Lost In Ladakh

As one wanders into his childhood memories, he may recall many incidents and stories and smile. Stories of bunking school and running off to play, of stealing mangoes of the neighbor’s trees, of not doing the homework and then facing the teachers’ punishment. Of these numerous nostalgic moments, one can never ignore the drawings, sketches and the scribbles he used to make as a kid, be it paper or wall or for that matter, his friend’s hand! At that age, the most fascinating landscape was of huge snow-capped mountains; rivers flowing from the valleys, out of the paper; sun shining hard; trees on the river banks; and birds flying high in the sky. The adults used to find these drawings so childish. But I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the same sketch before my eyes as a real landscape. A child’s imagination is God’s vision.

If Jammu & Kashmir is the jeweled crown of India, then Ladakh is certainly the jewel. Ladakh is essentially a cold, high altitude desert due to rain shadows cast by the Great Himalayas. It is, of late, divided into two districts, Leh and Kargil. Our trip and its planning were first conceptualized on Facebook by a friend. One by one, we formed a group of people who were willing to join. For the first couple of months, people kept planning and researching about the area, weather, routes, and reading other blogs but no one actually thought the trip would materialize. To be honest, it wasn't that any of us were not interested, but almost all of us had just graduated and time crunch was going to be a factor. Months came to weeks and weeks to days, rail tickets were booked, taxi fares were finalized and almost all the blogs and articles on bike trips to Ladakh were read, chewed and spit out by a couple of our friends, Aarsh Shah and Abhishek Shah! J

We had chosen to take a train to Jammu, which took 33 hours of a meandering route through almost the whole of the North-western India. And so began our journey from Ahmedabad in the morning, with all the hustle and bustle of a new adventure, interspersed with seat adjustments, tasting food at each station, meeting various people and most essentially, sleeping! In the time we were awake, we witnessed amazing landscapes, long stretches of striking green meadows and farms in Punjab and Haryana. For a north Indian, that might not be such a luring sight, but for us from the drier part of India, it’s a rarity.

By the time we reached Jammu, it was almost 2100 hours and after a lot of debate, we finally stayed put at a religious guest house Saraswati Dham just adjacent to the railway station. It was basically only for the devotees going to Amarnath and it was very cheap so we had to tell them that even we were going for Amarnath yatra. I personally felt no regret in lying. After all, God is not just in temples but in each of us, in the flora and the fauna, in the every particle of dirt and in every gust of the wind. We were provided with 8 beds in a dormitory and it was quite clean, though there were no cupboards with locks available, just the lockers on the ground floor. The sanitary facilities were quite sound but there was no hot water available. So all of us freshened up and went for the dinner downstairs in the dining hall. The dinner was okay, more like a mess, sufficient enough for us and many more devotees. We slept early as we had decided with the taxi driver to leave early at 0400 hours for Srinagar.

Reaching the rendezvous point so early in the morning was quite a task, as we had to hire a couple of autos in the darkness and find our own way, apparently the drivers didn't know the place we were supposed to go. We were joined by the owner of the traveler, Mr. Susheel and his sweet little daughter. After settling the luggage and ourselves, we started sleepily on our way to Srinagar. I was a little skeptical about the owner and his daughter accompanying us, I felt they would slow us down and we were already short of a couple of days. Making just one halt before for tea, the driver of our tempo traveler, Qayyum made good use of the head start and the scanty traffic reached the Patnitop tunnel construction by 0700 hours. This tunnel, India’s longest, called the Chenani-Nashri tunnel will be 9 kms long and will reduce the original distance by 31 kms. We reached the famous Jawahar tunnel near Bannihal by 1200 hours and entered the Kashmir valley. Shortly joined by the river Jhelum, the scenic views just started getting irresistible and all of us were hanging our heads out of the window. After getting a little acquainted, Sai, the little girl opened up and she was so full of energy, it was so infectious that even the sleepiest of us all, Saheb woke up and started playing with her! She really liked watching the Tarak Mehta show and even assigned each of us one character. Yeah but we all knew who Daya was going to be! Time went flying by listening to her constant chirruping. All of us wanted to stop over to take some pictures but Qayyum insisted we stay on the road because there maybe landslides or rain after Srinagar which may disrupt our schedule of reaching at least Kargil before nightfall. It was very essential we reach Kargil or Drass by night in order to reach Leh the next day. I was really inclined to reach Kargil by tonight, so every time my friends got down clicking pictures, I, annoyingly enough, hurriedly called out to them to get in.

