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Somewhere Over the Rainbow ... a visit to the troubled Vale of Kashmir
Text and photographs: Nilesh Korgaokar
To the north and west, in what was probably Pakistan Occupied Kashmir, snow capped peaks provided a striking backdrop to complete the picture. It struck me -- no explanation is required as to why some intrepid tourists risked kidnapping and worse, to come and appreciate this fabled countryside. Wishing I could live here forever, and realising I may never be able to come here again, I spent two all-too-short days in the bangas. Rarely have I enjoyed the pleasure of doing nothing amongst nature. I mingled with the Bakarwals and envied their carefree, uncomplicated existence. They would spend the whole summer here tending their livestock allowing them to feed and breed, and then go back to their winter homes to return the next summer. They lavished their affection on me. Milk and local products were regularly brought to my doorstep. And only on my repeated insistence did they accept money for their favours. I spent the interlude roaming about the bangas, losing count of the number of flowers that adorned it, sometimes startling a herd of sheep and at other simply enjoying the sight of a calf on its knees greedily nursing at its mother’s teats while she lovingly groomed it. At night the gurgling of the streams and the other sounds of silence would lull me into a dreamless sleep. A few years ago, the government of Kashmir had plans to build a motorable road from Naugam to the Bangas Gali. With the onset of militancy, however, these plans had to be shelved. Knowing the deplorable habits of the average tourists, I shuddered inwardly to think what the road would have done to the bangas. Imagine the harvest of plastic bottles, polythene bags and other litter it would have brought. I strongly wish that such wonderful areas should be kept as inaccessible as possible. I was grateful to have had a chance to visit this beautiful meadow country before the road from Naugam comes up. And I was happy too, to have seen the other side of the vale… a place where only the bleating of sheep and the babbling of brooks disturb the sound of silence
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