Autumn in Kashmir is like an Ode to Autumn!
Srinagar is a town of gardens, many of which were formally established by the Mughals centuries earlier. The passage of the seasons is best observed in these glorious gardens. However, Altaf took us to Naseem Bagh, a section of Kashmir University campus, with its glorious Chinar stands, without any visitor, before we reached the well-trodden garden trail. It is one of Kashmir’s oldest Mughal gardens, founded by Emperor Akbar in 1586, and you wouldn’t know.
A century back, over one million Chinars were cultivated here by Shah Jahan. Today, approximately 700 are still present with such variety as the creation and sculptural sculpture, interspersed with university departments.
The chinar may have carried into Cashmere by Mughals, enthusiastic gardeners, also known as Old World Sycamore or Oriental Plane. It represents a symbol of the union territory, well, and gives the other famous image, the shikhara, near competition. The chinars are benevolent giants, and you will look at them for hours, awoken by their beauty.
The iconic black marble pavilion from Naseem we moved on to Shalimar, the all-favorite bagh. In preparation for the winter, the water chains became dry. Children were frolicking in the waters the last time we saw it. The gardens were still filled with visitors: photographers and fans, child picnics, tourists from Southern India… Everywhere there were peals of laughter and fun fuss. With his business, the sun had graced us. Altogether, it a beautiful day outside.
The autumn in Kashmir is mainly grey, with chinar leaves dominating. Other trees are undergoing their fall change—for instance, maple—but chinar is dominant. The floor is carpeted in chinar leaves at Nishat Bagh, the magical garden of the 12 terraces on Dal’s bank and gently snuffed under its paws.
In autumn, we romance. But they come to a prosaic end, burnt to make a fine charcoal powder in Kashmir where potentially trillions of chinar leaves fall to the ground every year, which is being used as the top layer for kangri, a portable brazier Kashmiris puts under its physicians for warmth in winter. Up and down, and we’m tired of scaling Chashme Shahi. We chill with an Open Fire on a retreat in the Zabarwan hills. Altaf is a cozy retreat. Some kababs can be taken directly from the sprouts with thin paper lava broth and washed with chai at noon. In the dying embers, we roast chestnuts.
The night is freezing, and the temperature falls under zero that night. Fortunately, for dinner, there is a warm-hearted rajma-chawal, and a bath with hot water is given for Sukoon to swim. It’s not for nothing that you call ‘solace.’ we wake up to the noisy, melodious Himalayan bulbul calling the next morning.
Song of Fire and Ice
Keats named it the season of mists and mellow fertility. A slow-cooked grain and meat grail that is a famous autumn-winter breakfast in downtown Srinagar is harissa—a cousin of Armenian hare and Hyderabadi haleem. In Nawa Kadal, the Next morning, we led a mist to Kong Posh — one of the few remaining authentic harissa joints — to actually witness the mist in the flesh. At our entrance, there was a hungry group of consumers.
The muscular owner sat inside the stove, extracting pieces of harissa from the pot built into the fireplace, tempering it with mustard oil, in an exhibition which shamed the Finster flambé. Harissa is made in Cashmere from rice and lamb legs. The meat and rice are spread over a slow fire over the day and mixed up with a wooden stump until it is a glutinous paste – not an eyepiece of bone – smooth as rose petals.
The rich and warm meal will savor you all day long. That was just as well because we went to Gulmarg. There was some news about snowfall, so we just had to put it on my route. Will winter be far away if autumn is here? And for the price of two seasons? Don’t reply.
Gulmarg lived up to his word in a dense sheet of powdery snow. We were here as a kid for the last time, so it was nostalgic. We intended to reject the guides who ascended as vultures, but the bargain was signed when we had stumbled and landed hard. Then, as ordered, we were sandwiched, photographed, and toured the temple.
The next day, Rain struck, but we stood at our weapons and rode on an excellent road no more than one-year-old as expected to Pahalgam. On the way, before we realized that the kangris had already gone, we could not help but notice the unusual number of pregnant women in the area. Where Gulmarg is compact, Pahalgam has plenty of camping and trekking options, and the merry Lidder flows through it.
We had lunch at the Grand Ol’Pahalgam Hotel on a salmon while Snow fell in soft drifts. It’s time, then. We’re ready to give my Kashmir another goodbye with teary eyes, collecting my souvenirs of the China Leaf in a fatal, crushing hug. Altaf is also an issue in our nth cup of Kahwa in assessing the tourism potential of Kashmir. No other country destination has such a lake as the Dal, he says. You could be skiing within a few hours of arrival at the airport.
Or take a cruise on the Dal by ferry. This was just a fast Delhi train. It takes longer to get to other points in the Himalayas, also taking long drives. Domestic destinations, like Cashmere, receive much interest from Indians, with international journeys at a standstill. For, e.g., in the Gulmarg skiing slopes, all those eager skiers who had fled to Europe in winter are lined. It’s a faultless statement.