After being tempted by icy blue waters of the river and the jaw dropping landscapes around us, we reached Avantipora by 1330 hours and decided to take a bath in the Jhelum. Everyone was eager to shake off the stiffness in the icy cold waters. One dive into the waters, and we felt as if the waters just froze our blood and the muscles just felt numb. But oh even the sweet pain could not help us from being mesmerized by the beauty around us. The fun and frolic continued for a while until we were ushered out by the driver still worried about not making it on time. So we left and reached Srinagar by 1400 hours. We had a delay of an hour in Srinagar where Sai was to be dropped at a relative’s home. From Srinagar onward, we started encountering more and more snow-capped peaks, and we just couldn't get enough of it. All you can hear in the traveler (except for the agonizingly old songs Qayyum was playing), was the oohs and the aahs from us and the khachaaks from the cameras! Actually there was quite a tussle going on between Qayyum and us over the control of the audio jack! But the order was soon reinstated when we began to cross the Zoji La at 1830 hours. It was surprisingly quite bright outside. We had all read about it, at 11,575 feet, it was the one of the 10 most dangerous roadways in the world. The beauty around us was astounding. Beauty with a little danger always has that added oomph factor. :P The mountains and the crevasses, the valleys and  the gorges, the rivers and the waterfalls, these were what we had imagined. But we hadn't expected to encounter Zoji La, a thrilling masterpiece of Nature and humanity trying to reign over each other. The breathtaking views were enough to rob us of our speech and we decided to let Qayyum to play his songs in exchange for keeping us alive on to the other side of the pass. We had our hearts in the mouth for the rest of the journey, but the excitement and the thrill never subdued. The roads were mostly in good condition and deteriorated in patches, and there were numerous blind turns and one can actually see the base of the mountain from some of turns. It was very surprising to see the usually rash truck drivers giving sides and cooperating with each other on these treacherous roads. Fear of death certainly instills sense in people.

As we moved closer to Drass, darkness was just coming round the corners and the sun was fighting at his valiant best, emitting radiance so vibrant that the whole sky turned a bright orange, as if the sun had lit the whole sky on fire in his spite. Even the snowy-white mountains fluttered the orange flag as a noble tribute to the sun. I clicked photos and kept clicking till I realized no matter how hard I try, THIS cannot be captured. Orange turned to crimson and my eyes just couldn't get enough of the sunset. Who says true beauty lies in Heaven, it lies in the eyes of the observer and in palette of God. After hours of increased heartbeats and unblinking sight, we finally made it to Drass at 2030 surpassing our expectations. Qayyum and Susheel talked to the locals and got us a stay at a decent hotel, Danish Lodge. We freshened up and had a light dinner. The post-dinner fun was quite hilarious and the entire bound up energy was let loose as we ganged up on one of our ‘sleepy friend’. But eventually the night did fall and as sleep called upon us; the lights went off till the next morning when another adventure began.

