Although I deeply love oceans, deserts and other wild landscapes, it is only mountains that beckon me with that sort of painful magnetic pull to walk deeper and deeper into their beauty. They keep me continuously wanting to know more, feel more, see more.
Victoria Erickson
I had a dream … almost twelve years ago … of snow-capped mountains … flower-laden vast green valleys … emerald green mountain lakes. I distinctly remember dreaming of god beams lighting up one of the emerald green lakes … the reflection of the rays on the lake almost blinding me. And then I woke up. Streaks of early morning sun peeking through the blinds brought me back to reality … or was I traveling back in time from one reality to another?
Since then, I’ve been looking for that promised land. A sort of painful magnetic pull, as expressed by Victoria Erickson, beckoned me to walk deeper and deeper to find the land of my dreams. I’ve seen it in bits and pieces … in the still waters of Swiftcurrent Lake that perfectly reflects the surrounding mountains … or the Five Seenweg that reflects the Matterhorn on clear, windless days. But they were merely small pieces of the extraordinarily vast landscape that I had seen in my dream … broken by the god beams that peeked through the blinds.
Recently, I’ve come to realize that the promised land of my dreams, painstakingly painted by god, is Kashmir … a place where heaven touches the earth … a place where the mountains touch the sky and the lakes reflect the heavens … a place that’s too beautiful to be real … a place that seemingly is a piece of paradise on earth. This story is about that piece of paradise … a place that seems unreal … a place of fantasy … a place that I only saw in my dreams … until now!
The etymology of Kashmir is traced to the mythological Rishi Kashyapa (one of the Saptarishis), a Mānasaputra of Lord Brahma—the creator of the universe. According to Christopher Snedden, the name Kashmir could have been a shortened form of “Kashyapa Mira”, or the “lake of the sage Kashyapa.” Alternatively, it may have come from a Kashmiri or Sanskrit term that means “to dry up water”. It could also have been derived from the term “Kashyapa Meru”, which means the sacred mountains of Kashyapa.
It is claimed that it was Rishi Kashyapa who first drained the valley, till then a huge lake, called the Sātisāra (after Sati, the consort of Lord Shiva). It was carried out by opening a gap in the hills at a place called Varahmula. Amazingly, a bird’s eye view, courtesy Google Earth, of the Kashmir valley matches its ground reality perfectly with its mythology. Clearly the valley, with river Jhelum as its principal drainage seems a vast lake of sea proportions. Not unlike the mythological narration it drains out even today through a gorge near Baramulla, the Varahmula of mythological times. Its sea like waves are believed to have given the lake its name Wullar or Wular after the Sanskrit word Ullola (rising wave).
My first attempt to visit Kashmir … the land of my dreams … the land of fantasy … the land whose origins are encoded in mythology … was in Aug, 2019. I was excited and eager to do the Kashmir Great Lakes trek. But God had other plans and I landed up in Bhrigu Lake. I often think about those days … the tumultuous emotions of disappointment, confusion, and expectation had propelled me to one of the most spiritually uplifting experiences of my life … Bhrigu’s blessings … the ability to see the unseen … decoding the mysteries of reality.
Since then, the world as we know it has changed dramatically. I saw the true nature of things, of people, and realities. Ordinary has given way to extraordinary … desires have given way to contentment … working toward the future has given way to living in the moment.
I was no more thinking of trekking with strangers. The two most beautiful people I’ve known in my life … my wife and my son … had to be a part of it. And then we created a group of family and friends who would love to trek with us … to the prettiest place on earth … to the land of my dreams!
Sat, Jul 22 2023 — Srinagar
We landed in Srinagar in the afternoon after a fairly long flight. We were welcomed by couple of our team members who had landed before us, an overcast sky, and a gentle breeze that kissed our faces.
After dumping our bags at the hotel we went out for an early dinner. A sumptuous, traditional, multi-course Wazwan meal at Ahdoos left us satiated … yet wanting for more. Thereafter, a stroll around the newly spruced up areas of Lal Chowk, developed under the Srinagar Smart City project, was the icing on the cake.
