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 At
Son Marg, the cottages were not very expensive. There were no
cooking facilities, but the room boy offered to bring us food from
the best 'Dhaba', a Khalsa hotel, belonging to a Sikh. The most
delicious Tandoori Rotis, Dal Makhani, Palak Paneer, Mushroom
curries and Baingan Ka Bertha, complete with pickles, papad and
green chillies arrived in a jiffy. We ate as if we had never eaten
before and then slept like logs. We were up next morning fit as
fiddles. We took a long walk and went to a little market which sold
Ladakhi and Kashmiri jewelry, precious stones, artificial and real
coral, onyxes and emeralds, green and pink jade, pearls, tiger
stones, and lots of turquoise, both cut and uncut. I purchased a
necklace and a bracelet of pink jade set in white metal, a string of
rough uncut coral and a traditional Kashmiri choker of copper coated
with silver. It was the kind my mother had worn in gold as a child.
I bought it for the sake of the design. All this cost just a couple
of hundred rupees. The pink jade necklace and the bracelets, being
much in demand, went away as gifts to friends. The Kashmiri choker
has been with my daughter. Occasionally, I still wear the string of
uncut coral.
At a small eatery, we had a South Indian breakfast and were
delighted to see good old Masala Dosas being made. Walking about in
the Valley was delightful. Son Marg literally means 'valley of gold'
and it looks it. Part of the valley and the mountains are capped
with snow throughout the year. The sun's rays falling on the snow
make it look like gold. It is a place to ski and slide on the snow.
The hills are covered with tall, dark green fir trees. Son Marg is
situated in the foothills of the mountain range leading to Ladakh
and Leh. The land route to Ladakh, which starts from here, remains
closed for more than six months in a year. That day, one of the last
conveys carrying army supplies - more than 500 trucks - was leaving
for Ladakh. Soon the snow will engulf the road and adjacent areas
and the only connection between the people of Ladakh and the outside
world will be the air link. Ladakh is famous for its monasteries and
art. The people, mainly of Tibetan origin, largely follow Buddhism.
Ladakh is like a surreal dream for me, a place I have to visit one
day, but I do not know when.
Postscript
Back in Srinagar, Dr.Prem and Netra left for their conference at
the Centuar Hotel and I went to visit my aunt for a day before
returning to Madras. In Srinagar, things did not appear normal. No
shops were open. Everyone was asked to stay indoors. The Chief
Secretary's car had been stoned. I was invited to dinner by my
aunt's Muslim neighbours. Our host looked very apprehensive and
informed us that a meeting was conducted in the big mosque where
outside fundamentalist leaders had come and made very inflammatory
speeches. Soon after I returned to Madras in August 1989, disaster
struck Kashmir, beginning with the kidnapping of Mufti Muhammad
Sayeed's daughter by terrorists, the killing of many innocent
civilians and the migration of Pandits from their homeland. Things
have been going from bad to worse.
My dear friend Dr.Netra died quite unexpectedly in August 1994,
while undergoing a routine surgical procedure, at a young age of 43.
A youthful, generous and noble life had ceased to be. Her passing
also meant an end to the series of impromptu adventures which had
taken us to so many different parts of the country.
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