The Great Lakes Trek- Kashmir

Kashmir. The paradise riddled in disputes and terror. I had the idea of it bogged down in distress since childhood. The first imagery I remember is from the movie Roja. Entangled in politics and terror, the movie shows a paradise torn apart in violence. The decision to do the Great Lakes Trek from Sonamarg to Naranag for 8 days took quite a bit of convincing to calm my worried family. The news was showing up bad weather ranging from heavy rains to landslides to militant encounters in the Shopian, Anantnag sectors. The cab drive from Srinagar airport to Sonamarg was my only keyhole to civilisation. Beyond Sonamarg there is hardly anything man-made.As the cab rolled its way through the city of Srinagar, the presence of the army became more and more obvious. Within an interval of minutes I could see soldiers armed to the teeth with protective gear standing in offensive positions, glaring at every passing car or onlooker. That went on for some time. Groups of Soldiers deployed at very short distances vigilantly watching over created a vibe of something that was about to erupt. The feeling is uneasy. You get shook by the mere presence of such hostility in a normal city where people are buying things and children are going to school. Soon enough I saw graffiti ranging from “Azad Kashmir “to “Go back India”. Each of which were systematically stricken out or blackened. It felt like a game going on of marking and cleansing the streets with flammable propaganda. Security forces were present till we reached Sonamarg. Some stood on top of small shops, some amidst trees, some in fields. The first campsite was in a valley and after brief introductions and all the related hullabaloo we resumed to the tents and wrapped ourselves in the sleeping bags clueless of what lied ahead of us.

The morning started with packing, gearing, eating to just get going on the trail that left civilisation behind. The winding road took us into meadows that stretched as far as the valleys ran through. Maple and pine trees watching over us inching ahead. A meadow that keeps itself perfect with no one tending it, trimming it or taking it. Ways taking me to places I have never seen before. It started getting harder by the hour. Sonamarg was disappearing behind me with each step forward. The walk that brewed some kind of deep angst riddled with thrill inside of me. I felt good. Children ran around in groups from nearby villages asking for money, cookies or even bananas. My mate lost his bunch of bananas to a boy who ran like the wind grabbing them from his unhinged backpack. Some got tired. Some felt cramps. Some just paced ahead. Electrolytes and protein bars were the snacks we trusted on. Lunch was at a plain lovingly called as the table top by the locals. Afternoon took me into a forest of silver birch trees. All shapes and sizes. All life and breeze. I felt the air flowing in me with each breath. The place had its own vibe enriching the minds and bodies of all who passed through. Huge caves formed deep inside tree trunks . Strange shaped roots and humongous bee hives hinted unhindered flow of life. The place is Shekdur.
The river valley that begins right after the forest trail is Nichnai. The roar of the ever flowing water thronged the entire earth. Far ahead snow clad peaks appeared welcoming/warning us.

The gush of wind was so severe that I felt cold even with 3 layers of clothing. I had to cover my head. Thoughts were vanishing into hollow plastic bags, flying far off of my skull. A brisk walk along the river path led us to another meadow that rolled over to the picture perfect Vishansar lake.Sheep grazed in hoards of hundreds across the pastures. Running without anything to worry, they invaded the landscape. Occasional appearance of guard dogs ensured they were safe from the rare, but sure onslaught of predators. It was possible to take a dip (swim for the brave hearts) in the freezing cold water as the shore appeared shallow and safe.Inspired by the acts of my peers I stripped and took one dip ,then another and one more screaming,shivering, feeling rejuvenated in my bones, all at the same time. we rested stretching in the soothing, setting sun. Drying up and soaking in at the same time. Just the freezing winds owned my spirit that night. I was at 11,500 feet.
The warmth of layered clothes and sleeping bag warmed me up for the next day. Vishansar had to be crossed again. but this time we ascended along its shore line getting to the viewpoint from where it looked even more majestic. It felt like magic. Krishansar lake stretched just beyond the hill after Vishansar. Water bottles were refilled as the mighty Nichnai pass coiled itself in the valley right ahead of us. Trek leaders seemed worried; it appeared it would rain. It was a dusty gravelled horse trail that looked like someone scratched the surface of the mountain with a stick. Deep breath and small steps took care of the business for some time, but then after an hour of continuous torment, a look ahead would shatter all the good spirits as the summit eluded faraway where the glaciers settled in and mocked at puny humans. Each step drained enormous energy. Right aside was stomach churning deep gorge. Loose stones and gravel riddled the already daunting path. Occasional convoys of mules had to be given way. It started drizzling in some time. Panic was visible on everyone’s’ faces as one slip or slide would end up in a colossal disaster. People ahead slowed down and staying idle at those angles weren’t of much help to the knees. It took another hour and half to reach the summit. I paced the last stretch in order to avoid slowing down. The summit at 13750 ft was too much to take in. On both sides it was fairy land. Clouds flowing right through us. Glaciers trickling down to streams. Mighty cliffs standing tall with caps of snow. The trail that we took gleamed in the glory of Vishansar and Krishansar lakes. The path ahead onward the Gatsar twin lakes stretched down like a serpent within the greenery of grass and shrubs as far as eyes could see.