The next morning we had a proper hot water bath and breakfast and then departed for Leh at 0900 hours. We were informed earlier on that we have to watch out for the Army convoy that passes through Drass every morning to Kargil and Leh. The convoy is basically a long line of Army trucks and vehicles loaded with supplies for the army stationed in the northern borders. So once this convoy of about 25-30 trucks overtakes you, it’s pretty hard to get out of the traffic jams they create with their low speeds up ahead on the steep, narrow roads. Leveraged by good weather and ample sleep, we managed to reach Kargil by 1030 hours, but we raced on to Mulbekh by 1400 hours without any halts. At Mulbekh, we managed to find a large meadow where we cooked curry and rice on our portable stove for lunch. Of course, the locals were kind enough of to lend us matchsticks to light our stove, which we didn't have! :P  So after filling our tummies with the spicy, hot food, we hopped back on by 1600 hours. Evening was looming and the sun was about to put on another spectacular display of chivalry. Just then dark clouds masked the effort and in a snap, it started raining hailstones. Big chunks of ice were just zooming past us as if the sky, like an offended hubby was throwing hailstones at the poor guy, earth. Hands came back bruised with red spots, if held out too long out of the windows. Slowly the anger subsided and melted into tears. About 30 kms from Leh, the road straightened and we finally got a chance to get on top of the Tempo. Chilling winds puffing in our ears, hands holding tight onto the handle bar, head swiveling around to capture the picturesque panoramic view, we really felt free of the world and yet in total control of ourselves. The dark engulfed the day as the earth pacifying, took sky into his arms. By 1930 hours, we reached Leh and were absolutely drained of all the energy. Just while entering Leh, we came across a gigantic Indian flag fluttering in the cool evening breeze and a beautiful statue of Indian soldiers climbing atop the Tiger hill and planting the Indian flag. Patriotism is strange feeling makes you respect the soldiers who guard our borders and at the same time reminds us of the wrath the countries faced in the war. Driving on, we knew that Changzpa Street, the market where one can book bikes, remained open until almost 2100, so half of us decided to look for bikes and the rest for hotels. Now that we have gone through a lot of trouble in booking bikes, I would very strongly suggest anyone to pre-book the bikes. The rates are almost fixed but you can pre-book the type of bikes you want and then choose which model you want from the same category. We were looking to book four Royal Enfield Thunderbirds 350cc but had to settle for four Classic Bullets 350cc. Well, so we finally managed to book three overpriced bikes and one other from a different shop. Off we trudged back to the restaurant, where the rest of the group awaited us after booking two rooms at a Shanti Palace on Old Road. Night fell sullenly and sleep clouded the excitement for the next day.

The next day began with the disheartening news that the guy who was going to provide us with three bikes had backed out. So we were back to square one and again started looking for bikes. Finally, after a long and arduous scavenging session, we managed to put together four bikes from three different shops. By the time, we bought all the supplies, it was almost 1300 hours and we embarked on the bike trip that all of us had always dreamed of. The dampened spirits fall very easily to the brightest of the desires. Realizing that we won’t be able to make it till Tso Moriri the same day, we didn't even care to decide on where we’ll stay for the night, just hopped on and drove on to the petrol pump. But as soon as we hit the roads, the moods switched. Ecstasy was brimming up to the lips and the words just flowed. No one seemed to be able to stop chattering; we all were just imagining the fun and the adventure we are going to have in the next few days. Nothing else seemed to matter except for the roads, the mountains, and the sound of our bikes. High fives were exchanged, tires rolled, engines roared, and spirits flared. We stopped at Karu (50-60 kms) for lunch after an hour. The stomachs were craving for food by then as we hadn't had the chance to eat anything after the previous night. Batteries recharged after the hearty meal, an hour later we rode on to Upshi check post, where we had to get a permit and sign a declaration form. I just felt the roads called out to us, curving and bending, bouncing and slipping, they gave me something I might never forget, self-control. It’s the moment in which I live or die is in my hands. The delusion that fate decides what happens is strikingly so complete and tempting to believe. But I had left it behind, I was living the moment. The road till Upshi is a proper tar road but if one goes a little further, the road deteriorates to a stony, gravel road for a next 15 kms. The road was so bad that in one of our bikes, which was old and a little overloaded, the silencer broke and cracked. For the time being, we tied it up with a rope to the carrier and switched the riders so as to minimize the load on the bike. The road just kept worsening and our pace slackened a lot. The road after that stretch was generally good, just a little rough in patches. The area was mostly deserted except for the few Changpas grazing their herds along the roads. Seeing them, I had this urge to just leave everything behind and approve this nomadic life. What more does one need, beauty, simplicity, happiness, content? I wondered why it was so difficult to break free from the chains of my mundane life, what was holding me back. What strong force was it that it first invoked such thoughts at its mercy and then brutally crushed them? It was fear; fear of love, fear of failure, fear of expectations. It takes up so many forms and yet we do not recognize it. The mighty Indus followed the road, slithering like a snake and roaring like lion, cutting gorges on its way.

