Boom Boom Bradford

Boom Boom Bradford

I don’t know how many readers of this article have ever heard of the city ’Bradford’ before. Frankly I had not heard of it seven months back when I came to this city of UK for my professional assignment. But I think most of Indians should have known this city very well. There is a close connection of the city with India. I don’t know the origin of the fashionable name of this city but I am sure it cannot be Brad of Brad Pitt plus Ford of Harrison Ford.

In last fifty years this city received a major influx of migrants from south Asia and majority from Mirpur, Azad Kashmir or Pakistan Kashmir. There is connection of the ‘K’ for Kashmiris from Bradford to Kashmir of India. Even the landscape and the weather of Bradford has close resemblance to Kashmir valley. One more reason for Mirpuri to love this place.The building of ‘Mangla’ dam on the Jhelum River in Mirpur district in second half of 1960s resulted in the displacement of large number of families. England was in dire need of hard working and cheap labourers for its textile mills and infrastructure projects during the same period. The displaced families of Mirpur appeared as golden goose to British government and businessmen. Contractors and architects of the ‘Mangla’ dam who were mainly British, helped them land in England.

The displaced Mirpuris had no choice but to catch that boat of opportunity to England. They worked hard, very hard and over time. Roads, factories and various infrastructure projects of UK were fuelled by the sweat and blood of Mirpuri. The trove of confused unskilled workers who came in 1960s in England now has their third generation thriving confidently and comfortably here. The new generation of British Mirpuri speaks English in typical British accent but has no hesitation to flaunt their long beards too. I have seen lots of Indian Muslims keeping long beard and skull caps but not much of younger generation of the community doing the same. You will be surprised to see the rigorous following of Muslim tradition in Bradford if you had imagined UK as an ultra-modern, a fashionable cosmopolitan country. Muslim women old or young, clad in full hijab and handling four to five kids is a common sight in Bradford. Children dressed in black or green dresses going to mosques on Friday is another common sight. If you don’t speak even Basic English and has somehow landed in Bradford, you need not to worry. You have landed in just a perfect place. You can easily survive in Bradford with your knowledge of Urdu or Hindi as every fourth person on the street knows that language. If you miss your ‘desi’ commodities outside Indian subcontinent, relax and visit any ‘desi’ general store mostly owned by British Mirpuri same like Gujrati Patel of US. You can easily get mustard oil, pressure cooker, haldiram bhujiya, ‘desi’ mango pickle and even Parle G biscuits.

Bollywood and British cinema owners are also aware of the sizeable presence of this community who like any south Asian loves Hindi movies. 

Cineworld, one of the multiplexes giant of UK keeps at least half of its screens for Bollywood movies in Bradford. Bollywood stars are also forced to do promotion of their movies in Bradford to have healthy earnings from overseas. Recently stars like Ranveer Singh, Vani Kapoor came to Bradford very near to my residential place for the promotion of their movie, ‘Befikre’. Restaurants with the name of Akbar, Mughal, Jinnah, Lahore etc. and general stores with the name Burhwani, Khana Peena, Apna Store etc. can be easily seen in Bradford. The community which came to Bradford due to flooding of their houses in Mirpur has left no stone unturned to flood it with their booming population. You visit any maternity ward of Bradford and can easily understand the meaning of ‘population explosion’. Educated or uneducated, rich or poor British Mirpuri is having all the fun having kids and lots of kids here. Most of them already have at least four to five kids and if not they are in pipeline to touch the target where target can be double digits too. Completely aware of this craze for having kids, lots of kids, the NHS (national healthcare services) of Britain has hired Urdu or Punjabi translators in their maternity wards to deal with British Mirpuri mothers and their relatives.

