Jammu and Kashmir – TRAVELTRUNK.NET

August 27, 2024

Gurez and Kheer Bhiwani- A Visit to An-Other world

Come, have tea. The pretty girl says, hanging out of the window of her wooden house. The invites are pouring in on this lovely sunny day. I ruefully decline. I’m not alone and we are running awfully late as it is.( the time plan goes further awry when I found the aunt had accepted someone else’s.) But I ask if I can take her picture. In the by lanes of this tiny village, the mousse brown house makes a perfect frame for her in her sparkling white hijab. Wandering back through the labyrinth of lanes we cross a mosque and exchange greetings with a matriarch sitting outside her house and a wizened old man reading. The driver has a bemused look when we can’t find half my clan. He points to a house in an alley. The girl who was chatting with the aunt on the road has taken the rest home. They are sitting on a carpeted floor with the man of the house, a ‘doctor sahib’, his wife, daughter in law and the extended family. He shows videos of him trudging through snow bound mountains to give vaccination shots to babies. Kashmiris have no furniture in their house, I was told. Well, if I had wall to wall carpeting like that, neither would I. The last few hours in Gurez Valley are tinged with an old-world charm and simplicity, that can be found, I suppose, in the backlanes of villages time has little time for.

Soon we reluctantly retrace our path back to Razdan pass where we had come from the day before, with a last view of this picturesque valley at the curve of the towering craggy range and the lake formed by the dammed Kishanganga river.

On the Road through Iris Pass

We crossed Bandipore town to climb into the forested mountain, leaving luminescent step-fields and scattered hamlets by the side. The first stop is for a picnic breakfast by the road under the low branches of a dark deodar. After making a tiny dent in the food packed for an entire army by the sister, and chasing elusive birds twittering all around, we are back on the road. Soon the last of the trees give way to the bare crest of the range.

A passing drizzle makes us skip halting at the Pir Baba’s shrine. Razdan Pass, the gateway to Gurez, lies buried under snow for months but summer makes it melt to make way for grazing sheep and, as we stop to discover, fields of wild iris shaking in the icy winds that blow the clouds across. I spot white iris for the first time. Then the path descends past birch trees growing at crazy angles. Lower down, frozen streams fill the folds in the mountains and a few tents mark the dwellings of the Gujjars. The valley narrows till we cross the dam on the Kishanganga river that gets renamed as soon as it crosses the border.

Another river story Along the Lohit on the Long Road to Walong

The Vale of Vistas

A boomerang shaped reservoir cradled in the nook of a steep mountain range, lush green with craggy tops, has come up because of the dam. Gurez valley stretches between the ranges in a perfect U till the famous ‘Habba Khatoon’. It stands seemingly alone at the end, surrounded only by lore of the tragic poetess-queen who lent her name to this perfectly conical rugged mountain.

She wandered in the valley and up the mountains when her husband, Yousuf Shah Chak, the ruler of Kashmir was taken by Akbar to Bihar, never to return. In between lie small hamlets surrounded by fields and the overgrown village of Dawar, by the side of a rushing river. The mountain side is covered in patches of thick forest topped with rocky peaks with massive overhangs providing a perfect habitat for bears and other animals.

Read about Discovering Dibang Valley, the Last Frontier

Relearn the Art of Rambling

The plan at Gurez is to not have any plan. Just be!… And ramble…..Take off in any direction… up the hillsides, into the bylanes of Dawar. We reach late in the afternoon after an easy journey of about six hours. The weather has packed up so our afternoon walk plan gets shelved. In the mountains, man proposes and weather god disposes! So, we take a drive up to a Kandiyal Top to see the sunset. It is on an outcrop with a ringside view of the days last rays coming through a perfect V in the mountains and light up the lake or like today, let the clouds stream in. Then we ramble down the road savouring the beauty around. The weather is perfect for a cup of coffee at the tiny wooden café in the middle of town. The bakarwal dogs outside charmingly beg to be fed. The play of light and colours flit on Habba Khatoon’s stony face. Nothing like heartbreak or sublime surrounding to turn one into a poet like the queen. (No chance here!)