My view was sprinkled with colour burst from all the tiny little flowers that bloomed in the valley. The fields undulated smoothly across the horizon with refreshing streams forming little ponds of clear cold clean water. We were surrounded by the mighty Himalayas erect with sailing clouds and anchored glaciers. It took longer than I anticipated . In some time it started raining and felt like the water weren’t enough to wet the vastness of the landscape that spread all around me.

Shepherd huts appeared like tiny heaps of straw and mud in the unending pastures. These were people from nearby towns who came and reared their cattle till summer lasted . I wondered if they ever felt lonely. People in this part of the world lived a longer life despite the lack of medical facilities or service. Must be the nature. Things that matter the most in cities and towns hardly exist here. Day to day survival is the only thing to focus on. There is no constant race to better the guy next to you. It is all irrelevant.

Gatsar showed itself after a long ardent walk that lasted all morning. It was beautiful. The big, blue, bright body of water taking in more from the glaciers all around it. The lake is said to have a magical pull towards it for anyone who gets too close. The trail filled with colours of freshly bloomed flora sprinkled generously among the clean green meadow. Clouds hung overhead touching the snow capped peaks with streams slithering down into the belly of Gatsar. I must be lucky to be here. Right here, right now, life makes sense. Shepherd huts seemed like a way of life. People resting, reviving in their own pace. After hours of tiring walk, the wind catches up to you, making it difficult to breathe, let alone walk. A friendly army camp verified our ids and supplied us with necessary medicines for the ones aching with minor injuries. It was overwhelming to feel their mettle up close as they were brothers in uniforms risking themselves in this harsh end of world.

The walk went on over rocks, through streams,mush and gravel. Sometimes it was only boulders. There was no trail ahead. We had to manoeuvre ourselves choosing a steady rock to jump on to and carry on. In time the ground gave away to tiny streams all around with icy cold water. Between the mighty hills we pitched out tents again for one more night under the star lit skies.
Like the spirit of the trek, water streamed along the trails we traversed. Occasional hustle and bustle from sheep kept my eyes busy. One wonders how many of them are there in these wide valleys only watched over by a few dogs and men. They all seemed exceedingly jovial and healthy, racing in groups sometimes staring scared at the advent of us, the aliens here. The day offered only pleasantries as it was just a trail walk with pristine scenery all around. Another ascent took ourselves to another peak, only this time it overlooked Gangbal, Nundkol the twin lakes with the divine Harmukh peak standing tall above all the bunches of pure cotton white clouds, shape-shifting and drifting at their own accord.Hypnotised by the magnanimity of the place, all of us sat down and took it all in.

A descent from there for an entire day is what it took to reach our little tarps of blue tents from where we saw it. It took a toll on my knees and ankles. Body screaming in pain, mind rejuvenated with joy, I reached the campsite by evening. Right beside the Nundkol lake, the views all around kept me at peace. Gangbal was at half an hour walk away from NundKol. Both the lakes teeming with life. Trouts rippled along and jumped above the water. Wide pastures extended as far as eyes could see. I took a walk in the direction I felt like to choose and ended up on top of a rock that over looked the valley lush with pines and maples. I ran as far as I pleased and quenched my thirst from the sweet cold river that ran along me. I was alive. Some fresh trout caught by the team was cut up and cooked in the spicy Kerala style curry reminding us about the good food back home. Dinner was served.

The descend to Naranag took a day walking through the forest trail which was mighty pleasing and relaxing to both mind and body. I collected some cones.The forest smelled heavenly with resin of pine. It was a day to glide through all the memories and goodness this trek gave me. Reaching the end I saw cars , buildings and civilisation after a period of 8 days. We all hugged each other with torn skin and wide smiles spread from cheek to cheek. The great lakes trek ended there instilling in me the memories I would relish for days to come.

Kashmir is sure not a war zone for me anymore. It is not a place where people are blood thirsty and conspiring against the government. Sure, there are political unrest and killings, but it will be a crime to just frame this piece of heaven to the negative views perpetuated by the mass media. It belongs to smiling, cordial human beings just like you and me. I sincerely wish Kashmir attains the peace it deserves soon enough.
