“Beauty is an enormous, unmerited gift, given randomly”- And the Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini)
Suddenly, I thought about escaping from the clamor, hustle, and cacophony of my mundane city life into the warm, wildering heavens. As the clock kept ticking up, I lost count of how the boarding time had approached as I passed through multiple phases of the airport, and finally, the auspicious moment arrived. All at once, the murmuring sound of the heavens behind the mountains echoed through my turbulent mind, something I had probably desired for ages.
Day 1: Arrival in Delhi
One fine afternoon, after a two-and-a-half-hour trip from Dhaka, we landed in the bustling Metropolis of Delhi, the Indian Capital, which has always been a melting pot of myriads of cultures. After checking out of the airport premises, we broke into the city center after hopping on a bus and squeezing through the constant traffic. The soothing chants of the Azan filled the surroundings in the city’s old quarter, which hosts the famous Jama Masjid, built during the reign of Emperor Shah Jahan.
Finishing with our afternoon prayers in the mosque and filling our tummies with mouthwatering Kebabs and other Mughal delicacies, we stopped next to the Red Fort, which has always been the Premier Cultural Landmark of Delhi. This majestic structure in red sandstone stood gloriously in its royal aura in the twilight. This marvelous jewel still embodies the remnants of the rich Mughal splendor when the Indian Subcontinent was at the zenith of civilization. The compelling architecture and sprawling township around the site take us on a trip along the time machine to recall how our might and imperial legacy are written in flying colors in the red-lettered books of history.
As we overwhelmingly roamed along the mazy alleys of the compound, we gazed spellbindingly at the “Diwan e Aam,” “Diwan e Khas,” and “Mati Masjid.”
Next, we briefly stopped by the “India Gate,” a widely notable monument that still manifests the relentless strive of millions of patriots to make this land free from the prolonged shackles of the crippling colonial rule.
No sooner had dusk loomed in the vicinity than we headed towards the Qutub Minar, one of the iconic relics of the Delhi Sultanate, bearing the evidence of the halcyon days of the Islamic Golden Age. The magnificent complex, particularly the towering Minar, was built during the reign of Sultan Iltutmish, with its pointed arches and spearhead of fringes exquisitely standing with its profound grace to highlight the Sultan’s victory over the last Hindu Kingdom. The ornate complex holds the tombs of famous historical figures such as Qutubuddin Mubarak Shah, Shamsuddin Iltutmish, Alauddin Khilji, Firoj Shah Tughlaq, Muhammad Ghori, etc. through whom the baton of power has passed through transcending the Ghori, Tughlaq, Khilji, Lodhi dynasties after falling into the hands of Mughal Emperor Babar.
As we stayed overnight at a local hotel, we marched on our way to the ethereal Kashmir the following day as we were to unravel some more mysteries, and Mother Nature was eagerly waiting to warmly greet us with her bucketloads of divine opulence and bountiful blessings.
Day 2: Arrival in Srinagar, Kashmir, and visit Shalimar Bagh and Hazratbal
“As I look to nature’s beauty dazzled, am I,
Knowing everything calls on you, My Lord Most High.”
Suddenly, I peeped out of the window and dumbfoundedly found myself being welcomed with a guard of honor by the gigantic, cloud-touching peaks of the Peer Pranjal range of the Himalayas as the aircraft was about to touchdown the Shaikh-ul-Alam Airport, Srinagar, after a one and half hour flight from Delhi. As I looked all around, the enormous mountains sheltered the valley as if they charismatically stood with their heads high in sheer pride and courage and guarded the verdant valley like Roman Knights. The dormant landscape was hugged by the vast green cloak of the peaceful shades of Chinar, Oak, Pine, Cedars, and Willow as the colossal hills overlapped the vivid meadows in the backdrop.
That shivering morning on a frigid winter, as soon as we stepped into Srinagar town, we were amused to see the city as if it were a sleeping innocent infant cradled on the cozy laps of the mighty peaks, nestled on the banks of the confluence of the Jhelum and Chenab rivers. It looks mesmerizing to watch it embellished by sublime pigments of Mother Earth, embroidered by the intricate threads of rocky, mountainous roads narrowing towards infinity.
As the winter sun affectionately kissed the city with its warmth, the picturesque landscape brightly glazed like a painting by the immaculate hands of God on His dreamy canvas.
As the bus roared along the rocky, bumpy roads, I lived in my reveries, imbibing in heavenly bliss as nature adorned herself in her vibrant attire.
It was Friday. Immediately checking into the hotel, I started for the Hazratbal shrine mosque, joined the congregation with the locals, and blended into the crowds to offer the Friday prayers. The site captivated all of us as the white marble stone mosque glared bright in radiant hues in the deep waters of the widely renowned Dal Lake, colloquially known as the crown of Kashmir. Then we had our lunch with a mouthful of “Alu-Gobi,” “Mutton Rogan Josh,” “Naan Roti,” and sipping cups full of “Kahwa tea” at a local haveli. Then, while strolling along Dal Lake as I was exploring the corners of the town, I coincidentally came across vast stretches of Purple Lavenders, Red Roses, and Yellow Tulips, which filled the air with their redolent aroma. The cheerful chirping of the birds and the clouds sailing across the enormous sky left all of us hypnotized as we walked into Shalimar Bagh, an ancient Mughal Garden shrouded in the lush greenery of Deodar, Cypress, Mulberry, being circled by an old Mughal fort of Emperor Jahangir’s regime known as the Paree Mahal, as a reward to one of his Princes. One can have a bird’s eye view of Srinagar town from this seven-storeyed garden. According to a local myth, Mughal Princesses and Concubines often took shelter from black magic while they came here. The ambiance’s soothing charm was too rugged for everyone to get over. Indeed, the beauty was too mindblowing to sum up into words.