Sun, Jul 23 2023 — Srinagar
We saw Srinagar … our first sunrise in Kashmir, the Dal Lake and it’s shikaras, the floating market, the Mughal gardens, and the sunset. The sights, sounds, and smell of Srinagar enlivened our senses. Our expectations soared … we were eager for the trek to begin.
Mon, Jul 24 2023 – Srinagar to Shitkadi
Three more members of our group joined us today completing our group of ten. The excitement of seeing each other and the expectations of what lay ahead of us got all of us in a buoyant mood. As our vehicle chugged along NH1 our eyes widened in awe. As we entered the Sindh valley, the Pir Panjal range gradually revealed its beauty to us … with the snow capped peaks crowning it, lush green coniferous forests adorning it, and the beautiful turquoise waters of the Sind flowing at its feet.
And when we reached Sonamarg, we were left speechless …
Finally, when we reached our base camp at Shitkadi there was still enough light for us to see the play of colors over the distant glaciers, the blue-green colors of the stream that meandered past our base camp, and the colorful rocks that glistened by the riverside.
Tue, Jul 25 2023 — Shitkadi to Nichnai
Next morning, we headed toward Sekdur, leaving behind our campsite at an elevation of 8850 feet above sea level and the last traces of civilization. The next trace of civilization can only be found at Naranag, where our trek ends.
After trudging along for a while, when I looked back, an amazing panoramic view of Sonamarg, Mount Amarnath, and the surrounding snow-capped mountains seemed to engulf us.
In about an hour we were at the top of the meadow where Maple and Pine trees start. At the tree line, the trail quickly descends to a tiny brook and then climbs again. What follows next is a lovely dense forest of Maple trees. Walking on the green bed of grass amidst the Maples is an experience unique to Kashmir in India. For the next couple of hours, the trail winds up through the Maple trees.
The Maple forest ends at the top of the ridge and, on the other side, a meadow gently slopes down. I turned around one more time to enjoy the panoramic view of Sonamarg and its neighboring valley before it disappears from our view. The streams, the meadows, the pines and the distant towns and villages nestled between the mountains is a sight to behold.
As we walked past the tree line, the meadow turned into a valley with a stream shining through it. I realized at the very moment that our fairy tale trek has truly begun.
The climb was over for now and the trail sloped down into a meadow lined on the left by silver birch trees. A glimpse of the valley beyond the birch trees made me pause. The broken pieces from the distant dream seemed to converge and recreate the landscape I’d been looking for. The layers, the colors, the hues, the trees, the meadows, the valley, the mountains, the sky … all blended and overwhelmed my optic nerves. I stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity.
This is Shekdur … a beautiful meadow surrounded by Bhoj trees. The gentle descent on the meadow ended in a forest of Bhojpatra trees (silver birch). In about an hour, we reached the end of the birch trees. Thereafter, we followed the trail down and climbed back up into a river valley. The river valley is the beginning of Nichnai—a wide valley enclosed by mountains on either side. The river, which joins the Sindh eventually, flows through the valley.
The first 30 minutes of our trek through the valley was over the rocks and it required some skill to negotiate the boulders. Thereafter, the river valley widens. Far ahead lie triangular twin snow-clad peaks.
When we reached our campsite we saw that our mules had already reached and our tents were pitched. After dinner, I planned to do some astrophotography. However, there was a cloud cover and the half moon was playing hide-and-seek with me. These are the times that teach me to let go. Life often hides what we seek. To find it we must look inside … realize our true nature … and then we get a glimpse of the cosmos.
It rained all night. The pitter-patter on our tent intermittently woke me up throughout the night. Each time, I surrendered all my worries to god and went back to sleep.
Wed, Jul 26 2023 — Nichnai to Vishnusar via Nichnai Pass
The morning was bright and sunny and we hoped it stayed that way. It’s the day we get to see one of the great lakes of Kashmir and the first one in this trek—Vishnusar.
Our first milestone was Nichnai pass. The pass is visible at a distance from the camp site. After half an hour of walking along the river, we crossed the river to move to its left bank.
