CMS Tyndale Biscoe ^School

A day in the vale by Jagmohan Sharma

Paradise!? This is not the right word for the place we are watching in front of us. The word Paradise encompasses nothing. It tells us nothing. For no body has seen Paradise. It is all in our mind , in our imagination . It is an illusion. Mathematically speaking it is a null set.

But here we are - watching the one on earth. We watch it unfold its mysteries & splendour that no words can describe ,  no scholar can write nor can any body make it feel. Choicest adjectives fail you to explain the vastness of His Creation . You have to be here to see it.

It is in front of us . We watch it with amazement from the comforts of a Gandola car , in which we are ensconced  and which is gliding us up , slowly but surely , from the meadows of Gulmarg to the heights of Khilanmarg. The meadow is in front of us. True to its name , full of wild flowers. Mostly white & yellow , but there are others with startling hue & colours. Gradual slopes – all green. Rather bright green. We have seen green colours elsewhere , but this green is different. It is soothing , it is an energizing , it is captivating , it gives you a feeling of well being and reassures you about the bounties of nature. He has bestowed us with so many - but only if we could see them. And surely we are seeing them here. We can smell them , we can feel them & they stimulate in us the essence of true life.

We were lucky to be here - this day. It is cloudy - yet sunny. Sun is playing hide & seek. From the height of the Gandola car we can see the shades of green changing rapidly over the vast meadows in front of us - depending upon which patch of it is under the influence of the shadow of cloud. And there are many such patches. It is raining here & sunny there. The sunny portion of the meadow is bristling under the comfortable glow of the sun. The church & the temple in front of us are enjoying the rapid dance of nature too - in its pristine glory. A mosque on the edge of the meadow is adding to the mystique & the aura.

And the path of the Gandola car is through a thick forest. It lumbers up the mountain through one of the greenest stretches of the forest. The steel towers supporting it also add to the beauty of the place as they are neatly constructed . You can see the glittering rays of sun filtering through the green foliage.  Underneath are mud huts – dwellings - of Gujars and Bakarwals , nomadic tribes of the area. Surprisingly their doors are locked. In all probability they are out with their ponies trying to nudge the  visitors to Gulmarag for a ride. For a moment I envy them. I envy them for the place they live in. I am not sure if they know the  immense worth & enchanting beauty of the place they inhabit , for most of the  inhabitants here tend to take such environs for granted. This is a  green place , full of glimmer of hope . And to top it all , a serene & pollution free environment.

The mountain path up the hill is jostling with children of a local school who are on an excursion here. Chirping , running , with haversacks loaded on their backs , some sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree and happy to be there. They wave at us in the Gandola car. Their faces brighten up with  smiles as they feel we had noticed them for we waved back at them.

By this time Gandola car has taken us to our destination. It comes to a halt. And we are in a zone of breathtaking beauty . Mountains on all the three sides. Snow covered peaks gazing down at us . Gazing down at us – we ,  the pygmies in the vast Empire of Nature . And snow only a few hundred meters away .The ground is covered with a carpet of grass. It is a carpet – there are no bushes , no shrubs. A carpet laid out & mended by nature. A carpet laid out by the Hands of God. There are bubbling springs. Touch them and your hands may freeze. So pure that you can drink water gushing out of them. Down below is the meadow - with gentle laid out curves - where sun is still playing hide & seek . The meadow seems to desire to be one with His Glory.

The breeze is cool . It enlivens us up , cajoles us to move on. To move on to the secret vault from where it get its coolness. The trek is inviting. We move on for half an hour and land ourselves on a thick patch of snow. And mind you – this is mid June. It is that time of the year when  temperatures in the plains are touching 45 deg. Celsius.

Journey to Gulmarg itself is an experience. The well laid out road passes through a thick jungle of Deodars & Pine . Newly sprouting leaves of  Deodar offer a different hue of green. They are lighter in shade & absolutely tender than the old ones. From various spots en-route you can view the grandeur of the valley down below. Serpentine nullahs . Fields being prepared by farmers  for sowing of paddy. They look like huge water bodies in which henna is being kneaded. In fact transplantation has already started. Groups of people are working in the fields and being fed by ladies of the family with tea prepared in somawars. They are all in a delightful mood , cherishing the moment & giggling together in a  family get together on the fields , draped in traditional Kashmiri dresses.

But then we have to come back. Come back to our Karam Bhumi. But that was not unless we washed our vehicle in the ice cold waters of the stream on the way from our way back from Gulmarag to Srinagar. It was meant to be a less of washing but more of being with the nature for that extra moment.  That extra moment we would cherish for a long time to come.

We had to come back but not unless we had a shikara ride in the famous Dal Lake.  We were by its side by the evening. Sun was about to set behind the mountains. We took a boat from the banks of the lake and to the rhythm of its paddle landed in Char Chinari. Char Chinari is an island in the lake where four chinar trees provide shade to the visitors. This place provides you a bewitching sight of the Parimahal , fabled to have been built by Dara Shikoh , Shankrachrya Temple ( earlier in the morning we had pinched on the short time available with us and reached Shankracharya Temple where we prayed to God for well being of all humanity ) , Hari Parbat & mountains , named Mahadev & Twin Peaks. The breeze from the lake is refreshing - for the mind & the soul. Lotus & lily plants add to the glory of the lake. Floating gardens can be seen at a distance. A fish splashing here & a king fisher diving there are the natures method of  making its presence felt.

Sound of the paddle , gently driving the shikara to the shore burdens our heart with sorrow. For we are about to leave for the plains. Leaving behind a place which is part of this world but very distinct. A paradise – true to its name &  is no illusion.

2007.09.09. 22:21

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