Meadows of Gulamarg |
We had heard of Gulmarg much before we ever saw it. The name suggested “meadows
of flowers”. A visit to it was, therefore, obligatory. As it was only about 30
miles away it could be done in a day. The bus took us only up to Tangmarg (meaning
a place of pears), then a small town and now a revenue sub-division. Though
known for its pears the place has now strongly come in to grow strawberries. It
is from here the climb for Gulmarg commences. The road to Gulmarg was not till
then motor-able, not even jeep-able. Hence, one had to make it on ponies or
horses. Horses were organized for our parents and we, two brothers, decided to
trek it up to Gulmarg. It was only around 6 or 7 miles away but at an elevation
of more than 9000 ft. We, however, took the short cut and went up the steep
slopes on the tracks that were used by pedestrians – mostly locals.
Although it was supposed to make the distance shorter (I do not have any
idea by how much) it was tough negotiating it. The track ran up the steep hill
through thick pine forests and, using as we did ordinary leather footwear with
leather soles, the fallen pine needles made it tough for us for climbing. Pine
needles are highly slippery and we had to make that extra effort to get
traction on those steep slopes.
Occasionally the track opened up on to the road as it came winding up
the hill where we would also meet on the road others who too were legging it
up. But what stood out were the fantastically beautiful landscapes that met us
every time we came out of the
deep woods - the green hills, the deep valleys and above them the snow-white Pir Panjaal. There were young Westerners who would
hang on for minutes to take in Nature at its best and murmur to themselves
“lovely country”. We would take the road for some distance and again get back
to the track when we found it to be able to reach Gulmarg more or less around
the time our parents reached it on horseback.
The Pir Panjaals |
Huffing and puffing we kept pushing ourselves up and up and a while
later we hit what seemed like an opening in the woods, And, lo and behold, at a
little lower elevation than ours was an incredibly beautiful sight. Huge
expanses of rolling greens on which a few horses happened to be grazing and all
around there seemed to be thick forests of pines. It was an amazingly pastoral
sight that was so fetching. There were hardly any structures around; it was
unqualified Nature, uncluttered by human interference barring a few what looked
like gravel paths, some low wooden fences and a few tiny wooden bridges. Up in
the distance was the majestic range of Pir Panjaal, its whites glistening in
the sun a magnificent sight, in fact idyllic, that is etched in my mind till
this day even after more than fifty years! That is why when I visited Gulmarg
again in 2011 I was terribly disappointed. With the road becoming motor-able,
the place was chockablock with hotels, SUVs and thousands of tourists and,
worse, the greens that had since become patchy. Unrestricted tourism has played
havoc with the place.
Soon we were down on the greens and met up with the parents who were
taken by the men who hired out the horses to a hotel. If my memory serves me
right, it was Neadous, a branch of the one in Srinagar. It was till then a
small outfit given the small number of tourists who would stay overnight at
Gulmarg. We all had tea and then went out for a stroll on the pathways between
expanses of
beautiful green. Very few people were around, some of them being
Westerners who were camping in the huts that were unobtrusive and away from the
greens and, perhaps, were built before independence. One elderly English lady
struck up a conversation with my father. She was delighted to know that he was
a teacher, a professor teaching English. As was the wont of English people,
she, apparently, was going to be there for some time in nature’s lap, perhaps
reminding her of home. It was she who told us that we would be able to see
Nanga Parbat if we were lucky. We were not lucky as it was shrouded in clouds.
Nradous as it was then or a little later |
We could not attempt a trip to Khilanmarg either. It is at more than
11000 ft and we just did not have time as we had to catch the bus back home. On
our way back we stuck to the road, giving a wide berth to the foot tracks
infested with those infernal pine needles.
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Photos: from the Internet
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