After walking for almost an hour on the left bank, our ascent to the pass began. A climb to Nichnai pass at 13,500 ft was followed by a small descent.
As we climbed, we noticed a small aquamarine glacial lake at the foot of the mountains. On enquiring about the name of the lake from a local I came to know that it has none. It’s only seen around this time of the year when the glacier melts. It seemed like a gift for looking inward last night.
The pass crossing seemed long and arduous at times. However, it was punctuated by sharp jagged mountain peaks, glaciers, flowers beds, meadows, a flock of sheep, and almost every element that made it the landscape of my dreams.
Where the glacier meets the sky, the land ceases to be earthly, and the earth becomes one with the heavens; no sorrows live there anymore, and therefore joy is not necessary; beauty alone reigns there, beyond all demands.
Halldór Laxness
This trek through the valley was what dreams are made of. As we walked through the lush green carpet of grass we saw the classic snow-clad Himalayan mountains on the left and the grey and barren mountains resembling those of Spiti on the right.
When we reached the end of the valley we took a slight detour. Instead of heading straight toward our campsite we climbed up the mountain on our left to get a view of Vishnusar lake. This was our first glimpse of the lake. The aquamarine waters of the lake had a calming effect on our nerves after that arduous trek. We sat there for a while and enjoyed its beauty until a drizzle prompted us to continue our way forward.
We walked downhill … hopped over boulders to cross another stream … and then uphill. When we reached the shore of the lake my soul was looking for some solitude. So, I continued to walk along the shore and the beauty of it all engulfed my senses in a way I’ve rarely experienced … even though by now I’ve seen hundreds of mountain lakes.
Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.
Aristotle
I’m neither a wild beast nor a god … but I believe solitude helps me move closer to god. That is also one of the reasons I trek in the wilderness … the search for god becomes effortless … not for the body but for the mind.
I found a rock to sit on and enjoy few moments of solitude. The sounds of silence punctuated by the sounds of nature reminded me of my childhood … when I used to spend hours watching sunlight play with the waters.
Thu, Jul 27 2023 — Vishnusar to Gadsar via Gadsar Pass
We started early today. In the early hours, Vishnusar lake looked crystal clear and reflected the mountains, the glaciers, and the streams almost perfectly.
After a brief walk through lush green meadows we reached the shores of Kishansar lake. Kishansar lake looked crystal clear as well and reflected the Kishansar peak and the glaciers.
We paused here for a while to take photos and get ready for what supposedly is the most difficult part of the trek—a climb to Gadsar pass. As we looked up the ridge, we saw a pencil thin line traversing through the mountain side. That was our track to follow.
Forty-five minutes into the climb, we encountered the most striking view of the trek so far … seemingly the view for which we took all the pain to come this far. The twin lakes of Kishansar and Vishnusar lakes, in full view, together. That breathtaking view of the twin lakes stayed with us … progressively getting better as we gained altitude … till we reached the ridge top.
After almost a 2-hour ascent we reached the summit—the Gadsar pass at an altitude of 13,800 ft—the highest point on the trek. The joy of being at the summit and witnessing the 360° view is hard to describe in words.
The initial moments of exhilaration … of being there … of taking photos … soon faded. A feeling of quiet somnolescence started engulfing me … almost like a trance. I think the high altitude and the intoxicating beauty of the mountains was casting its spell on my consciousness. Thereafter, I continued to hold the camera but never pressed the shutter … until long after we started the descent. At times, I can’t bring it onto myself to take a photo! I feel that if a photo gets taken it will permanently erase it from my neurons in the brain. Hence, one of the most breathtaking visuals continue to stay only on my mind. I like it that way.
On the other side of the Gadsar pass stretches a long valley. Far in the distance lie a series of snow-clad peaks. The peaks lie outside our Line of Control.
As we started our descent on the other side of the pass we found snow. Sliding down the glaciers brought out the inner child in us. That was indeed the coolest part of the trek!
An hours descent, punctuated by a pristine nameless lake, led us to a flat meadow.