Due to soaring inflation, hectic lifestyles and many more other reasons in Indian subcontinent, people are scared to have more than two kids but things look completely different in Bradford. Somewhere Mirpuri feel it as their birth right to claim each and every British resource. There can be genetic reasons for this claim. British too had left nothing to exploit the rich and valuable material and human resources of Indian subcontinent during their colonial rule seventy years back. Mirpuris are just reminding them the seventy year old chapter. Having large brood of children is the new status symbol in UK especially in Bradford. The demography is changing rapidly in Bradford and so is the colour from more milk to more coffee. Oblivious of any stats, much discussed Brexit or future repercussions; Bradford is booming and bubbling with its new generation of British Mirpuri having British accent and long black beard.

Blue Tent Dwellers

Winter was at its zenith in Delhi on 31st Dec night. I was returning from Noida to Delhi in my office bus. I saw a few blue colored polyethylene tents on roadside and flames coming from cooking stoves. Soon I realized that those tents were occupied and the dwellers inside were cooking food for their last dinner of the year and of course, the decade. At that night, when most of the readers of this article were in celebration mood, those people were not sure whether they would brave chilly winter winds of Delhi and would be alive to welcome the new year.

Sensitive nerves of my brain were jolted. We feel the fiery winter bite even though we are well protected by cemented walls of our rooms and ensconced inside our ‘Cosy Korean Blankets’. But these people on pavements give an open challenge to the tingling winds of January. And in their armour, you can find just a few blue polythene sheets, a couple of dilapidated blankets and semi filled stomach with negligible nutrient contents.

Why this contrast of destiny to citizens of the same city? Why?

In another scenario, on the very next day, the auspicious 1st January 2010, I went to meet my sister who also lives in Delhi with her husband and their four years old daughter. I was touched by their concern to protect their child from cold though she was fully covered by woolen clothes from ‘Monkey Cap’ at head to ‘Woolen Socks’ on feet. It is natural for parents to take extra care of their babies in winter. So after spending two full days there, I was returning to my place by Blue Line bus, the famous ‘Killer on Delhi Roads’. The drizzle had added more woes to commuters who were already struggling with the densest fog of the season.

Oblivious of the plight of bus driver and unfazed of inhospitable weather conditions outside, I was making full use of my window seat. I was peeping into the modern beauty of Delhi. Then at a traffic signal, I saw a girl who was probably five years old. She was holding a circular ring to show her acrobatic skills. She was begging for money from a biker with two pillion riders in front of the Police though our Government has banned the act of begging. Begging scenes like this at traffic signals are not unusual in Delhi. But what jolted my sensitive nerves again, were her bare feet. The five year old was standing barefooted on the rain soaked road in such chilly winter evening. I was deeply shocked to see this pitiful condition. Many thoughts crossed my mind like if she was insulated from cold, if cold has different levels of impact on different people?

But the most contrasting and ironical were the two pairs of feet, one of which was of my niece whose feet were under constant caring eyes of her parents, who were not letting her step out of the blanket without her socks. And the other one was the girl on wet street whose feet were bare. Her parents were not at all concerned whether she was wearing anything on her feet,she was feeling cold or hot. Their only concern was to count the money she would beg after showing her acrobatic skills to commuters at traffic signals.

Why such an extreme contrast of destiny to kids of same age group? Is it just because one is born to a well-to-do family and the other to seasoned beggars?

Though these kids are born to destitute parents and are compelled to beg at such a tender age, our Government or We as human can not ensure a better childhood to them. Can’t the Police prevent these parents from forcing their kids into begging? Can’t we ensure them the minimal needs of their childhood? Though dwellers of blue tents are born with pitiful fates, can Government or we as fellow citizens of the same country bring some better viable accommodation to those people for whom winter is nothing but a curse and the New Year is nothing but just another day to survive.

I wish I won’t see such dismal and disheartening conditions of our kids at traffic signals on next new year.

Unravelling Kejriwal the politician

Political Science is just a subject but politics is a different planet in itself. Political science is the science of politics, but when you enter into the arena of politics, all your literary knowledge evaporates and what comes handy is your adaptability. Adaptability is the key to survive in politics. In politics it does not matter how many degrees you hold or how many programming languages you know or how many journals you published. If you know the psyche of common mass that ‘really’ votes then you are fit for politics; rest is myth with an exception of dynasty.

