The Circle of Life: Chapter 7: Then There Were Two (Leh-Kargil-Srinagar)

I always have a firm faith in one fact: As far as possible, never come down the same way you went up. Taking a different return route always helps to get rid of the depression caused by the approaching end of the trip.
Manu and Gussu left early the next morning for the airport. Having bid them a groggy farewell, Dhar and I decided to abandon the plan to go to Khardung La, the world's highest motorable pass, and catch some of that much needed sleep instead.
It felt weird and somehow depressing that four had turned to two, but we had to get back on time to prove all the naysayers wrong, and thats how Dhar and I approached the next leg of the trip. We spent a very relaxing and quiet day roaming around town and getting our stuff ready. A peaceful lunch at Leh's countless garden cafe's with their lovely clay oven pizzas was just what we needed. Around 3 in the afternoon we boarded our bus to Srinagar, which, if on schedule(we now know that this is NOT a given around these parts) would land us in Srinagar early next morning. Along the way we would cross Lamayuru, Kargil and Dras, some of India's biggest conflict zones nine years back in the Kargil war.
The desert seemed to dominate the scenery as we exited Leh and started our sojourn towards Srinagar(Left,Right: Exiting Leh). Along the way we witnessed the conjunction of the Zanskar and Indus rivers where the mixing of blue and brown waters made for a beautiful spectacle. As we drove along beyond various police check posts, the sun began to set. The sun sets late in the mountains and it was bright even around 8 in the night. The setting sun cast its golden glow on the waters of the Indus, snaking its way through the gorge. Before long, we were crossing Lamayuru which is essentially a monastery town and a quiet place where monks can find their peace.
After Lamayuru it became dark and cold and as I waited for the moon to rise and bathe the mountains in its silver light, Dhar decided to take a nap. After having laboriously crossed Fotu La around ten in the night, we finally arrived at Kargil at around 1 in the morning. As I crossed the main street of Kargil, I could feel the adrenaline pumping as I saw the streets from where reporters would report the scene on the war front in 1999. My copy of Lonely Planet says that Kargil is shelled often from the other side of the Line of Control. That added to the adrenaline rush. At one point we stopped at a tea stall. A river runs right next to the tea stall and a mountain range exists on the other side, the top of which the Line of Control between India and Pakistan. So there we were, at one in the night, four kilometers from the LoC(as the crow flies).(Right:The Zanskar and the Indus meet) I dragged a very sleepy and grumpy Dhar out of the bus to take a photo as a testimony to this event. The feeling of being there quite paralleled the feeling of having walked across the Wahga Border into Pakistan in February last year. After Kargil, I dozed off and missed Dras. The next I opened my eyes, it was nearly sunrise and we were crossing Zoji La pass into the Kashmir valley.
A pass is usually a divide between two regions that are deeply distinct and unconnected. As we crossed Zoji La, we began our transition from the arid, bare mountains of Ladakh to the lush, green mountains of Kashmir. Also began a transition, from relative safety to an unsettling army presence. Down below us on the valley floor was Baltal, one of the camps for the Amarnath Yatra. For as far as the eyes could see, there was a mess of scores of camping tents and cars. A quick call to the worried parents in Delhi from Sonamarg, and we were well on our way to Srinagar. I had visited Srinagar in 2005 from the other side and I was particularly excited about visiting the same places and seeing if they had changed at all.

(Above: Sunset on the Indus, Near Lamayuru, Dhar pointing to the LoC)
It so transpired that we arrived in Srinagar three hours later than the stipulated time, taking the bus journey to about 18 hours. Needless to say, we were exhausted and the hot weather that was new to Srinagar didn't make it very comfortable. This was not the Srinagar I had visited three years ago. We did find a hotel in Lal Chowk (the city centre) which has historically been a very volatile area but has been relatively safe in recent times. However, a trip to the hotel balcony would unnerve even the hardiest. Every nook and corner of the streets below that the eyes could see had an armed personnel guarding it. It felt like a scene from an action movie where everything runs in perfect order but in slow motion just before something goes terribly wrong. This feeling that I couldn't shake off was another thing different from the last time I visited Kashmir.

(Above: Sunrise at Zoji La, The lush Kashmir Valley, Amarnath Camps at Baltal)
We got ready and headed for the grandest meal of our entire trip: the Kashmiri Wazwan. The Wazwan is a 36 course minimum, 60 courses maximum cermonial meal that one can seldom get beyond without bursting from every seam in the body. So was the case this time. We were given seven courses of the Wazwan and by the sixth we were stuffed beyond belief. This is what heaven must feel like! After that sumptuous meal we headed to the Hazratbal Shrine.

Hazratbal is a mosque in old Srinagar which houses a strand of hair from Prophet Mohammad's (PBUH) beard. This ancient relic was the centre of a major controversy in the sixties when it got stolen and threw the valley into a tense state till it was fortunately (albeit mysteriously) discovered a few days later.

A funny incident at Hazratbal is worth recounting. Dhar and I had been on red alert since morning. The unsettling, large army presence was one cause. The parents had also scared us to put us on our guard. As a result we were quite literally on tenter-hooks when the mic at Hazratbal was switched on for the afternoon Azaan. Some electrical disturbance caused the speakers to give off a staccato sound. Dhar and I, already tense, thought a gunfight had started nearby and were almost running for cover when the voice of the muezzin echoed on the speakers! We also realised that the guards hadnt moved an inch! Sheepish and relieved, we finally went into the mosque.

(Above: Hazratbal, Shikara ride to Char Chinar, Destruction of Nishat Bagh, Ice cream saves the day!)
It was my duty of sorts to take Dhar around Srinagar, since I'd been here before. Paucity of both time and money ensured that we could visit only the most important places. After Hazratbal, we took a shikara ride to Char Chinari, which is a small, beautiful island on the Dal Lake with four Chinar trees on the corners. I was quite dismayed to realise that the new, tourist infested Srinagar had also become grotesquely expensive. I was further piqued when we visited the Mughal garden of Nishat. The place was literally teeming with tourists, who couldn't resist the idea of stripping off and jumping into the various fountains in the beautiful garden.

By now, we had pretty much had it with Srinagar. We thought of leaving for Delhi the same night so we could reach Delhi early, but unfortunately or otherwise, there was no bus that could do this. And then we decided to make best of whatever time we had and a nice trip to fantastic Kashmiri bakeries and ice cream parlours near Lal Chowk, seemed to make us forget our chagrin with the place.

At night we had to honour the memory of our departed companions, and hence we played a couple of games of poker(official sport of our trip by now) and then we spent time reminiscing the best moments of our trip before we called it a day.

(Above: Lal Chowk by night)
Tomorrow would be the beginning of the end, the last arc of the circle, the home stretch, but who'd have expected a fight to the finish?