Situated on the banks of the Lidder river, I had heard much about Pahalgam and its verdant valleys. Caught up in the excitement of travelling, I hadn’t given much thought to what I would do there. As our car drove past the sign saying ‘0.6 km to Pahalgam’, I was curious to see what lay ahead of us in the Valley of Shepherds.
First, we rested at the hotel for a while. The ride had taken only a couple of hours, so I wasn’t too tired, but I wanted to reserve some energy for the rest of the day. Our hotel room had a clear view of snow-capped peaks and the Lidder river. Sitting on the balcony chairs I ate some cherries and cucumbers, while taking in the idyllic scenery of the valley.
After lunch, we left for some sightseeing. All throughout the way I saw pastures with herds of goats and sheep, flowering gardens, and towering mountains lining the horizon. The weather was a bit cooler than Srinagar, but it was still quite pleasant.
We stopped at the foot of a hill crowded with horses and tourists. The driver told us that this was as far as he could take us, the rest of the journey would have to be on horseback. He also added that there was no question of trekking here, we had to rent a horse if we wanted to go anywhere.
The prices for renting horses were steep, even for the shortest routes. We tried bargaining with the horse owner, but he insisted that it was a fair price. Here’s the thing about bargaining with Kashmiri merchants. No matter how overpriced their products or services are, they will convince you that they are offering a great deal. In the end you begin doubting yourself and think that you’re the cruel one for haggling the price down so low.
We finally negotiated the price down to a somewhat affordable rate. Two young, inexperienced looking guys walked up to us, and told us that they would be our guides. I didn’t really have much confidence in them, but I decided not to judge a book by its cover and just trust them.
The mountain road was not as much a road as I had thought, it was rather a rough dirt path covered with horse hoof tracks. With pine trees all around, the birdsong echoing through the forest, and the soft grunts and clopping sounds of the horses, it was a very tranquil atmosphere. Cool air blew all around us, but it was still quite warm, so I took off my jacket.
Somehow it was at that very moment that I realized how much of a change this was from my normal life. During the pandemic I had become used to staying at home, looking out of my window at the same scenery, sounds and feelings every single day. Here, every day was a new experience. Everywhere I turned, I saw something new.
After riding on the same path for a long time, we walked into a sparse, dusty field. The guides stopped us and made us pose in front of a valley to take photos. The mountains were very far away, and it felt like the time when we saw a lake from on top of the mountain. But I didn’t lose hope thinking that the other spots would be better.
The path became a bit rugged after that. Tree roots riddled the route. At times the horse teetered a bit and my heart lurched. Thankfully we reached the waterfall without any mishaps save for me almost falling headfirst into the dirt while getting off my horse. Getting off horses is always a difficult task since I am short, and the horses are… not.
As soon as the guides tethered our horses, a nearby shop owner came up to us to offer us some fresh hot snacks. We agreed and they told us that they would have the food ready by the time we came back from the waterfall.
Though it was called a waterfall it was more of a stream. A man walked up to us and offered to take a picture of us with his pet pigeon. I politely refused because I was more interested in the lake. But then a kid walked up to me with a small white lamb and asked me the same thing. Looking into the pleading eyes of the kid and lamb, I couldn’t find it in my heart to refuse. I ended up clicking a photo with the lamb and the little girl immediately put out her hand for payment.
There were many other kids holding out rabbits, goats, and lambs but I didn’t want to indulge them anymore. Having learnt that their business strategy was to lure in soft-hearted people who take pity on small children and animals, I didn’t want to encourage it. It’s bad enough that they are exploiting animals, but on top of that they are also exploiting young children who act cute and bring in customers. It all just seemed very manipulative to me.
I sat down on a rock in the middle of the stream and ran my hands through the ice-cold water, watching the stream bubble and gurgle away merrily. It was not the most magnificent stream by any means, but it was still a pleasant experience.
After some time, we went up to the food stall where we had placed the order for snacks. The shop keeper walked up to us with a suitcase saying, ‘Ah the snacks aren’t ready yet, but can I interest you in buying some Pashmina shawls?” It was clear that this had been his plan from the start, to lure us in with snacks and try to sell us shawls. I was annoyed by the string of brazenly manipulative business tactics I had witnessed so far.
Brushing off the shawl salesman, we had our snacks and set out once again. The path grew even more treacherous, the uneven terrain causing our horses to hesitate. The guides slapped them with a whip to get them to move, and when we looked at them with disdain, they simply grinned, “This is necessary to tame the horses,” they said. But I feel like they hit them way more than what was necessary. I suspect it was a way for them to exert power over the poor animals who could do nothing but follow their commands.
While climbing a particularly rough patch of mud and rocks, I suddenly heard a yell. Looking ahead, I saw the horse had stumbled and fallen to its knees and dropped my mother off on the ground. I watched in horror as the horse too crumpled up and fell on my mothers’ legs. I jumped off the saddle and the guide shouted that I would fall. But miraculously, in a rush of adrenaline I jumped off the saddle without accident and rushed over to where my mother was lying on the forest floor.
My mother got up, and so did the horse. We sat on a tree trunk, as she was a bit shaken up by the fall. The guides seemed a bit sheepish; they had been insisting that the ride would be smooth without any danger. They insisted that it wasn’t their fault, but the horse’s which I thought was ridiculous. Mummy reprimanded them, saying that it was their incessant whipping had startled the already feeble-looking horse.
We wanted to turn back and go back to the car, but the guides insisted that we complete the journey, since the distance was the same both ways back. Reluctantly, we got back on the horses.
We went to a field, which was surrounded by a quaint looking wooden fence. There was a lone lamb sitting in the field with a young kid. Beyond the fence I saw a small stream, around which a couple of cows and horses grazed in the lush pastures then went to the stream to drink. A valley stretched out in the horizon, which was the main attraction of this spot. It was a beautiful place, a bit like an old-fashioned British farm. I might have enjoyed it more if our mood hadn’t been soured by the accident.
Every experience after that seemed dull, even though we tried to enjoy ourselves. We could tell that Mummy was in pain, and we constantly kept worrying about that. Falling off a horse was not a small matter.
We went to a place called Mini Switzerland, which was a huge green meadow littered with daisies and dandelions. It was a lovely sight, one corner filled with people and vendors. There was much activity going on in that corner, but we didn’t have the energy to go out there and do anything. We sat in a somewhat secluded area filled with wildflowers. The sun had begun to set, its slanted rays falling upon our face.
After taking some photographs, we enjoyed the scenery for a while, and then went to where the horses were tied up. We asked the guide to skip the rest of the spots, since we had realized that we were in no mood for any further sightseeing. The guides finally agreed, but then they still stopped at the rest of the points, and we were too tired to argue with them. There was nothing special about any of these spots, everything after Mini Switzerland passed in a blur.
Finally we ended at the starting point. The guides asked us for their payment, and slyly asked for a bigger tip, which I thought was pretty audacious considering how unhelpful they had been.
We found a dispensary nearby and got some painkillers for Mummy’s injuries. The doctor enquired how she had got hurt, and we told them about the horses. He tutted and started complaining about the whole horse-riding industry. Feeling a little defensive at being berated, we said that it was the only way to go sightseeing up there, he said, “And who told you that? Was it the horse owners?” To which we couldn’t think of a reply.
On the way back to the hotel I looked back at the day. Even though it was eventful, there weren’t really a lot of memories that I would look back upon fondly.
Insha Faridoon