TRAVEL
Stone, Sea, and the Princess of Hope
Scenic vistas of mystic Baluchistan
Prologue
When I sat down to write the response to this prompt by Anne Bonfert, I wanted to write about so many different places — the amazing Grand Canyon, the heavenly Interlaken Valley in Switzerland, the snow-covered Salt Lake City, Utah, and Dubai’s Al Badayer desert.
I, however, chose one of the less sexy destinations — Baluchistan, for I suspect very few people at Globetrotters have laid their eyes on the scenic vistas of the mystic Baluchistan.
Where is Baluchistan?
Baluchistan is a vast swathe of land filled with rocky mountains, sand dunes, and mud volcanoes that encompass Iran and Pakistan. The Iranian part is commonly known as Sistan-Baluchistan. Baluchistan is also known as Pakistan’s answer to Yellowstone National Park, WY, USA.
When Arabian Sea Kisses the Makran Coastal Highway
I was visiting some friends in Karachi, the largest city in Pakistan. I had yearned to visit Baluchistan for quite some time now. The moment I shared my travel plans with my friends, I was met with some skepticism. Some of them were concerned about the logistics of traveling alone on the Makran Coastal Highway, others dissuaded me citing the volatile security situation in Baluchistan.
My desire to drive on the scenic Makran Coastal Highway with the Arabian Sea for company overcame all these apprehensions.
As we left Karachi’s bustling traffic behind, the landscape altered considerably with the rocky mountains rising to one side and the Arabian Sea with all its majesty occupying the other. The snake-like curving road made the drive challenging and hectic. For the most part, I only had the slow-moving truckers for the company — punctuated by motorcycles or SUVs now and then.
As the road rose over the steep mountains, the Arabian Sea played hide and seek, often seeking refuge behind the mountainous terrain. After some time, the blazing sun began to test our patience on the road as the temperature rose to about 110 degrees!
We had no option but to make a pit stop at a small fishing village Kund Malir along the Markran Coastal Highway. The local Baluchis were very hospitable, and we enjoyed lamb Sajji (a local Baluchi cuisine) during our fulfilling lunch at a roadside trucker’s restaurant.
We went for a quick boat ride and a dip in the Arabian Sea to cool down. Kund Malir personified the spirit of Baluchistan — as described by the locals — the place where stone and the sea meet.
Bumping into Baluchis
I went to the beach and played a quick game of Kabbadi — a popular sport — with some Baluchi fishermen. After the game, we sat down under a makeshift shade on the sand and we began talking. They were eager to share stories of Baluchistan with me.
I could tell how proud they were of their ancestry and heritage. I could see a sparkle in their eyes as they began narrating the history of Baluchistan through the ages. Much like the neighboring Arab world, the oral tradition is alive and kicking in Baluchistan. It is also a bit of a necessity since the literacy rate remains low.
They also spoke of their problems — lack of health and education facilities, little to no employment opportunities, and highhanded practices of local Baluch Sardars (Lords). They also spoke of social injustice and hunger — I was amazed at how spirited they were despite rough living conditions and challenging environments. One of them laughed when I posed this question.
“The only thing we have in our lives is hope. How can we lose hope?”
Angelina Jolie’s Princess of Hope
After 20 minutes drive from Kund Malir, the rising mountains began unveiling an inspiring landscape — nature is the best sculptor! Centuries of wind and water action on the terrain had crafted some masterpieces. The most inspiring among them was ‘The Princess of Hope’. Legend has it that it was named by Angelina Jolie, who visited the area in 2002 as a UN goodwill ambassador.
The Princess of Hope stood tall among the rocky terrain, a cape over her head, a shawl draped over her shoulders, and her long gown kissing the soil beneath her feet. Her gaze was transfixed at something in the distance — possibly looking for a bright future for the Baluchis.
The conversation I had just had with the Baluchi fishermen was still ringing in my ears. “How can we lose hope?”
Ormara — A Tale of Two Bays
It was almost nightfall as we reached Ormara — a small town along the Makran coast in Baluchistan. The day-long journey on the road under the scorching sun had taken its toll and we were famished.
The next morning we enjoyed the beautiful view of Ormara Bay from atop the rocky hill. The fishing village lay in the eastern bay, sheltering it from the open ocean. I have not been able to do justice in the photo above, but the view was breathtaking.
Even though the two bays had the same water source — the Arabian Sea — the eastern bay had a green tinge to its water surface. Whereas, the western bay supported a grayish-blue texture reminiscent of the deep ocean.
Just like us humans, the two bays had learned to be special in their own unique ways despite being subjected to similar dwelling conditions.
Ormara Beach was one of the cleanest beaches with the clearest water I have ever seen. I could see the fish and sea turtles swimming in the water. In the absence of a flock of tourists, the beach was preserved in its natural state.
Mysticism personified — Walk at Night
The night brought a sense of calmness and stillness. The surroundings were devoid of any wildlife due to a lack of food resources on the rocky hills. This was as different from urban life as one could imagine. I have been to similar places before but at night you can still hear the wildlife or the chirping of crickets at least.
I could not sleep so I decided to have a moment of solitude outdoors in a vacuum of silence. Our host had urged us not to go outdoors at night for many spirits roam these places at night.
As I stood outside my hotel room and gazed at the half-lit but mostly darkened mountains, I experienced multiple emotions simultaneously.
I felt scared and tiny in front of the tall gloomy mountains. This feeling of fear was soon replaced by melancholy! I heard the mountains sob at their wretched existence devoid of any water or plantation. The simmering light being reflected from the mountains spoke of hope and the Baluchi pride! I heard myself speak, “I feel you and I hear you!”
As I turned around to walk back to my hotel room, I heard a reply from the mountains.
“You know and hear nothing! Just like you cannot see us in our entirety on this gloomy night, you cannot fathom Baluchistan. You think you are wiser about Baluchistan because you spent two days here, ate with us, and played some Kabbadi. You are a fool for you know nothing.”
The mountains were right! There was a lot of learning left for me.
I enjoyed the response by Victoria Hydes to the scenic views prompt.
I also liked reading JoAnn Ryan’s response.