A multi-colored flower-laden pathway through the narrow valley, flanked by two mountain ranges running on either side, led us to a place that seemed like heaven. The blue Iris area was our visual cue that we were about to reach Gadsar.
We walked through the vast meadows … each doing our own thing … taking photos, admiring the beauty around, reflecting on our innermost thoughts, et al. A boy … my boy Aditya … sat at the center of all that beauty admiring the flowers, the vast green meadows, and the surrounding mountains. He’s a beautiful soul and a beautiful mind … a mind as beautiful as the flowers I found on this trek. I keep learning from him everyday … even in those days that I seem to be teaching him the ways of the world.
And then we saw Gadsar—supposedly the prettiest lake in Kashmir—first from afar and then up-close.
Seeing Gadsar up-close is the experience of a lifetime. Interestingly enough, Gadsar is also named as Yamsar—after the god of death Yama. I find it strange that a lake so pretty would be named after the god of death. Is it a lake that you see after you die? Are we literally in heaven now?
A local folklore does seem to suggest that the lake is inhabited by a monster that drags anyone who walks close to the shore thereby hastening one’s death. An ingenious tale I would say to protect the ecology of the lake.
We spent an inordinate amount of time at the lake and I wished we camped there. But I guess the locals fiercely believe the story of the Lake Monster and deeply respect Yama and so it was not to be. We picked one of the seemingly hundred pathways that led us to our campsite … away from death and toward life.
As we continued on the downward trail from Gadsar in about half an hour the valley widened up. The snow clad mountains gave way to lower barren mountains suggesting that we have lost considerable altitude on our descent. In another half an hour down the trail, we saw a few shepherds’ huts. Continuing further downhill we saw the army camp—a small hut and a few tents.
Going beyond the army camp needs permission. Once our IDs were checked and permission was granted we continued our walk to the campsite.
At the campsite, we spent some beautiful moments by a glacial stream. We have to cross over that glacier tomorrow … but today we wanted to live in the moment and not think about what we need to do tomorrow.
Fri, Jul 28 2023 — Gadsar to Satsar
The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.
Carl Sagan
When we go inward and look deep within we realize that we are not mere humans walking on the face of earth. We are much more than that … we are dancing clouds of light … energy in motion … swimming in an ocean of love. Carl Sagan understood our nature. We are truly made of star stuff. We are born of the same womb that birthed the cosmos and knitted together the galaxies. And maybe that’s why … because of that connection … because of my propensity to go inward and see that light … I never let go of the chance to look up and gaze at the star spangled sky.
At 3:30 am I crawled out of my tent. A gust of bone-chilling wind tried its best to dampen my enthusiasm for stargazing. However, when I looked up my heart leapt up with joy. The billions of stars seemed close enough that I could touch them … and maybe become them.
As I stood motionless … mesmerized by the Milky Way … Ashish silently sneaked up behind me. As he followed my gaze and looked up at the sky his spontaneous reaction was no less than a kid at a candy store. And there we were, two overgrown middle-aged men behaving like kids from middle school, jumping with joy at nature’s candy store.
After almost 30 minutes of unbridled joy, clouds came floating into our lives, gradually covering the star spangled sky. At the break of dawn it suddenly dawned on me that our excitement was waking up others. Tent lights turned on … curious voices broke the silence. But soon after the stars were all gone … leaving us with only the sparkle in our eyes.
Thereafter, it rained heavily. A thick cloud cover gathered over us. Only a hint of light on the eastern sky kept our hopes alive that the rains will not play spoilsport.
However, god had other ideas today. Thirty minutes into the trek, the heavens poured … the ground beneath my feet seemed to slip away … and for the first time in the trek it literally seemed that I was on unsure footing.
The start was pretty interesting though. After crossing over the glacier, we took the trail that goes up the mountain. Strangely enough the trail seemed like those in the western ghats.
We even saw a heart-shaped lake that looked just like the Heart Lake in Waynad, Kerala.
