Kashmir: Paradise found

Kashmir has changed, things don’t look the same, everything has a hint of new…This is the caveat that precedes first-time tourists. Good change or bad, may be a contentious topic, but the “change” itself is palpable. It was my first time in paradise, once ravaged by a history of violence and insurgency, buoyed by demands of autonomy and “azaadi”. My introduction to Kashmir (and much of everything else) was through cinema and my parents. The Shammi Kapoor-Sharmila Tagore film, ‘Kashmir ki Kali’ to be more specific, and of course, the Doordarshan serial of the late 1980s, ‘Gul Gulshan Gulfam’ about a Kashmiri family of houseboat owners and their impacted lives caused by a terror attack. The valley has fascinated me for a long time; tied as it was to my present relations and their past. Films and shows came and went, journalism colleagues from the region became friends, but while my curiosity continued, the opportunity to visit never arrived. It was fortuitous therefore, that my Kashmir sojourn happened around the time of the 5th anniversary of the abrogation of Article 370 and just weeks before the imminent Kashmir elections.

Kashmir is a riot of emotions, colours, and tastes; if there’s one word that can do it justice, I’d say that’s “superlative”. The mighty Zabarwan range surrounding the Dal Lake, the breathtaking beauty of the Royal Springs Golf Course, the shikara ride on Nageen Lake flanked by quiet lotuses, floating shops selling everything from papier-mâché and trinkets to seekh tuji. And the food! I thought I had eaten Kashmiri food before but there is simply no comparison with the wazwan that greets the palate. The meats, the spices, the skill of cooking is a delicate art imbued with a kind of legacy that only comes together in that hallowed land. But the most indelible element of my travels were the people — their warmth and hospitality, the respect and sense of care, those unforgettable, piercing light eyes — an almost foreign feeling for a well-heeled traveller like me. Kashmir is India and yet quite different from the majority of us, and I mean it only in the best way possible. The gentleness of the people, their quiet manners, the desire to please, the smiling faces — hide years of trauma and struggle, and yet are able to extend felicity to visitors. It’s also perhaps the only place in India that’s most heavily guarded even during times of peace because who knows when a war will come. It’s where the security forces and the common people seem to have settled into a spirit of mutual accommodation. It's common to see security forces at every few yards either on duty or buying daily rations like the rest of the people.

Kashmir is a storyteller’s dream — because every native resident there has so many different tales to narrate. From the days of European-filled tourists at a ski lodge to discotheques among the mountains, from midnight visits from small-time crooks posing as militants to tragic loss of life caused by real ones, from friends shielding families during peak militancy of 1989-’90 to escaping death thanks to timely warning of a neighbourhood boy, from security forces occupying homes for years and handing over bare carcasses to the owners to the same home being devastated by the floods of 2014. Every family, every home, every person has stories to tell — there just aren’t enough listeners.

As elections return, bringing politics to the fore, one can only hope that it’s the people whose futures assume the centre stage. For far too long, caught in the crossfire, both literal and otherwise, have been the people. Now one can feel the desire for movement — to move away from a painful past and look towards a brighter future filled with potential. In smart cafes operated by stylish youngsters, in the resorts and restaurants of Pahalgam nestled beside the blue waters of Lidder river, in picturesque hotels of Gulmarg under the aegis of the Apharwat Peak — there is a silent hunger for growth, development, and most importantly, peace. The abrogation of Article 370 may not have been a popular move but it’s the loss of statehood that affected the people most. When asked, they say governance was affected when local representation was taken away. And the upcoming elections are a step towards reinstating that normalcy. The youth want productive employment, businesses want sales and profits, dynamic entrepreneurs want to build startups like the rest of the nation. The people don’t want internet blackouts and curfews, they welcome tourists with open arms proudly showcasing their culture. Is this ‘naya Kashmir’? Or an avatar that marries the old with a peaceful new? One thing is definite — the people don’t want to return to an era of bloody unrest, fear, and uncertainty.

The writer is an author and media entrepreneur. Views expressed are personal