Kashmir - No Room for Newspapers

For years, we dreamed of making a family trip to Kashmir. We argued, read avidly about reports on terrorism and looked around for opinions. We finally determined that the propitious time had arrived - Kashmir, the mother of Indian natural beauty, was calling us.

Having 5 days at hand, we left Delhi by train at night, and arrived in Jammu the following morning. My father negotiated with a driver to take us to our much awaited for destination - Srinagar, some 300 km away. Without much hope for reaching by evening, we decided to stay at the Patni Top hillstation for a night, on our way there and back, as the driver informed us that the mountainous route was better to be attacked slowly, during daylight.

We then soon left the hot and sticky city of Jammu, climbing the slopes to reach Srinagar, the summer capital of Jammu & Kashmir. We were greeted by beautiful panoramic views, fresher, nippy breezes and delicious 'Vaishno' dhabhas along the way. I watched in awe as military trucks passed through, carrying sleepy, yet heroic-looking Border Security Force personnel.

We rented our own Boathouse for two nights, in tune with our Kashmiri dream. Watching the microcosm that exists in and around the Dal Lake, particularly amongst the boat house residents, was greatly intriguing. The fact that all goods and services were a mere shikara ride away left me nonplussed. All goods - except for newspapers! Asked why there were no newspapers, our hospitable boathouse owner told us that newspapers played a very small role in their lives - tragedy had become a way of life, and reading about them was of no use.

We visited the gardens and made a trip to Gulmarg, relishing the natural beauty every minute. Horse rides, treks, shikara rides - the utopia had its new followers.

On Wednesday night in our boathouse, we learned of a tragedy. That evening, at the Dal Gate, two tourist buses arriving from Gulmarg had been bombed. We were shopping in Lal Chowk, and had been at the Gate just an hour before. We had spent the day at Gulmarg, no doubt having passed the victims by horseback.

The media was ablaze, and people all over the country were shocked. My sister and extended family desperately tried to reach us. The Gujurat government placed a moratorium on tourists traveling to Kashmir. Yet, we remained unperturbed inside the seemingly peaceful Srinagar, adopting the local fatalistic attitude of accepting tragedy as a part and parcel of life. We continued sight-seeing, trusting in fate and the ever present BSF.

So is Kashmir worth visiting? Yes, it is, despite the news of violence that abounds in the papers.