“Deewana hua badal,” I hummed along while on the shikara, on the Dal Lake. Anyone would miss the evergreen Shammi Kapoor and the coy Sharmila Tagore, I did!
The tireless splendour of the landscape presents itself anew. The lush meadows, clear cobalt skies and a profusion of myriad hues from apple orchards and gardens make for some of its magic.
Parbaton ke darmiyan hai, jannato ke tarmiyan hai, aaj ke din ham yahan hai.
We were trekking back to civilisation after about eight days in the mountains and had decided to spend a day in Srinagar, the capital city of Kashmir, before heading back to our hometowns.
A sleepy morning greeted us through the mist as we embarked upon a three-hour shikara ride through the Dal Lake. As we sailed through floating vegetable markets and handicraft shops, men and women rippled by. For them, existing atop water was a way of life.
A lazy morning and a lazier sun. It was past 7.30 in the morning, when the first few sun rays shimmered on the lake’s waters.
We sailed into deeper waters to the center of the lake, approaching Char Chinar, the man-made island named after four majestic autumnal chinar trees that stand guard on the four corners of the island.
The best part came now: floating restaurants and floating shikaras selling fruits, dry fruits and pickles – an entire grocery store on boats. Wrapped in a cosy blanket, I was listening to old songs playing on the boatman’s radio. We savoured some hot soupy Maggi ramen, pakodas and Kashmiri kahwa tea, I could not think of a more divine end to such a beautiful morning.
Phoolon ke is gulsitaan se, jaana mushkil hai yahan se. Sathi yeh hamari taqdeer hain, yeh Kashmir hai.
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