Next morning after a short drive on the road to Tulail we cross the river towards the spring at the base of Habba Khatoon. The weekend crowd is more of a dampener than the cold water and we turn back to the village enroute. Ditching the vehicles we walk along the steep mountainside dotted with walnut trees and wild daises growing near a village of old wooden houses. The people in this valley are Dards with their own language. A memorable morning of socializing ensues.

The Legend of Kheer Bhawani

With an evening to spare after a pilgrimage to Amarnath is done and dusted (and literally how!) we close the trip to the valley with a visit to Kheer Bhawani. Winding through fields of green paddy braided with tiny streams shaded by weeping willows we made our way to the temple of the goddess. This area was more of a marshland once. Streams that web their way around still have slim shikaras moored here and there.

A woman rows one, laden with provisions, in a stream that disappears into the backyard of houses. The route ends in the middle of Tulmulla village square after crossing a bridge. A massive red gate and wall surround the complex of the goddess. Inside small shrines dot the central area, and in the middle, surrounded by towering white bark chinars, lies the colour changing sacred spring from which the statue of Sheer Bhiwani and a shivling, their origins lost in antiquity, were discovered at some point in time. Now, in the middle of the spring a tiny ‘temple’ houses the goddess where she has the place of prominence. Through the water changing colour she portends the luck of the inhabitants of the valley. When we enter it is icy blue and then milky white. During the 1947 and Kargil war it turned black and during the recent pandemic red.

I made quite a pest of myself with the sister organizing the trip. Haranguing on about going to Gurez. A tiny valley still untouched by mass tourism and crass commercialization. To do what? Relearn the art of rambling! What followed was a trip to an other world of charm and tales.

Fact File

Distance

Srinagar to Dawar- Approx 137 km.

Srinagar to Kheer Bhawani- Approx 22km.

Best Time to Visit

Gurez Valley- May to October. It still remains cut off in winter.

October 22, 2021October 22, 2021

Tarsar Marsar : Memoirs of an Escapade

The night prior to my early morning departure for Srinagar Syed Shah Geelani passed away, thankfully in his bed. In Delhi that evening scrolling through Inshorts it registered vaguely, my mind more on organizing my gear and the 6 am drive to the airport. I was praying it wouldn’t rain (it did!) like it did in the day, when Delhi took a dunking in record rainfall. To top it I was going alone, trekking with a company found on the internet, with companions I had no idea about. And yeah, 2 phone numbers to tie it all together. How desperate could I be to do this trek?

Roller-coaster Ride

So we cross the Pir Panjals and cruise low enough to make out houses, fields and streams in a wide valley cupped by snow capped mountains. We land and as we are heading out I hear snatches of conversations – No network, Covid retest. An earbud-like treatment is the least of my issues. The Valley’s communication lines have been shut down. No phones, except for BSNL postpaid (which I do not have) and no internet! A long dawdling wait at the airport ensues where strangers generously lend me their phones to make frantic calls, offer to drop me to Pahalgam… the Dal Lake! One driver asks me who I am trekking with and when I say Fayaz bhai he tells me with absolute conviction to wait. Someone will come he says. And so I do, till I find my trekking companions and the missing driver. Relief! Then it’s a drive through shuttered towns with lots of detours and at Anantnag, an unyielding cop makes us think this is the end of the road. I am with a group of Bengalis and if anyone can take on authority resolutely yet sweetly, it is a Bengali woman. He finally relents and we are soon crossing the flowering gardens of Pahalgam by the blue Lidder and galloping towards Aru like horses nearing their stable.

A river runs through- Batalik – A Tribute to the Human Spirit

Meet the People at Aru

Fayaz bhai is our trek leader and cook. A typical tall Kashmiri with a hooked nose, he is reticent with a watchful smile. We stay at his house the local way- in one big carpeted room, bedding in a line on the floor. Not what I am expecting but then that seems to be the theme of this trip. Dinner is in a similar room downstairs and the Haaq is fresh and delicious. His mother lets me warm my hands on her kangri, although the conversation is limited with lots of smiles to fill the gaps. His young niece, Shagufta is like a curious pretty butterfly, and takes a shine on some of us and an instant dislike to one. The entire household sees us off the next morning.

