Our moods soured by our experiences in Pahalgam, we set off on our last day with much lower expectations than we had started off with. We went to a park situated right next to the Lidder river. It was a very beautiful park, reminiscent of the parks we had seen in Srinagar. The path to the river was closed off by a fence, but we found a small path paved by rocks leading to the river. It was a steep descent, one had to be careful not to slip on the rocks slick with river water.
We sat on some rocks beside the river, taking off our shoes to dip our toes into the cool flowing water. We sat there for a while, taking in the sights. Not a cloud in sight, we could clearly see the Himalayas. The snowy peaks seemed so close; I could almost feel shivers running up my spine. My eyes followed the path of the Lidder, trying to see if its path led up to any of these mountains.
Eventually I got bored of the sights, no matter how nice they were. I explored the riverside, there wasn’t much except rocks and some wildflowers. I picked a bunch of wild daisies and followed a butterfly fluttering down the path until it flew away. Looking back, it seems unreal now to think that I actually lived through all of these experiences, with butterflies and flowers. It’s kind of sad that nature has become this fantastical experience while huge man-made buildings have become an everyday thing that we are so used to.
The park was surrounded by water on both sides. I don’t know if it was the same river which had cut off into two different paths or two different rivers flowing side by side. The water was a lovely turquoise blue colour, we stood on top of a bridge overlooking the water.
We went to another park nearby. The entrance was full of vendors selling jewellery and snacks. A vendor was walking around with pieces of watermelon served on a paper plate. This park was a lot bigger than the first one. It had a river running down the side as well. The sun had risen high in the sky, we looked for a tree to sit under the shade. We found a huge tree, surrounded by wild daisies. I sat down with my mother as she started braiding my hair with wild daisies.
A girl came and started staring at us. It got a bit awkward so we started to make small talk, asking her if she would also like to braid her hair like that. We didn’t expect her to agree, but when she sat down in front of us, my mum began to braid her hair as well. The daisies were white in colour, though some of them were also tinted pink. Her siblings came in search of her, and soon her entire family was sitting around us. It was a bit sudden; we were taken aback by their friendliness. It was difficult to communicate, they didn’t know much Hindi. They must have either been overly friendly or must have really liked me because when they were about to leave, the girl’s grandmother pulled me in for a hug. It was a very random, but pleasant experience.
We went down and sat next to the river. The sound of the water, paired with the light chirping of the birds made me want to sit there for the entire day. It seemed pointless to keep running around the entire town, when we could just sit here and relax for the rest of the day. But eventually, we had to go. While leaving, we saw a lot more people out on picnics. The picnic culture in Kashmir was truly fascinating.
We got a plate of Maggi, and went to the next park, which was just a few minutes’ walk away. There was a small stream flowing down the middle, which branched off into even smaller brooks, dividing the park into sections. We sat down next to one of these small brooks, and I peacefully ate my noodles. We saw more Kashmiri families out on picnics. It was a Sunday, so I guessed that it might be a way for the entire family to unwind after the week.
The picnics were no casual affair either, people had brought out huge kettles full of Kahwa, casseroles full of food, and some had even brought along stoves and utensils to cook fresh hot food. It was a fascinating sight, to see old grandmas cooking with pressure cookers in the middle of a park. I even saw two men rolling down a small gas cylinder, for their stoves. I had never seen such elaborate picnics before visiting Kashmir.
By now we had had our fill of nature, and I was more interested in watching the people. But I don’t think the people particularly enjoyed being stared at. I was looking at two old ladies smoking hookah, and they awkwardly covered themselves up with a newspaper. That was when I realized that I may have seemed very rude, a tourist staring at locals like I am at a zoo or museum.
We went off to explore the rest of the park. There were young people running all over the park, splashing water on each other. A mischievous few even splashed their elders, who did nothing except chuckle. After walking for a while, we sat down on a bench to rest. A Pashmina salesman came up to us with a bundle of shawls. There was no escaping them, even in this isolated corner of the park.
After a while, we set off to Betaab Valley, a popular tourist spot in Pahalgam. We had a new driver, a jolly old man named Sultan. Our journey up to Betaab Valley was an arduous one. The traffic was horrendous. After an hour of just waiting at the same spot, we decided to walk the rest of the way. There was another park here, with another stream next to it. At this point, I had lost track of all the water bodies we had encountered.
There was a Pashmina goat standing at the entrance, as a sort of tourist attraction. There were indeed a lot of tourists here. Much more than at the gardens we had been visiting all day. I’d realized that most tourists weren’t really inclined towards the flowery gardens of Kashmir, they were much more interested in conventional tourist attractions.
The garden was full of lovely bridges and park benches next to the river. It felt like something straight out of a melancholic music video. I got a cup of kahwa and sat next to the river, resting after the steep climb. I imagined how much more beautiful the garden would be in the winters, with snow lining the riverbanks and handrails of the bridges…
Next, we made our way to Aru Valley. It was much cooler up there, and even though I was wearing a light sweater I was still shivering. We ended up buying some shawls, which were much cheaper over here than in the city.
The park at Aru Valley had a beautiful view of the mountains. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay there for long as the sun had almost set, and the park was about to close. So we trudged down the way we had come and set out to return to the city. The driver told us that his home was on the way back and offered to serve us tea at his house.
Since it was cold, and because tea was always a welcome respite from the cold, we agreed. We were also curious to see a traditional Kashmiri home because they always looked so pretty from the outside. We drove through the winding streets of a small town and came across a small two storeyed house.
We were led to the sitting room, which was wood panelled and fully carpeted. We sat on the floor, leaning against the embroidered pillows as the driver and his daughter brought in tea and snacks. We talked to them about their lives. Apparently, all his kids studied in college, and his eldest son was pursuing his PhD at Kashmir University.
After talking for a little while, we hit the road again. All in all it was a relaxed day. It embodied our main purpose for visiting Kashmir, which was to get away from the hustle bustle of daily life and just relax in the lap of nature.