We rode on, aware that the swirling clouds and the starry skies were breathing down on our neck. But we had to race them, and hold them off as long as we can. About 1730 hours, we were passing a broad gravelly road. And suddenly the winds picked up, our clothes billowed, bikes swayed, and dust rained. In a moment everything was a just a blurry brown, as we held on tightly to our bikes.

Fate is like a small sandstorm, it blows hither and thither, no matter what direction you go, it chases you. It’s because the storm isn't something that blew in from far away, it is something inside you, a part of you. It is you. So all you can do is give into it, step in, close your eyes and ears and walk through it. There is no sun, no moon, no direction, no sense of time, just the indefinite brown blur. But when you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in.

Making up for the lost time, we continued our journey alongside the Indus, through the night. Sticking together and maintaining constant speeds worked to our benefit and we reached Kiara by 2030 hours. At a small base camp, a group of jawaans told us that Chumathang is an hour’s ride ahead, there we can get accommodation. They told us that not many people travel by night and they’ll be happy to help if we need anything. After assuring them we were good and we needed to reach Chumathang as soon as possible. We stopped mid-way to give our frozen hands a little rest. It was chilly and the winds were quite strong. We parked our bikes at the side and just relaxed and slept on the road. Oh it was such a relief from the pain. Lack of a heat source was making it hard to even rest, and it was then one of our brilliant minds came up with the idea to warm our hands by the burning headlamp of our bikes! :D Every inch of our muscles had gone numb and we just lay on the road watching the magnanimous starry sky and the Milky Way. The roads were in a considerably good condition so we reached there by 2200 hours. After talking to a jawaan at the check post, he led us to small hotel at the center of the army base where we could stay. We got 4 rooms instead of cramming up in 2 or 3, doing justice to our cramped backs and the body pain, knowing that we still had a lot to drive. There was a small restaurant too where we got dal and rice or Maggi. We hogged on to whatever we can put our mouth to. The lights go off at 2300 hours every day, so we settled into our beds by then. Though, Raj and I couldn't resist enjoying the weather for some time, so we sat in the open grounds outside our room barefoot, discussing the trip. It was pitch dark and cold, the moon probably hiding behind one of many gigantic mountains around us, Indus gurgled past us, steam spewing from the many hot water springs beside the river and the sky, the sky was just mesmerizing. Someone had smashed a crystal into millions of pieces, scattering them all over the sky. The Milky Way, prominently visible, was such tiny part of the whole Universe. We are such minions in comparison to this world, yet we fight in the name of a God whose creation’s magnanimity we cannot even imagine. Musings swirled into sleep and soon we were tucked into the comforting warmth of our blankets.

It is so difficult to get out of the bed when it’s chilly outside and you are comfortably cuddled in a blanket. But when you are traveling, you have to leave behind the luxuries. The morning came late, weariness quickly wearing off with excitement slowly showing its colors. The atmosphere was electrifying. The buzz was evident from the constant chatter among us; finally we were going to be at the climax of our trip. Akshay and I were busy fixing bikes, Saheb and Aarsh busy posing for the photographs that Raj was clicking, Abhishek and Anish were busy packing their stuff and loading it on the carriers, while Om was…ummm…wait…yeah he was busy with his sarcastic one-liners! :P After all of us were done, ek group photo toh banta hai! Suddenly no one was worried about being late and everyone was just busy enjoying the feeling of being so close to our destination. We comfortably had breakfast and left Chumathang at 0930 hours after thanking the soldier who had shown us the way to the hotel last night. Soon enough, we reached Mahe Bridge where there was a check post for the permit to go further. Mahe Bridge was just about 20 kms from Chumathang and was a T-shaped junction.