Discover deserted mansions in – Bikaner’s Merchants and Their Mansions

Sound of Music

Shahnawaz, our guide, is a young lad studying in grade 12^th with dreams to be a doctor. He is like a herder with infinite patience and a gentle mien. On the intermittent open slopes enroute to Lidderwat we come across kothas, the flat roofed mud and wood dwellings of the Gujjars. As we take a breather near one the kids come scrambling, then bashfully ask for chocolates. We cross families of Bakarwals striding down, their colourful horses at times carrying sacks of wool.

The last meadow before the wooden bridge to Lidderwat is like a movie, Sound of Music perhaps. Little white flowers dot the greenscape. A horse munches on the grass sprouting on the roof of a kotha made next to a massive boulder. The silence is broken by the baaing of a herd of sheep that sweep across the meadow.

I found wishes were not horses but camels – At the Darwaza of a Road Less Travelled

Lidderwat lies at the confluence of the Lidder River which originates from the Kolahoi glacier and a stream fed by the runoffs of Tarsar and Sundarsar. The place is overrun with sheep, ponies and kids looking for a sugar rush and at night, a bear or so I am told. Alone in my tent at night I wake up startled when something large bumps into my tent but the ferocious barking that ensues is like lullaby to my ears.

Shekhwas‘s Stellar Surprise

We are taught traffic rules of narrow mountain paths on the move early enough the next morning. ‘Side, side,’ shouts Shahnawaz from the back as the horses carrying the camping gear catch up with us. We move hither- thither. He says, ‘mountainside!’ The ponies always walk on the edge we learn.

Shekwas has no trees, no lake, just endless slopes of green converging into a stream in the middle. The evening is spent in solitude on the slope above the camp watching the horses and sheep without any minders. But the night! Oh my god the night! I could have slept, I should have..(Would have been a frozen ball in the morning though.)… under the Milky way! We step out from the dinner tent and I gasp and stop dead. The galaxy is a creamy luminescent cloud in a sky already crowded with stars, shooting stars, satellites. An astronomy enthusiast points out Saturn and Jupiter. The sky seems to say this stellar show is only for those who tread this path, when I fail abysmally to photograph even a twinkle…. I reluctantly agree.

Read about another out of this world experience in- Mystic Maheshwar : At the Center of the Universe

The Garden Path to Tarsar

In the morning a sharp whistle has me rushing out of the tent thinking its an exotic bird only to see a sweeping mass of white dots moving near the kothas across a stream from us. The herder and his flock have set out for the day. The walk up to Tarsar is a ramble on a mountainside park strewn with boulders, Pipits and Accentors hopping on them and flowers growing in between.

Explore – The Gardens of Delhi – A walk not only on the green side but through history itself

Tarsar in a kidney bowl is a mere reflection of the game of chase being played out above, faithfully changing colour. Sunlight like dappled diamonds plays on its surface. The wind makes it move restlessly against the rocks in the afternoon. A peachy grey dusk brings the curtains down on an evening of songs with warming cuppas as Mercury shines brightly above silhouetted craggy peaks.

A Study

The next morning as all the trekking groups crest the pass together, the heights are a study in human behavior. The adrenaline junkies are on a high(t) and on all the edges, the selfie fiends hog the best spot, the solitude seekers tune out of the circus. All paying homage to the placid lake below. The trail spreads out again as we head down towards the meandering stream in the distance. Its boggy surroundings houses marmots we discover.

We camp next to Sundarsar and after lunch follow the goats across a pass for a bird’s eye view of the twin Marsar. Across the pass 2 dogs charge at us but are firmly brought to heel. The older one is unfriendly but the younger one hasn’t lost his innate friendliness. Still, with a sheepish wag of his tail he maintains his distance now. His owner then disappears behind his flock into the rocky face of the mountain lining Marsar, a dour looking massive lake so far below. The mountain range on the other side seems to be the end of the world.

Portrait of a Shepherd and an Obedient Dog

Find a lake like no other at- Pangong Tso – The Gems in the Crown

At Sundarsar the pack horses are being lured back to the camp with treats. Mushtaq is the pony guy and his intense eyes are a little disconcerting but his devotion to the animals is absolute. The helper at large, Shabir dresses one’s wound and then their forelegs are bound for the night. Waking up at dawn next morning I am duly rewarded with the stunning sight of Mt Kolahoi’s outline towering in the horizon. The clouds quickly drape themselves around it.