Soon after, the supposedly hour and a half long gentle climb transformed into one of the most arduous and dangerous climbs as the heavens started pouring down. The inclined narrow trail transformed into slush and mud. The only way out of it was to leave the trail and descend by the inclined grassy slope that still assured some footing. I prayed to god to give us enough strength so that we can all make it through this.
It wasn’t meant to be this way. Today was supposed to be the easiest part of the trek. After having gone through 3 arduous albeit memorable days we were hoping for a much more relaxed day of trekking. But that is the nature of the mountains—they hold secrets that we need to learn. Climbing mountains is very much like life itself … hard, unpredictable, filled with uncertainties. But if we hold on long enough we often get to where we need to be.
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.
Edward Abbey
Finally, when the raging rain quietened down to a silent drizzle we found ourselves at a bend that turned round to the left and left the river valley. There we saw again this amazing view.
Around the bend, we were now on a flat trail surrounded by mountains on a meadow with deep craters to our right. It’s a place called Maengandob. Floating clouds, isolated mountains, and flower beds truly reflect what Edward Abbey referred to as the “most amazing view.”
As we approached the first of the Satsar lakes, it started pouring all over again. The lake was barely visible in the rain and the mist. I walked through the mist toward our campsite with a heavy heart and a bag that seemed heavier to carry than it normally is.
Sat, Jul 29 2023 — Satsar to Gangabal via Zaj Pass
After a tough day yesterday we were hoping that the heavens will give us a break. More so because it’s a day full of ascents and descents—a mild ascent followed by a gradual descent followed by a long steep ascent and long steep descent followed by a gradual up and down walk.
After almost 3 hours of hopping over boulders and walking through the clouds we reached the top of a ridge and was greeted by stunning views of the twin lakes—Gangabal and Nandkol. The lakes revealed themselves gradually as the thick clouds floated by and dispersed.
And then when I saw Mt. Harmukh (originally known as Haramukuta, literally meaning the crown of Shiva) emerge from the clouds, tears trickled down my eyes—a spiritual experience hard to describe in words. It felt like I was staring at God’s face … the eyes of Shiva fixated on me … pulling me toward him.
My trance was broken as it suddenly struck me that the twin lakes was our destination and we had to brace ourselves for a steep stony descent of 1,400 feet.
By the time we reached the shore of Gangabal, god beams pierced through the thick cloud cover—just like it was in my dreams. God indeed was kind to us today … his bountiful gifts were everywhere. He was everything and everything was him.
Sun, Jul 30 2023 — Gangabal to Naranag
The night sky was unbelievable! While gazing at the stars it felt like I was one of them. The “I” was lost in a sea of stars … “I” became the stars and the stars became me. The significance and the insignificance of “I” stared at each other trying to comprehend the mystery of the universe.
There are more stars than there are people. Billions, Alan had said, and millions of them might have planets just as good as ours. Ever since I can remember, I’ve felt too big. But now I felt small. Too small. Too small to count. Every star is massive, but there are so many of them. How could anyone care about one star when there were so many spare? And what if stars were small? What if all the stars were just pixels? And earth was less than a pixel? What does that make us? And what does that make me? Not even dust. I felt tiny. For the first time in my life I felt too small.
Frank Cottrell Boyce
That night, my son Aditya and his friend Aadit shared the joys of star gazing with me. Their unbridled joys of youth rubbed on me enough to make me realize all over again that we’re as old as we think we are.
That morning, with the first rays of the sun, god decided not just to show his face but also his glory. The shining crown of god lit up the heaven and the earth, merging them into a singular form of beauty. And then I realized all over again … we are all one … nothing but our ego separates us. The ego is insignificant … we are only significant without our egos.
“I lack nothing, I tell you!”
“Nothing?” I asked. “Not even heaven?”
He lowered his head and was silent. But after a moment:
“Heaven is too high for me. The earth is good, exceptionally good—and near me!”
“Nothing is nearer to us than heaven. The earth is beneath our feet and we tread upon it, but heaven is within us.”
Nikos Kazantzakis
There is nothing to write after this. Yes, we reached safely to Naranag. But ain’t that obvious?