Yaya Tso

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        |------------- Mahe Bridge/Sumdo

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Chumathang

Taking Mahe Bridge, after an hour, we reached the fork just before Sumdo village. This was a Y-shaped junction.

Tso Moriri              Tso Kar/Sumdo

         \                              /
           \                          /

             \                      /

               Mahe Bridge

The roads were in quite good condition considering the weathering they face throughout the year. They were mostly proper tar roads except for patches which were mud roads. But suddenly the roads weren't the problem anymore; the eyes just couldn't rest on the road. The mountains around us were amber like a huge haystack and the Kyagar Tso was in sight, luring us, tempting us with its golden and green shores and its turquoise waters. It was like an appetizer to the grander and even more charming Tso Moriri. Kyagar Tso reflected the sterling mountains in the backdrop in its matte finish waters. We were already drooling at the sight of such serene, stunning beauty. We sat there for some time, a little while later we tried to look for a way to get near the lake because the stones had formed a kind of ridge between the lake and the road. So I went off the road and finally found my way in but a swarm of flying insects like pretty large mosquitoes attacked us as if trying to bar me from going too near to the lake. I waited for a while at the edge of the lake, before going back to pick up my friends. On my way back, I got my bike in a ditch and it just wouldn't budge as the rear tire was completely fixed in the ditch. Finally with the help of Akshay and Abhishek, we pulled it out, huffing-puffing with all the effort. The air was really thin there and we decided to get a move on instead of getting close to the lake after the ditch episode. Soon the AMS started affecting us and some of us were experiencing severe headache and discomfort. We all had had one tablet of Dimox before leaving Chumathang but I think the climate was too harsh. About half an hour after leaving Kyagar Tso, we came onto another fork with a small memorial built in between. One was a perfect tar road and the other was a mud and gravel road. In the center was a very small signboard, which could be easily missed, directing that the tar road led to Indo-China border and the mud road to Tso Moriri. We had read earlier in some blogs that about a year ago, a group of Indian bikers had taken the tar road by mistake, crossed the border and were caught by the Chinese authorities. So please take care not to take the seemingly obvious road. The mud road was the in the same condition throughout till Tso Moriri and you can hardly make out the outlines of the road. Winding and curving a long way, before we could catch a glimpse of Tso Moriri. Even from a distance, nothing could be more captivating. The pristine blue waters sparkled in sun amidst a line of mountains standing as guards to the treasures behind it. A narrow curvy road on the mountains, winding around the lake from one end to other never seeming end, led us to the Korzok checkpost. AMS and the gravel road had taken its toll on us, severe headaches and back cramps were starting to get us. But the excitement was never so high. We longed to sit at the lake’s gravelly bank and just lose ourselves in the freezing, clear blue waters. The view so charming and lovely and I just couldn't think of anything else apart from just diving into the lake. But we were all really hungry and tired. So we drove up to the check post without halting to take in the views, in the fear of feeling compelled to stay there. After a brief stop at the check post where the permits were verified, we moved on to Korzok and stopped at a small tent-cum-restaurant. The tent was well equipped, with almost all kinds of packed food available and fresh food was also being served. But what we loved, were the comfortable quilts arranged to sit. After torturing our bums for a long 3 hour ride on the gravel road, it was time we offer them some respite. Even the smallest of niceties seem to be luxuries after going through hardships. I guess the people learn the value of small things the hard way. We had a light meal anticipating that the ride back was again going to be bumpy. Having food brought up here would have been a lot of hassle but I think it doesn't validate charging more than double the MRP of the food items by the restaurant. It’s very sad that the tourists are being exploited in such a manner. We rested for a while to let our throbbing heads get normal, meanwhile I finally got the chance to go about my long standing intentions of visiting a local village to click pictures. So I took the liberty and started roaming around in the streets, and meeting the local people. I must stress again on the fact that the natives were really amiable and welcoming, they even showed their homes to me and posed for me to click. Their sun tanned skin, scaled and hardened by toil, gave them such lovely, naturally photogenic faces and infused with colors by their bright dresses. I wish we had more time to interact with them about their lifestyle, Buddhism and traditions. There’s so much to learn from every people, and yet astonishingly, we find ways to hate each other.