The Women at the Meadows

The long march back to Lidderwat is along the stream coming out of Sundarsar and we cross kothas with Choughs pecking in the empty corrals and women inviting us in for tea. Most of us move on regretfully. At Homwas near a Kotha barely discernible from above, the Bakarwals are sitting, literally on the sheep. Years of practice shows in the methodical evenness of the shearing being done with ancient scissors. Bags of wool sit waiting to be loaded onto the horses. A young girl wants to see what I have shot. As I sit to show her, a little scruffy girl, barely 2 feet off the ground, who has been watching me with big round eyes comes and tucks herself into me to watch too. I can do nothing but hug her back and beat back a crazy desire to carry her home.

The trek, a journey and some companions.

Back at Fayaz bhai’s house his solemn boys find us and some treats. Shagufta finds new people in her house. I had gone for a trek, thinking only of the mountains I wanted to be in. Kashmir is truly a generous gift from nature. But I learnt how much a place is about its people. That a trek is a journey and companions matter.(Totally lucked out on that!) At some level it felt we were all just walking each other home.

Take a rambling walk with me in- Tarsar Marsar : A Trekker’s Take

September 23, 2021September 27, 2021

Tarsar Marsar : A Trekker’s Take

Like I overheard at the tail end of the trek- “There is so much on the internet about Tarsar Marsar.’ True, since it is easy on the eyes, to say the least, it is an ‘A’ Lister of treks, but most of what is written is from a trek company’s perspective. Natural beauty apart, it is peddled to be an easy-moderate trek. Assuming you are moderately fit like me, how would it pan out for you? ..Easy or moderate? Take a rambling walk with me through each day and find out. The walk starts from Aru.

Day 1- Warming up from Aru to Lidderwat

So we start from the home stay, at around 8:30, bidding goodbye to our hosts like we are going to summit Mount Kolahoi itself. In full disclosure of ignorance I had not heard of it before. And it takes couple of days for the name to start rolling of my tongue. But I’m smitten! Such sharp features, what a towering personality! Oh better get moving with the trek… So we are huffing and puffing in the strong sun in 10 minutes, walking up a gentle slope with swaying grass growing behind the fence of the agriculture dept. on both sides. We summit the slope and flop down on a rolling meadow sandwiched between massive conifers groves. Rousing ourselves from our picture perfect setting we dive into the thick conifers ahead. And so it continues over a gentle up-slope walk through sloping meadows and thick trees for 10 odd kms. At one place it narrows out in the woods and the Lidder river can be heard roaring far below and in another we walk down almost to river level with a tea point where we have our packed lunch and say tentative hellos to the other group of fellow trekkers sprawled around.

Read about an emerald river in – Part One- On the Wild Side of Outstanding Orchha

At the last meadow before our camping ground, the path leading down to the river is like someone got into a snit and said just get down will you! Follow this stream of water down….Walk across the wooden bridge and voila!… Lidderwat!

Day 2: On the rocks from Lidderwat to Shekhwas

Its supposed to be 5.5 kms that day but it feels more like 7 and the early trekkers on the starting slope in the distance make it look easy. One can’t see the slatey path or the narrowness from the camp. But the minute we turn into the narrow valley with a stream far down, it eases off. After a short undulating walk we cross a trickle coming down and fill our bottles. We round another bend where a hawk hovers to reach the meadows of Homwas.

The sides of the valley are steep but the walk is gentle and we cross the stream and head towards the end of the tree line. It all narrows and we are walking on swirling root steps of a tree leaning into the stream below. Then we are between a rock or rather boulders ending in a hard place- the gushing stream. The alternate route will add another hour. I give baleful looks to Shahnawaz, our young guide. We dive onto the boulders and I hate it! I have no sense of balance and thank my stars I make it without twisting my ankle or wrecking my knee caps. All with help of the gallant young guide.

Bliss is what is to be found on the slopes of Shekhwas

Our camp is a short walk up and ahead on a slope of the expansive bowl. Oh! no! As we start the climb up some madness takes over and a fellow trekker and I decide enough of trudging and race up the slope like the locals. No paths! It’s an exhilarating end!

