Kashmir can make a lyrical poet out of the most prosaic person (me!): Its incomparable beauty competes and complements the luminescence of the delicate Idd ka Chand. It was our great good fortune to be in Gulmarg, watching the live telecast of Chandrayaan-3’s gentle landing on the dark side of the moon. To describe this historic moment as merely “surrealistic” or “euphoric” or “OMG… so Pink Floyd, guys…” would be nothing short of insulting. I wept, danced and cried as the nation, united as one people, applauded the staggering triumph, and I rushed out of the cottage to seek out the moon, hanging low over the Pir Panjal range of the Western Himalayas, like it was kissing the tall, imposing pine trees on the property we were staying at. Unbridled pride for the stupendous achievement of our low-key, brilliant Isro scientists tore through my heart. We’d done it! Mera Bharat Mahaan had never sounded truer.
This called for an instant celebration. We headed to the 163-year-old bar with a rich legacy, going back to 1860 at Highlands Park Resort, and asked Ghulam Nabi Saab, the legendary bartender who has served drinks to world celebrities for 40-odd years, and ordered a hot toddy. My heart continued to go dhak dhak as I kept staring at the chand disappearing rapidly behind the mountains, and screwing up my eyes to see if it was indeed bathed in the tricolour. In the stillness of the night that followed our celebratory dinner of the best Yakhni lamb in Gulmarg, it was time to take it all in… calmly. Just the way our modest Isro scientists had reacted to their mind-boggling achievement. No bombast, no bragging, no chest thumping… just a quiet, dignified, sober acceptance of their feat.
Being back in Kashmir after a seven-year gap was an eye-opener. Let me put it out there: Kashmir has definitely got its mojo back. Rather, it’s well on the way to being the Kashmir we knew and loved -- all thanks to the strenuous efforts of the Army, which has been steadily but surely winning over the confidence of battered locals, who readily acknowledge the positive change that has taken place in the Valley in the past two years, after 30 long years of strife, ugly politics and daily acts of violence. I spent a great deal of time talking to people whose lives were disrupted for three decades as various political parties battled for control, caring little about the welfare of the Kashmiris themselves. As our articulate and well-informed driver told me: “My father bought a Contessa car to ply tourists just before the trouble began. With curfews and frequent hartals paralysing the Valley, he was forced to sell the car. It was the money from that distress sale that fed the family for two years. Our children couldn’t attend school. We had no jobs. We were stripped of everything. The story is different today. The local Kashmiri just wants to live a life of peace… earn enough to feed and educate his family. We don’t care about politics and Article 370. We have suffered. What we lived through shouldn’t be the fate of our children. It was beyond unspeakable. Now there is optimism and hope. My children are back in school. There is enough food on the table. The tourists are here in good numbers. We don’t expect a miracle. It will take another two or three years for change. But anything is better than suffering at the hands of politicians… all those corrupt people who profited from our sorrow.’’ He couldn’t have articulated the sentiments of locals any better.
Thanks to the help and support of Maj. Gen. Raj Sinha, VSM (Retd), a Mumbai buddy (we had met during his posting here), and someone with considerable operational experience in J&K, we were privileged enough to meet some exceptional officers and also bag that coveted invitation to dinner at a wonderful Army mess. The impressive décor, with various polished trophies competing for attention with framed medals, made for an evening that can only be described as educative and inspiring. What amazing stories of valour and sacrifice. And how little do we smug civilians actually know about the immense hardships endured by our faujis in combat, separated from their families for months on end, and living with danger 24x7. Their high level of commitment to the nation, combined with brilliant analytical thinking, made me acutely aware of my own lack of knowledge as we spoke about lessons from history and the complete, sincere, selfless immersion of our armed brethren in what they do: safeguard our borders with little regard to their own lives, which they are willing to sacrifice for us!
On my last day, a scheduled visit to HAWS (High-Altitude Warfare School) had me literally gasping for breath, as I watched a well-made documentary on avalanche rescue missions. This was established in 1948, and is one of the most important colleges globally in this field. The museum on the premises documents several impressive firsts, and I was lucky to be taken around by an enthusiastic, well-informed officer. A smart young man offered me a glass of piping hot kahwa on an elegant tray. I was keen to meet the heroic dog squad on the premises: those highly-trained canines responsible for locating bodies trapped under twelve feet or more of snow, within minutes of the team getting to the hazardous spot. But it was time to pack and get back to our privileged, cocooned city lives. To quote Imitiazbhai, one of the many men who lead nimble ponies to tourist sites above Gulmarg: “The last two years have been very good for all of us. The Army’s approach today is very different from the past. The soldiers are friendly and helpful. They know us by name… they respect us. And we respect them.”
Back at our hotel, I looked at the beautiful copper samovar I was taking back as a memory of our trip, as so many touching gestures flashed by in my mind. The sonorous chant of the pujari at the famous Maharani Temple (location for the popular Jai Jai Shiv Shanker song picturised on the Rajesh Khanna-Mumtaz 1974 movie Aap ki Kasam) was ringing in my ears. He is a Shiv bhakt and the lone Hindu in the area. Our darshan coincided with Naag Panchami. While blessing us, he said it was Shiva himself who brought us to the temple… and it’s belief alone that creates peace and love in the universe. I was moved by the simplicity of his words. Kashmir is a blessed place. May it remain peaceful and harmonious always.