In India we have seen many erudite and highly educated people to falter in politics. Whereas many school drop outs turned out to be king makers in politics. Dr. Manmohan Singh could not win a single Lok Sabha election. Mr. Arun

Jaitley could not debut his Lok Sabha even though Modi’s wave blowing in his favor. Mr. Mulayam Singh, a onetime wrestler still managed to win from two seats defeating Modi’s tsunami. All of us are aware of Dr. Manmohan Singh and Mr. Arun Jaitley educational qualification and vast experience in public life but winning elections remained a distant dream for them.  They are just examples. There are many such cases. We very often hear hues and cries that good and educated people are not joining politics and those who join it could not win elections. Have you thought why?

But there is an exception. When Mr. Kejriwal miraculously became chief minister of Delhi in 2013, many people were happy that a well-educated person had become the chief minister. At the same time there were many who raised pertinent questions on freebies announced in his election manifesto. People were surprised how a qualified person could bestow freebies to gain cheap popularity. His statements to appease minorities like Muslims, Sikhs also did not go well with the major section of educated middle class majority. He spewed venoms against major political and corporate personalities which took many people aback. At the same time it also sent signals to a major chunk of voters that there was an educated man who also dared to fight and that too vigorously. People love to adore such leaders. They always look for ‘messiah’, who can protect them, help them fulfil their dreams.

There is a major section of voters who don’t understand and give a damn to the nitty gritty of economics or politics or foreign diplomacy but want a little savings in their monthly budget. They are completely convinced that politicians fight elections to fulfill their dreams and fill their bank accounts nothing to do with the aspirations of voters. If any of the leaders help them make a small savings and give them discount on their basic necessities then that is more than enough for them. They are more than happy to see slashed water and electricity bills and get cheap rice and wheat. Many stalwarts were defeated due to rising prices of onions. In Tamilnadu, the political parties which announce more freebies get into power.

Mr. Kejriwal being a good and laborious student studied politics very closely over years. He keenly observed political dynamics from Bihar to Tamilnadu, from secular to communal, from victim to accused. His studies reflect in his attires, his maneuvers and his statements. The adoption of untucked half sleeve shirt and loose trousers was to resemble a commoner. He had no problem being called ‘muffler man’. I have not seen a well to do person or a high rank bureaucrat wrapping muffler in Delhi even in harsh winter. But we can see rickshaw pullers, laborers or auto drivers using mufflers in winter in Delhi. He had no hesitation wrapping muffler because politics is not a fashion world especially for beginners. You need to look, behave and talk like your voters. He had a clear objective to succeed in politics and he had no qualms even to sleep on road with muffler and quilt with the condition of shutterbugs of cameras keep on flashing.This is called thirst, the fire in belly to achieve something by hook or by crook. He did not only adopt a commoner attire, he started talking like delhites too with the use of ‘haan ji’ after every line, calling ‘America’ as ‘Amrica’ with a pinch of aggression towards the lethargic and corrupt system. He made all efforts to remain in everyday headlines and moot point of the news hour. He did not bother to challenge the mighty Ambani and SPG guarded Robert Vadra. It was true that not all his tricks went well. He had to apologies, rollback his own statements, make back room compromises like a shrewd politician. Despite all these U turns, his magic had overawed his supporters and they became his stout supporters online or offline. He made himself the amalgam of Laloo’s rustic politics, Karunanidhi’s freebies, Mulayam’s secular card and Mamta’s tantrums. He rightly judged the mood of people against the large scale corruption and policy paralyzed govt. of Dr. Manmohan Singh. His well-oiled network of lawyers, social workers, leuteny’s intellects, media and social media at large helped him pursuing his political ambition which is nothing less than the PM post. Within a short span of three years of establishment of his political party, he became twice the chief minister of a small but very important state of Delhi without being son of Gandhi’s or Yadav’s. His party got four Lok Sabha MPs too.