Discover a place marooned in the mountains in – Disconnecting with the World on a Mountain Isle at Shaama

Day 3: Rolling uphill from Shekhwas to Tarsar

By now I have tapped into my inner pahadi. It also helps that’s it’s the easiest 5 km walk so far… A boulder strewn wide gentle slope is what we traverse most of the way. I am able to walk ahead, take pics, fall behind and catch up without losing my breath after a while. There is just one big stream to cross.

Of boulders, birds and beautiful flowers

The flowering mountainside is ours to walk on and we crest and spy our tents beyond a dip. We have made it in time for lunch in about 4 hours and our tents are pegged on a slope before the lake. Super excited about making it to the first lake we take a short walk to see it. A jagged mountain hides Tarsar in its folds… Finally, the almond shaped lake with its water gently being pushed into a stream by the wind. The sun and wind battle it out in this high altitude. The colours of the lake shift playfully along.

Read about a lake like no other in – Pangong Tso : The Gems in the Crown

Day 4- Brace up for Tarsar to Sundarsar

Valleys at our feet, vistas in our sight.

The Tarsar pass looks deceptive. Sure the climb doesn’t look gentle but it seems short. It is but it is also two feet wide in most places. A tumble won’t kill but it’ll take you down more than a few feet and leave you in a heap of bruises.

The summit seems rocky and constrained. That it is but it expands to take in everyone posing with Tarsar and it’s surrounding craggy peaks providing a stunning backdrop before descending on a path way longer than the ascent. The path to Sundarsar is laid out in its entirety. It’s through a U-shaped valley with a loopy stream sandwiched between boulder crossings. Those feet killers! The one at the far end is big and ends at the mouth of Sundarsar.

A small placid lake, it is set in a niche off the wide valley at a height of about approx 12900 , mirroring its rocky cradle. After lunch we follow the goats across the lake as they disappear across the rubble strewn steep path over the pass (The highest point of the trek at about 13200 feet). It’s a bit of a scramble but its short and the other side is an undulating ramble for a bird’s eye view of the Marsar lake way, way down below. A more forbidding, darker mirror image of Tarsar. This is as close as we’ll get to it. I feel a bit like a Lammergeier sitting 800 feet above the lake on a craggy outcrop. Not ready to fly.

Explore the colours of another far off lake in – Harlequin Holi at Todaraisingh

Day 5: Long walk back to Lidderwat

The night isn’t as cold as I expected camped next to Sundarsar but thats maybe because I am kind of surreptitiously given a fancy extra liner. A good sleep is needed because we are breaking camp at 7 for a long walk straight to Lidderwat instead of spending the night at Homwas, making it a 17 km march that day. I think the weather has a hand in it.

A meandering stream yet to find direction.

Much of it is retracing steps except initially we walk along the base of a valley being drained by the stream coming out from Sundarsar till Shekhwas. Midway the choice is to cross a big boulder fall or cross the stream. Rock and a hard place again. This time the hard place is a springy, narrow bridge across the stream, 9 feet high. Just can’t do it! Finally holding a human mountain goat’s finger I fairly skip across (if I may say so) the boulders through the stream.

We found a deceptive stream in – Chushul – Chumathang : Hello Indus & Iridescent Colours!

That bridge and the human mountain goat.

The weather report is spot on. Within half an hour of reaching Lidderwat the heavens open up gently. Its been a long but fun 10 hours.

Day 6: Rambling back to Aru

Picture postcard from paradise might look like……

I do the 10 kms back to the hamlet almost without a break. There have been arduous moments and moments of ruminating rambling. In the last forest patch with the steep slopes I’m virtually alone for a few minutes and it’s a bit unnerving but then isn’t this the ultimate ending?

Calling it just a trek would be selling it short. Coming up next- the adventure it was and the people I met along the way….we were all walking each other home.

Fact File–

1.Kashmir is an adventure. Period.

2. The hamlet of Aru which about 3 hours from Srinagar is the jumping off point for the trek. Everyone reaches the night before commencing the trek.

3.There are a few trekking groups which do Tarsar Marsar and they do organize pick up and drops from Srinagar. But do check where you are being put up at Aru. There are limited options.

4.Give cushion time for the return flight.

5.I went in first week of September and the sun was strong and the nights cold but not bitterly. Temperature range was 5-15 degree Celsius.

6.Its all about the shoes, shoes, shoes! I saw someone trying to break in a pair. What a bad idea!