The other day my friend Alo
called up from Secunderabad and exclaimed that she and her husband were going
on a trip to Kashmir. She comes from the land of the great Rabindranath Tagore
the Nobel laureate and has the artist in her. Food for her artistic brain and
fingers I thought and before long like Alice in wonderland I was sucked into
the bottomless pit of memories…
My Dad serving in the Indian Army was transferred there much to my grandma’s
horror! (Kashmir has always been a strife ridden province of the Indian union).My
Dad was excited and soon enough he asked us to come and share the Eden on Earth
with him. For this we are so thankful to him. Despite some misgivings from
relatives and friends he thought it was imperative that his family be with him.
My mother a staunch devout of my father with the dictum ‘…not to question why,
but to do …’packed us all up also a family servant (helper) for the big
journey. It was indeed the most interesting and entertaining journey from Poona to Kashmir by train which
was to be our home for a couple of days, with elaborate meals and games. A couple with a baby shared the compartment
with us. Our high spirits spilled over into the compartment. We had our boisterous
talks and laughs busy maneuvering the train. Yes! We shamed the guard by conscientiously
putting out a red sweater of ours to stop the train when it did and waved out
Mum’s scarf to start the train when we heard the whistle blow! If the train
stopped in the wilderness we would stick out our heads to catch the up/down of
the signal. At dusk Mum put a couple of trunks between the two lower berths and
spread out the bedding (hold all) and turned it into a king sized bed, however
my brother and I chose to sleep on the top berth. He insisted on sleeping at
the edge. In the dead of night I woke up
to a sound of thud. My kid brother had fallen off and had missed the sleeping
child by a foot and yet the hysterical mother of his created such a fuss.
Oblivious to all the commotion my brother slept on. Mum tried to appease the
lady and when she did not, Mum gave her a logical piece of her mind. She is a
great one for sound arguments. Most of the time she is of a pleasant
disposition with a smile on her lips and song in her heart, however when she is
ruffled the Scotland yard guys cannot outdo her reasoning. She appeased the
upset mother while she cradled my sleeping brother in her arms who settled in
her warmth with his indigenous pacifier (thumb) in his mouth. He did not wake
up .Can you believe it! From my perch I watched on wide eyed.
When he awoke the following
morning I narrated the great thud of his which nearly squashed the infant by a
foot! He was tickled to an uncontrollable laughter, but refused to believe me
as he had no bruises etc. The day progressed with the monkeying around climbing
berths, swinging from them, continuing the guard’s duty with undiminished
passion and our bid to get our infant sister’s attention. Rosy cheeked like a
cute little doll she kept us enthralled with her movements…her smile, her cry,
her baby prattle, her gurgle, her forever exercising little hands and
feet…
My problem began when we entered
the hilly terrain- for it was here that the tunnels came in. Day time the
lights were switched off in the compartment. To my Mum’s embarrassment and my
brother’s amusement I’d let out a blood curling scream when the train entered
any tunnel, bringing in pitch darkness in our midst. Hurriedly Mum fished out a
torch (flashlight) from the elaborate luggage she had brought along, much to my relief!
After that the tunnels suddenly became the cherry on the icing as I looked
forward to them and enjoyed their internal structure in the circle of the
torchlight! Dusk set in and the lights came up on their own accord in our
compartment. Outside the whole thing seemed a never ending black tunnel. It was
a moonless night. Soon we saw shimmering lights of the Pathankot. Mum informed
us that Dad would be there to receive us. We were elated at the thought that
we’d meet him.
Pathankot station came into view,
it was cold and we did not wave out the red sweater of mine as I was wearing
it. We had to disembark here. We were impatient to get out of the train, a
feeling to jump out on to the station like the adults did, from a slowly moving
train! My mother’s command kept us captive in her view and kept us from walking
to the door. As the train chugged in there was no sign of my Dad. There were coolies
running along the slowing train to fish passengers and assist them with their
luggage for a fee. The kuli(railway-station
luggage carrier) we hired was happy to see our compartment loaded with luggage.
He brought in a huge hand cart and started piling it up the numerous trunks, it
was then that my father strode up and all he said (exclaimed) was as I clearly
remember was ‘Good Lord!’ There was an ensuing argument with Mum about the
phrase travel light! …However he could not remain angry for long as we were all
over him like puppies. He took us to the Officer’s mess where we had a feast
and a comfortable night’s rest. Morning after a king’s breakfast we boarded the
officer’s bus for Srinagar the capital of Jammu and Kashmir. The road journey
unfolded into a most picturesque journey. Somewhere we went through the longest
tunnel the well -lit Jawahar Tunnel. It seemed it was a golden tunnel snaking
on for miles it seemed then.
The curtain opened to our discovering the
places through weekend picnics meticulously planned by Dad .He captured our
happiness with his Leica the German make camera. The Nishatbagh, Shalimarbagh , the Chashma
shahi, the Char Chinar, the Dal lake, the House boats, the Jhelum river, the Poplar Avenue, the Shankrachraya Hill,the
Hazratbal, the apple orchards, mountain springs, monuments …well we were all
over the place! The outpouring of joy
apparent in each photograph!
In the childlike wonder and
amazement I didn't quite realize that I was actually experiencing a once in a
life time experience. Truly it didn't seem a big deal. It was just plain
enjoyment with that feeling that life goes on forever and there’d be more good
things to come!
To be cont…