilled.
The
queue started moving and we entered the tunnel. In a few minutes we could see daylight
across the tunnel. We crossed the tunnel.
A
bright sun was spreading its warmth on the terrain outside. No overcast. No
chill. Together we were, hands in hands,
welcoming the new dawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment