I spent 6 days at Nagin Lake, the most peaceful place in Srinagar. I could as well spend 60, time was meaningless in this place. I got up early in morning and spend most of the day sitting on the veranda, watching the lake or reading. The shikharas selling everything - handicrafts, grocery, flowers approached to the veranda and I could buy whatever I needed. Internet was the main reason why I got outside. I went for some walks in the city, just to get back after few hours. The old part had brick buildings from the Raj time, and beatiful mosques. I've never been to a mosque before and I found out them to be (at least there) places of true peace. In Jamia Masjid, huge halls with wooden pillars created an atmosphere of tranquility and love to God. Groups of men were sitting among them on the carpets, talking about their things.
It was a great place for meditation, when the mosque was almost empty between the prayers. I've been warned not to mention that I'm Israeli in Kashmir, but there was no problem at all. The worst response I've got was 'go away' when some shopkeeper asked me if I was Muslim, and I said no, Jewish. Others asked me about the war in Lebanon (as if there was no war in Israel) and some even spoke some Hebrew. On the 5th day I got sick and spent 2 days in bed, until I felt a little better, and than I dragged myself 400 km south. I spent a night in Pathankot and got on a morning bus to Dharamsala. Leaving the Kashmir Valley with its luxurious facilities I entered the plains of India again. Stalls of chai, fields of rice and ganja, and stalls again. And the people, of course. The crazy masala was all around again. As the conductor passed to collect the fares from the passengers, a man wrapped in loungi sitting next to me, told me something about money and pocket. I didn't understand, he insisted, I gave up and looked out of the window. Another passenger reached for the man's pocket and took out a note and handed it to the conductor. I realized the man had no hands. I said I'm sorry, he smiled politely while looking away. Then the conductor enforced the Indian bus rules on me. He said I should move from my seat to another side of the bus. Why, I asked, I feel ok here? He said because I should sit over there. I moved and opened the window. He informed me I cannot put my arms outside the window. There is no point getting angry at Indians (or at anyone else, in fact). Everytime I got angry at them, I felt stupid eventually. The bus stopped on the way, as the driver held helplessly the gear handle. That was refreshing. As a true Indian driver, he managed to drive a little more with means available, with what was left of the handle on the bottom, near the roaring engine. He stopped at some junction and another bus came and picked all the passengers. I got to McLeod Ganj at last, it seemed like backpackers' paradise. Packed with guest houses, restaurants and handicraft shops, it wasn't noisy like most tourist places. The Tibetan community gave the place an atmosphere of honorable dignity. The town looked really prosperous. The economic success of Tibetans seemed to emphasize their struggle against their motherland occupation. I really sympathized them. Their hard work made the place very special. I went up to Dharamkot, small village above McLeod Ganj, which looked like Shenkin street in a middle of a forest. The next day I collected the parcel my parents sent me and after half a year I got music again! It was good to have a break and even better to have it over. Now instead of ignoring all the touts, I just won't hear them :) Anyway, I'm thinking to settle here for a while, it's a nice place.
It was a great place for meditation, when the mosque was almost empty between the prayers. I've been warned not to mention that I'm Israeli in Kashmir, but there was no problem at all. The worst response I've got was 'go away' when some shopkeeper asked me if I was Muslim, and I said no, Jewish. Others asked me about the war in Lebanon (as if there was no war in Israel) and some even spoke some Hebrew. On the 5th day I got sick and spent 2 days in bed, until I felt a little better, and than I dragged myself 400 km south. I spent a night in Pathankot and got on a morning bus to Dharamsala. Leaving the Kashmir Valley with its luxurious facilities I entered the plains of India again. Stalls of chai, fields of rice and ganja, and stalls again. And the people, of course. The crazy masala was all around again. As the conductor passed to collect the fares from the passengers, a man wrapped in loungi sitting next to me, told me something about money and pocket. I didn't understand, he insisted, I gave up and looked out of the window. Another passenger reached for the man's pocket and took out a note and handed it to the conductor. I realized the man had no hands. I said I'm sorry, he smiled politely while looking away. Then the conductor enforced the Indian bus rules on me. He said I should move from my seat to another side of the bus. Why, I asked, I feel ok here? He said because I should sit over there. I moved and opened the window. He informed me I cannot put my arms outside the window. There is no point getting angry at Indians (or at anyone else, in fact). Everytime I got angry at them, I felt stupid eventually. The bus stopped on the way, as the driver held helplessly the gear handle. That was refreshing. As a true Indian driver, he managed to drive a little more with means available, with what was left of the handle on the bottom, near the roaring engine. He stopped at some junction and another bus came and picked all the passengers. I got to McLeod Ganj at last, it seemed like backpackers' paradise. Packed with guest houses, restaurants and handicraft shops, it wasn't noisy like most tourist places. The Tibetan community gave the place an atmosphere of honorable dignity. The town looked really prosperous. The economic success of Tibetans seemed to emphasize their struggle against their motherland occupation. I really sympathized them. Their hard work made the place very special. I went up to Dharamkot, small village above McLeod Ganj, which looked like Shenkin street in a middle of a forest. The next day I collected the parcel my parents sent me and after half a year I got music again! It was good to have a break and even better to have it over. Now instead of ignoring all the touts, I just won't hear them :) Anyway, I'm thinking to settle here for a while, it's a nice place.
!כל הכבוד לצה"ל
3 comments:
Privet, Len4ik !
Im just happy to hear from you. Maybe I missed it in your previous posts, but what are your plans for future ?
Hey mate :)
I'll probably be off here in a couple of days, heading all the way south, to the opposite side... Should be funny and full power different from here.
Need to exit India before November, so I guess I'm gonna go all the way up to Calcutta and then challo Bangkok :)
When are you coming by?
Hi, Len4ik! It is one person from Russia writing you. I left you some information in ICQ, but there was no answer. If you can, contact me plz at lucky-6@yandex.ru. I'd be glad to hearing from you, especially after I've read so much about your great trip.
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