It’s a spectacular political progress for an educated person having no political background. He made people dreamt of a utopian system without the dirt of corruption or coterie. He made people believe ‘lokpal’ as panacea which turned out to be a placebo. He has not implemented ‘lokpal’ so far in Delhi which was his ‘chariot’ to power in Delhi. A good section of people specially educated middle class majority community got disenchanted from him due to his maverick and blame game politics. They found him just another politician in hurry, to get the highest powerful post in the country. But there are reasons behind his all tantrums. He has to dribble the ball of politics between set and regular players who are big enough to swallow any novice fish in the pond. His playing skills were innovative, aggressive and appealing to the audience which took big players by surprise. He made those players mend their ways and play according to new rules which were somehow set by him. His audacity to target ‘big bulls’ and show himself a victim was a well taught plan to survive and excel in politics. In war or politics if you challenge the mightiest warrior, no matter you win or lose, you become martyr. Anyone can now guess why his every second statement mentions Mr. Modi after 2014 general elections and Mrs. Sheila Dikshit before Delhi elections.

Whether you like him or like to hate him, you have to accept that an educated person has finally learnt the dynamics of politics and that too in a very political way.

He is on the prowl to nibble political bits.  

इंसानियत की लाज रख

इंसानियत की भी कुछ लाज रख

एक नासमझ ने मंदिर पर पत्थर फेंका ,
और सारे समझदार लड़ पड़े ।
एक चिंगारी न सुलगी , यहाँ अँगारे भड़क उठे ॥

धर्म के कुछ ठेकेदार इधर थे तो कुछ उधर भी ,
मरने वाले कुछ तिलक वाले थे तो कुछ ताबीज़ वाले भी ।
झगड़े की नींव रखने वाला कोई शीश महल वाला था ,
पर घर जला उसका जिसका झोपड़ा बेहाल था ।।















मुश्किल है लबो पर शहद की जुम्बिश
पर  जहरीले तीर तो न रख ।
माना खुदा बड़ी चीज़ है बन्दे ,
पर इंसानियत की भी कुछ लाज रख ॥

नोट -- कृति धर्मपरायण ब्राह्मण द्वारा

Don't Give Up

HOPE

There are many magical four letter words. Love, life, pain, gain, hope are few of the strongest words found in the English dictionary. Though all the above words are interdependent and very powerful but I will pick “Hope” in this article. As long as you have hope, you are living. If hope ceases to exist in your life then you may be breathing but you are not living in reality. God is nothing but hope. It’s such a kind of hope that exists even though you have gone hopeless. When there is no one to give you hope, there is this biggest source of hope and ironically you cannot even see this great source of hope, the god. When you are in deep mess or trapped in a pitch dark tunnel, you look for way out and you strive because there is a ray of hope in your eyes and your heart beats for a better tomorrow.

I ‘hope’ most of the readers of this article must have watched the movie ‘castaway’. The actor Tom Hank’s plane got crashed and he was swept away to an isolated island. There were no traces of existence of human race in the island. The life was almost an end for him but he had hoped to survive and had dreamt to meet his dear ones again. The soccer ball ‘Wilson’ became his companion and source of hope and it finally helped him to survive. Someone has rightly said” hope anchors the soul”. All the great achievements in the history came only when the achiever had hoped to accomplish it. In the last decade, all the major elections were won by political parties which were able to give hope to the common mass. The parties which kept on criticizing the ruling party or other rival parties without any vision for the mass were defeated massively. It’s innate psyche of public to look for a better future, look for hope. The general public always looks for ‘heroes’ who can give them hope and one of few such heroes will be revered as ‘god’.

Have you ever thought why the religious gurus have such a strong fan following? How come gurus or modern day ‘babas’ have so much hold on the common people? Why and how? There may be many factors but hope is the strongest one for such a mass following. Gurus may be clueless about the real problems of the disciple but they can recommend heavy dose of ‘hope’ which really does miracle. This heavy dose sometimes becomes more effective than medicinal doses of doctors. Even a simple but genuine statement like ‘you will get it’ brightens the hope inside the person. The hope infuses flow of positive energy in the body and thus inspires the “Karma”. Even person with high caliber sometimes fail to realize his true potential if he runs out of hope. We all know the famous story of lord Hanuman and astute Jaambandh. Lord Hanuman forgot his true potential and wondered how to cross the ocean to meet Sita. Jaambandh made a timely entry and realized the lord about his true potential and gave him much required quantum of hope to succeed. 