We left Tso Moriri at 1730 hours after loitering around the banks of the lake for some time. The sun was disappearing amidst the high outreaches of the land and the darkness was gaining ground. We took one final glance at the imposing view of the lake and humongous mountains standing guard to it. This is what we had traveled for. No matter how much we convinced ourselves that the journey was the sole purpose and that very soon we’ll be back, our hearts wrenched in the sorrow of leaving this place. The road back was equally gritty and rough but we were getting used to that and the fact that we had to reach Chumathang before the nightfall was driving us even more determined. The chase with the dusk continued and it outplayed us in every way. We reached Chumathang at 2100. The group was in a better state than the other day. We had a hearty dinner and hogged onto the last on our plates and then quietly slipped into our rooms and were lulled to sleep by the beautiful gurgling waters of Jhelum flowing past us. That night I wished the cottage didn't have a roof; it would have been the most beautiful night of my life. Countless stars mapped the black canvas in patterns that even the brightest of the cryptographers wouldn't be able to solve. Somewhere the distinctions between the stars in the sky and in my mind grew vague and sleep, heavy.

Until now, we had ridden on with a broken silencer and a loose carrier, but we had a long journey ahead the next morning. So we woke up early, checked our brakes, engines, tightened the carriers, tied up the silencer again and emptied all the petrol cans in the bikes so that there’s less load on the carriers. We were set by 0630 and left early with a little breakfast on the way. We rode on towards Leh with a heavy heart and an unusual silence. That scorching sun, that sparkling blue sky, those ragged roads, those uncanny thunderstorms, the mesmerizing heights, the tranquil lakes, had become our home over the past few days. We had experienced almost everything one can wish for on a Ladakh tour, hailstorm; sandstorm; night driving; crossing Zoji La; broken bikes; and bathing in the pristine cold rivers. But fortunately we had never come across a landslide. Around 1030 that day, we were stopped by a sudden BRO blockade on the road. We were told it was a landslide that occurred last night and that they were clearing it. Surprisingly we were just the second group to be stopped on this side of the landslide. Not much traffic traveled on the roads in the morning I guess. We parked our bikes and sat on the ground waiting for the road to open. The morning sun looked deceivingly gentle and the gushing river flowed past us, birds chirruped and the winds made howling sounds to the unique composition. We had a little breakfast of whatever was left of the food we brought from home. The road became operational in about half an hour (thanks to some beautiful work by BRO), and the engines whirred past the road where yet again humanity had won a battle against Nature. It was about noon and we were about to reach Upshi checkpost on our way back when suddenly my bike’s silencer gave way and rattled off on the road towards the biker behind me. Fortunately it didn't land exactly in his way but a little off the road. It had broken off completely from the point where there was a crack and we were just 70 kms from Leh. We thought that the bike would hold on without the silencer so we just tied the cylinder on the carrier and rode on. But we weren't meant to go ahead smoothly much because in another Classic 350cc, the carrier’s screw came off on one side and it started touching the top end of the silencer. Fearing that this will rip off another silencer we had to take a halt and fix and tie the carrier tightly. The makeshifts arrangements weren't going to last much so we transferred the load to the other bikes. But we soon found out that we still had some trouble in store as my bike stopped completely and wouldn't start. We tried everything possible, starter, ignition wire, spark plug, fuel injection, even pushing the bike up the slopes and running it down, but it was just done with. Without much luck, we tried to get a mechanic from Upshi or Karu on other bikes till the others waited in the scorching heat on the roads, and to our disappointment, the only two mechanics in Karu refused to come down there and take a look at the bike. After about a couple of hours of waiting and discussions, we called the bike renting agency and asked them to send a person to fix the bike and get us out of here as we had to leave for Srinagar that day itself. So after more than an hour, we exchanged bikes with the person who had come from Leh and rode on directly to Leh. We raced on to Leh and reached in an hour. Finishing all the formalities and having a little food took about an hour and we were ready to leave in our taxi by 1800 hours.