Day3: Chinar Bagh, Nishat Bagh, Dal Lake
The following day, we set for Nishat Bagh, again feeling myself surfing on the exhilarating waves of enthralling beauty. I plunged myself into total serenity while pondering like a vagabond in the lively pastures. The alluring setting was filled with colorful fragrant flowers and the rustling crisp of dry fallen leaves. The dictionary does lack words to define this enticing brief moment as the scenario indeed beggars description. Only one cannot but convey His heartfelt gratitude to the Supreme One to process the emotions as if one has eloped into the galaxies millions of light years away to feel this elegance.
As the dusk cowered, veiling the horizon, the iridescent sun setting behind the lush green forest on the mammoth mountains, the surrounding atmosphere basked in the mild golden glow. In the pristine waters on the surface of the Dal Lake, one can find a shimmering reflection of the surrounding vista, and the conspicuous silhouette of the houseboats anchored on the banks of the Dal and the nearby locality undoubtedly depict a picture-perfect postcard scenario. It was a full moonlit night, and the incandescent beams of the moon dazzling on the Dal Lake made me imagine sailing in my river of dreams while I was riding on a Shikhara, closing my eyes and listening to the whisper of the gentle ripples of the Dal. The entire ambience, the tranquil lake overlooking the idyllic township nearby, was illuminated in glossy lunar shades. The enchanting view and the calm breeze mumbles the stories of the lost utopia in our ears. It was pin-drop silence as I could only hear an owl hooting in the distance or the intermittent passing of a boat on the soft dancing ripples, ultimately leaving a wanderlust impression of The Paradise of The Planet.
Day4: Gulmarg, Aharbal Falls and Anantnag
We arrived in Gulmarg, a winter resort, after a 50-kilometer drive from Srinagar. As we passed along curved hilly paths, we shook hands with the wild unknown after changing ourselves into boots and overcoats.
After hours of rigorous trekking across snowy hilly trails, we hiked to the cable car, a.k.a. The Gondola. As we took the cable car to the mountaintop, the vicinity was wrapped in thick rugs of white snow. But while we went towards further heights, we nervously discovered ourselves like tiny toddlers while astonishingly gazing at the mountains as they rattled our hearts at first sight. We gasped and took a deep breath as cheers of insane extravaganza flowed through our veins as we enjoyed the unreal wonder from the mountaintop. This leaves a jaw-dropping feeling of stupendous exuberance as the gorgeous dead-drop landscape after the hike was worth every zillion dollars.
Then, as I slid and skied past snowy terrain while sledding at top gear, I felt a mad rush of adrenaline with a wild flow of ecstasy flowing inside me while slipping down the snowy slopes. As I started to feel the thrill, I suddenly seemed to conquer my existing limits and constant fear of stepping backward. The frenetic ride awakened all my senses, and suddenly, I felt an incredible sensation within the boundless uncertainty. The limitless skyline and generosity of the mountains quenched my heart with unabated joy. It was a sudden downpour of rapture that filled every void inside my heart, a shower of euphoria that my parched mind had craved for ages as I kept flying in jubilation.
On our way back, we were caught up by the magical sight of the Aharbal Waterfalls. This spectacular sight is no short of a postcard image, and it is challenging to take the eyes off it. The rumble of the fierce white water gushing through, amplified by the quiet environs, seems like striking beats of natural melody merging into a pool of azure blue water. Leaving here, we stopped in Anantnag town and purchased locally made crafts, shawls, scarves, carpets, and other trinkets.
This practice of artisanship and craftsmanship has been a family practice among Kashmiri households, which has been continued across generations due to the abundance of silk and Pashmina wool.
These crafts of outstanding acclaim indicate the long legacy of weaving and artistry with which the residents have been blending their creative minds, meticulous eyes, and delicate hands across ages.
Day5: Pahalgam
The following day, we headed to Pahalgam, the Jewel of the scenic Lidder Valley. We tasted garden-fresh apples from an orchard on our way to the destination. As soon as we had reached, we took a jeep and went straight to Aru valley, locally known as the Mini Switzerland. I bemusingly stared at the turquoise crystal water of the swift-paced, curvy, translucent Lidder river. The thick layer of pine forest in the backyard and the morning sun peeping through the fog made the entire setting astoundingly beautiful.
Then, I rode a pony along the vivacious rural vegetation across the inchoate Betaab valley. I briefly halted and was taken aback as I paused, my sleepy eyes wide open. The rich flora and fauna, glistening streams, riveting waterfalls, untamed glaciers, fiery saffron fields, and nomadic habitation intrigued the entire view. This untarnished remote setting resonates with a divine feeling of solitude to eagerly yearn for our missing panacea, the perpetual paradox of perfect happiness on our journey of individualism.
That night, I marked the end of the Precious days in Paradise. But I found it irresistibly hard to bid goodbye as I couldn’t figure out something obvious was pulling me back. The memories I created, the ties I had nurtured with the captivating surroundings, the heartwarming and cordial hospitality from the simple local people, and every bit of interaction with the residents made the unmatched experience move so fast in the blink of an eye. I returned to Delhi the next day. The goodbye probably would mark another fantastic beginning.
I look forward to filling in my empty notebook pages with stories I will forever cherish along my strolls in my memory lane. Probably, there are a billion reasons to reckon this place as the heaven on the planet, which undoubtedly make it an absolute treat to any beholders’ eyes, a sheer infatuating symphony to the ears as the Great Urdu Poet Iqbal referred again,
“Agar Firdaus bar roo-e- zameen ast,
Hameen ast-o-hameen ast-o-hameen ast”
“If there is a Paradise on earth, it is this….”
