Paradise Here: Kashmir Chronicles – Part IV

Srinagar has often been called the ‘Venice of the East’. It gets its name from the many Lakes around the city including the iconic Dal Lake, noted for its houseboats. It also boasts of the red apple orchards and the bustling floating markets.In contrast, Kargil, the second largest town in Ladakh, a separate Union Territory now, is so very simple yet has an unusual scenic beauty. Its mountain ranges resemble the mountains of the moon—imposing and brown with a small smattering of snow. In the winter, these very same mountains look like white giants that rise from the earth. There is a calm that fills the air of Kargil that is both beautiful and eerie at the same time.Traveling from Srinagar to Kargil is like a journey between opposites. The two have a different ‘soul’. Srinagar is wild and commercial, and Kargil is quiet and sombre. Both different but beautiful in their own right..I wanted to do a yoga retreat in Kashmir and whilst the touristy Srinagar was something I wanted to see; Kargil tugged at my heartstrings. The stories of war and how soldiers often had to decide between food and weapons whilst protecting our borders, have always filled my imagination and my respect.We got down in Srinagar and saw the Dal Lake and a staged protest for the television channels. Yes, you read that right. As my bus drove out form Srinagar, I saw about ten men and women with hastily made placards on a roadside corner - no one seemed to care about their presence, yet at least four TV channels cameras zoomed in and took soundbytes to make it sound like that was all that was happening that day in Srinagar.I rolled my eyes and laughed and was so glad I was headed to the quieter and more sombre Kargil. The road between Srinagar and Kargil literally takes your breath away. It’s one of those roads you see on a desktop wallpaper and go wow. But in real life it draws so many other emotions—mainly fear and doubt!To reach Kargil, you need to traverse through the two high altitude mountain passes of Zoji La and Fotu La. Most of my students were asleep as we made our long journey across. .Suddenly one of them woke up and looked out the window, she exclaimed, ‘Hey, wake up; your eyes will fall out of the socket!’ She shook her neighbour awake and soon the whole bus was awake. We peeked out of our windows to see the height we were at. There was an audible gasp and then, silence. We looked like ant specs on the mountain side and even though no one said it, we understood that one wrong move would make it literally impossible to find our bodies on this unforgiving mountain side.Zoji La itself is operational for only a few months in a year because of the ridiculous amount of snow it receives.As we drove, I could hear some of my students in the back saying, ‘Please, I don’t want to look down. This is too scary.’ And yet another one moving from side to side so she could catch a glimpse of the deep ravines. Hilarious.As I listened to all the chatter, the fear, the oohs and the aahs, I wondered -- this must be a daily commute for people who bring essential goods. I looked at our driver who seemed to be driving with ease and asked whether he comes this way often. ‘Yes. Almost once a month.’ He replied casually. That gave my students hope and confidence.