The journey back was rather simple and forgetful because we were sleeping most of the time. On our way back, it was almost dusk by the time we reached the outskirts of Leh, Qayyum had decided to cross Zoji La at dawn by driving all night so that we get to stay at Srinagar for a night in the house boat. We had stopped at Nimmu for a little while to have little snacks and then tucked ourselves back in the comfortable warmth of the tempo. It was sometime around 0200 that we heard shouts and we woke up to see what the hullabaloo was about, only to find that the driver and the owner were stealing apricots from an apricot farm in which a tree was looming outside over the road. The farm’s caretaker may have heard the rustle and was pelting stones at them. Half of us had woken up see this drama unfold, bleary-eyed and surprised. It was much like the times when we used pluck mangoes off the neighbors’ trees in our childhood, only that we aren't that young anymore that the neighbor would let us go! The guys got in and put the tempo in full throttle, laughing at the ruckus they left behind. We were crossing Zoji La in the morning when I opened my eyes next. Not every time you get such a high dose of excitement moments after waking up, but such was Zoji La. We crossed it safely enough with Qayyum’s experienced driving and unheard of, old Bollywood qawaalis and reached Sonamarg at about 0900 hours. The driver was so tired that he even took a quite long nap there and its bears no harm if the driver gets some rest after about 10 hours of constant driving on such dangerous roads. We freshened up, and had our breakfasts by then and clicked a few pictures. After about an hour we left and reached Srinagar by 1230 hours. Qayyum took us around Dal Lake and finally showed us to the place where we could go up to the boat houses. The owner had some connections and got us a 2BHK boat house. First look at Srinagar, tells you of the immense wealth it had garnered in its glory, of the tales of Ashoka, of Buddhism, of the Silk Route and of the gardens and the markets in the Mughal rule. Srinagar had retained all the fortunes until 1980-90s, when the uprisings against the military rule started and all the Kashmiri Pandits driven out. Never again after that has the violence ceased, and never again has Srinagar been even a fraction of what it was in its heydays. Srinagar is a like a majestic Queen of a betrayed, beleaguered and forsaken King, whose grace still lingers on and the traces of the infamous charm and beauty still visible. It is very saddening to the see Srinagar and Kashmir Valley like this. That night, we had a little farewell party for ourselves. Enjoying the night view from the lake, we chatted till late, reminiscing old stories and anecdotes. Time flew by and we slept tight. Next morning it was hard to get up and get ready in the cold, misty morning on the lake. Slowly we huddled up in the taxi, which awaited us for our departure. On our way to Jammu, we enjoyed the famous rajma chawal with ghee and anardana chutney and pakodas of freshly made paneer. Over at Jammu we stayed in the same guest house but had a feast at Dominos the last night and slept off nicely in our comfortable beds.

Morning brought us to the end of our trip as we departed for Ahmedabad by the same train. We traveled 4500 kms in 8 days for a 500 kms road trip of 3 days for just Rs. 13000. Do the math, judge us all you want, and do better than us if you can, but we made the most of what we had and what’s best is that we loved it. This was a dream come true for all of us. Call us crazy but we’ll still do it all over again. Never will we forget the fun we had, the difficulties we faced and the pains we took for the joys we wanted. O Mother Nature, we love you. :)

Starring:
Aarsh Shah
Abhishek Shah
Akshay Patel
Anish Kaul
Om Patel
Raj Dhami
Saheb Motiani
Kumar Dattani

Director: Aarsh Shah & Abhishek Shah
Producer: All :P
Pic credits: Raj Dhami & Kumar Dattani
Lyrics: Kumar Dattani

Thank you all and see you soon! :)

Ladakh Photo Album