The recent case of martyred soldier Hanumanthapa in Kargil is a classic case of miraculous hope. The survival of the soldier buried under the deep layers of snow for ten days was nothing sort of miracle. There must be elements of hope inside the brave soldier which had kept him alive for ten days. Only those communities or civilization had progressed or taken great strides which had hoped for a better tomorrow. Indian freedom fighters had dreamt of a shackle free ‘Bharat Mata’ and their karma made the dream possible. Poet Iqbal had dreamt of a separate Islamic country, Pakistan and karma of his followers made his dream feasible.

A recent study revealed that candidates who appeared for interview and had even false hope of success had better chance of clearing the interview. Hope is not only a powerful word but a powerful theme of life which can challenge difficult obstacles and hardships in the pursuit of happiness and for a better tomorrow.

अंतहीन दौड़

अंतहीन दौड़

हम कहाँ जा रहे हैं , कहाँ भाग रहे हैं ,
बदहवास किसके पीछे ,ये कौन सी कस्तूरी है ,
जिसने इस विवेकशील मनुष्य को मृग बना दिया ,
न कोई ओर है, न कोई छोर ॥

अटल सत्य, समय से स्पर्धा करते है ,
गिरते हैं ,उठते हैं ,दौड़ते हैं ।
दौड़ निरंतर जारी रखते हैं ,
अनियंत्रित,असंख्य इच्छाएं उबाल लेते रहते हैं ।।

तो इसमें बुराई क्या है
 इच्छाओं  की पूर्ति करना क्या ख़राब है ।
समय की रफ़्तार पकड़ना क्या गुनाह है ,
अरमानों की उड़ान भरना क्या गलत है ।।

कदाचित इसमें कोई खोट नहीं है ,
लेकिन गलत है संवेदनशून्य हो जाना ।
दूसरे के दुःखो से मुँह फेर लेना,
किसी असहाय को इसके हाल पर छोड़ देना ॥

क्या अंत है इस अंतहीन दौड़ का ,
क्या हम कभी थक के बैठेंगे और सोचेंगे ।
हमने इस दौड़ में कितनों को रौंदा ,
कितनी धूल उड़ाई ,कितने कुचले गए हमारे ठोकरों से ॥

कृत  -- कुणाल

Firdous-e- Kashmir

Firdous-e- Kashmir

I have grown up watching movies in which most of their hit romantic songs were filmed in lush green Kashmir valley. During my school days, I had read the famous lines by Jahangir about the paradise on earth, Kashmir. I had a very strong desire to visit Kashmir since my childhood and to see the paradise while I am alive. But whenever I expressed my desire to visit it, my family was terrified. They thought it could not be a strong desire; it should be only the ‘last desire’.

In last ten years, I got chance to travel to 14 Indian states and 6 US states. I went closer to Kashmir twice but could not hug it as I returned back from Jammu after paying obeisance at the Vaishno Devi shrine. I had wished to go to Kashmir for my honeymoon. But that wish could not materialize as my wedding dates got postponed and I had to cancel my flights to Srinagar. But if you have a desire and that too a strong one, then the whole world tries to help you to achieve it. Sep, 2014 proved to be the worst month for Kashmiris in their recent history after the exodus of Kashmiri Pundits from Kashmir. Around 80% of Kashmir was submerged due to flood waters of Jhelum. At the same period, I came to know of ‘Spicejet’ cheap domestic air tickets offer. My strong old desire started jumping again. The low fares from Delhi to Srinagar helped me to book the advanced tickets, seven months before the actual date of departure. An alert signal was dissipated to my family. News of terror, floods and flurry of family concerns started to rock me. But I stood firm and so was my wife.

Finally the month of excitement and expectations came. I started searching hotels and places to visit near Srinagar. But with just ten days to travel, news of flash floods and terror again started making news in various national channels. The release of separatist leader Masrat Alam had made Kashmir’s ambience vitriolic.

Family members not only on my side but my wife side too, were worried about our upcoming almost ‘suicidal’ journey. But I was optimistic as well as strongly committed for the journey. The ‘D’ day came and we boarded our flight to travel to the paradise. We landed at Srinagar airport which was not a big one but a chilled one. The water was cold and air was chilling. The feeling of insecurity and uneasiness gripped us once we came out of airport. The roads were deserted amid heavy deployment of security forces. The separatist leaders had called for ‘bandh’ to protest the arrest of Masrat Alam.  Gun totting security personnel were at every hundred meters. A sense of fear gripped us as if something was wrong in the place. We were getting a kind of negative vibes.  Talking to the middle aged driver of our cab, we got some glimpses of internal politics of Kashmir.

Finally we reached our hotel situated near Dal Lake. We could see only few faces on the road as well as in the hotel. My wife was scared and uneasy. Twice I went out of hotel to the main road but did not get confidence to move out. We had delicious lunch at the hotel. The lunch gave enough impetus to me to go to the main market and to arrange an auto for sightseeing at areas nearby Dal Lake. At the main market near Dal Lake, I was the only person outside of J&K state. Everyone had eyes on me but it did not deter me to show my bargain skills with auto drivers. After fifteen minutes of vigorous discussion, finally we reached a settlement.

 First on travel list was Shalimar garden. We saw lots of faces there, not only from J&K but from other states too. We were relaxed and happy to see this. Flowers, tall chinar trees dated 300 – 400 years old, fountains and old monuments were the few features of Shalimar garden. But I noticed an interesting thing there. I saw mothers with their daughters having picnic without their husbands or sons. There were many such examples. We were delighted to see them enjoying and hanging out. Nishat garden was not much different although it was an elevated garden and in front of Dal lake. We moved to Tulip garden which is Asia’s biggest Tulip garden. There were tulips of all colors: black, yellow, orange etc. It was much crowded as Tulip festival was going on that time. Then in the evening we landed at Dal Lake. The temptation of taking the Shikara ride was irresistible. As the tourist season had not reached its peak, we got the ride at reasonable cost. It was a plush and cozy double bed floating on the waters of Dal Lake. Soon we realized, there was a kind of township floating above the lake. Sellers pitched in with their goods on boats. They were selling jewelry, spices, fruits, vegetables, Saffron (jafraan in Kashmiri), Kashmiri tea ( Kahwa) etc. Kashmiri grows vegetables on the ‘soil bed’; they had skillfully made over the dal lake. Houseboats are proper hotels. Shops on the dal lakes sell carpets, woolen clothes, shawls, rations, dry fruits etc. After two hours ride on Shikara, we finally came to shore and then to our hotel. We finished the exciting day with the delicious dinner at our hotel.

The weather was pleasant next morning. It was a big relief from the sultry heat of Delhi. The rear windows of our hotel room opened to the beautiful sight of clouds covered mountains and sun coming out behind them. I took the opportunity to see how Kashmiris start their morning. I came out of hotel and started strolling on the road. I found mid aged women taking their morning walk but with their heads covered with scarf always. The influence of Islamic culture is palpable at every place. Students from different aged groups mainly girls were waiting for their school buses outside their houses. It was a good omen for the future of Kashmir as girls have started going to school. I moved few meters ahead and reached the market. Few shops had opened. Vegetable shops were also selling a special kind of bread. I saw people taking breads from them. I asked the shopkeeper, the reason behind the popularity of the bread. He said that the local people used to eat bread with their morning tea. I also took two pieces of bread which look similar to crispy salty tandoori roti and tasted it with tea. It had a different but good taste.

Suddenly the weather took the turn and it started to rain. We had to curtail our planned visit of the day. We visited ‘Shankaracharya Temple’ where Adi Shankaracharya got ‘darshan’ of lord Shiva. There was a small cave like structure where Shankaracharya meditated around five hundred years back. Photography is strictly prohibited near the temple. It was one of the very few prominent temples at the valley. One could get bird’s eye view of Srinagar from the top of the Shanakaracharya hill. Next we reached chasme shahi, a garden on similar lines as Shalimar and Nishat garden. There was a natural fountain. During summer, it gives cold water and hot water in winter. The water of fountain is considered to have medicinal properties and it is good for digestive system of human body. Pundit Nehru is believed to consume the water from Chasme Shahi. The incessant rain forced us to settle down in hotel room for rest of the day and to enjoy ‘pyaz pakoda’ with tea.

I had already spent two days in Kashmir but had not got the nature’s heavy dose so far. The gardens were ok but they had not the potential to quench my thirst for nature’s beauty. I had not Kashmir just to see few gardens. After having discussion with the hotel manager, we decided to go to Pahalgam next morning. Our driver Nisar was well versed with the areas of valley. We started on our most hopeful journey. Our vehicle crossed the most controversial chowk of India, the lal chowk of Srinagar. We had heard a lot about the place, the masked youth pelting stones at security forces, protests etc. But thankfully there was nothing such thing except heavy traffic jam due to poor road and infrastructure partially destroyed by floods and partially by huge corruption prevailing in the valley. Moving few kilometers ahead, we saw ruins of Awantipura, once a kingdom built by an Oriya king, Awantipur Barman. The kingdom is believed to be remained buried under the debris after a devastating earthquake destroyed the kingdom around six hundred years back. The British are believed to have discovered it in 1920s. The ruins were still able to depict the old marvel of architecture and sculpture. Keeping the ruins under our memory layers, we moved ahead. We got opportunity to see battery of willow factories on our way to Pahalgam. Kashmir is the biggest supplier of willow bats to other parts of the country. I hope great batsman might also come from Kashmir. Few kilometers ahead were fields of saffron ( Zaffran ) at Pampore. Kashmir is believed to grow world’s best saffron in the world. Shopkeepers adjacent to fields gave us demo how to find out the difference between original and fake saffron. We were delighted to find that precious knowledge.

Finally we reached the Pahalgam district. The district is bestowed with god’s special blessings. The stream of cold water was coming from hills after the melting of snow. The stream was flowing over white and smooth stone boulders. The fields of yellow mustard adjacent to stream and lining of pine trees at the back of fields gave a picture perfect shot. It was almost what I could have dreamt of natural beauty. No tranquilizer can be more effective than nature’s beauty dose. It was difficult for me to say anything or even to move away from such a great sight. Few kilometers ahead were Baisaran foothills. Cars did not go up after that. We had to take pony to go to hill tops. It was a very costly deal despite it was just the start of tourist season. One person was handling two ponies. We were little scared the way pony was taking us through the edges of hills. But soon we realized they were trained and well aware of the hilly terrains. Talking to pony handler was a good fun. They work really hard but the pony owners don’t pay them properly. Exploitation of such people was rampant in Kashmir. There were five spots to be covered under the deal. There were crystal clear streams, top view of Pahalgam, snow covered hills etc. Finally we reached the star attraction of Baisaran hills, the mini Switzerland. It was really a grand sight. Lush green curvy landscapes circled within the pine trees and behind the pine trees were snow covered mountains. The place deserved the name. We sat there for half an hour and enjoyed the nature’s blessings. With no interest to go back, we started our journey down the hills. The ponies had become friendly to us and we were able to tread them without any resistance from them. With all the memories of pine, stream, snow covered hills, beautiful people, pony rides, plight of pony handlers and many more we came back to our hotel. Tomorrow morning we had to catch our flight back to Delhi. We had to reach Srinagar airport two hours before the actual departure time as there were many layers of security checks. My family was relieved once we reached Delhi but my mind was still wondering in Kashmir and I was thinking about the richness of blood stained Kashmir. Are Kashmir’s most powerful assets making it more vulnerable??