I am a firm believer of the fact that travel is the best teacher. Beyond fancy hotels and pretty pictures, it gives you imperial life lessons, provided you are ready to learn. What travel taught me is gratitude: to be grateful for all the privileges that I have, that we as city people choose to condone, which still remains a distant dream for many. Ditching the regular tourist circuit of Kashmir, this time we decided upon one of the remotest places for new experiences and lessons.

Dawn was still breaking when we set out for Gurez from Srinagar to cover a distance of 123kms. Streets were empty reciting tales of their own. After covering 57 kms we reached Bandipora. In the Bandipora district, lies one of the largest freshwater lakes of the Asia, Wular. It feds on Jhelum River and plays a significant role in the hydrographic system of the Kashmir Valley. It was declared a Ramsar site as its wetlands acts as a natural habitat for wildlife and is a suitable wintering site for a number of migratory birds. After spending some time here, we continued our journey for Gurez. A couple of kilometres from Bandipora and the scenery started to change rapidly. Along with the gradual increase in the altitude we could see the tall deodars taking over.

Gurez lies in the northern part of Kashmir and due to its proximity to border, the area is well guarded by the Indian Army. As the air goes thinner, our spirits soar and temperature dips further. At Chhandaji, approximately 10 kms before Razdan Pass, there is an Army check post where one has to register oneself for further travel to Gurez. While we were registering ourselves, Papa engaged himself in conversation with an army personnel and he was kind enough to offer us tea which was exactly what we needed at that moment! After having tea, we continued our journey further for the next stop Peer Baba.

Peer Baba: According to folklore peer baba came from Malsar (present Pakistan) in 1930 and established himself near Kanzalwan. He used to preach goodness but his religion remains unknown till date. After his death, his devotees buried him at this spot. In 1950, 2/8 GR of the Indian Army constructed a Ziyarat at present location. Border Security Force took over the charge in 1968. Beside the Dargah, there is a temple constructed by them and they are the ones looking after the maintenance of the same. The very first thing I noticed was the entrance gate. It is a three-dimensional structure embodying the holy signs of 3 religions indicating that everyone is welcomed. The spiritual aura that one feels here is worth experiencing. Located amidst wonderful meadows between Tragbal and Razdan Pass, it offers spectacular views of snow-capped mountains of Harmukh, the thickly populated Bandipora forest range and hawk eye view of Wular Lake. Troops and tourists halt here while enroute Gurez.

5kms from Dargah, came the Razdan Pass at an elevation of 11,672 ft. Once an integral part of the Silk Route between Kashmir and Central Asia, it is now an imperial link connecting Gurez valley to Kashmir valley. The pass remains inaccessible during winters amidst heavy snowfall, cutting off Gurez from the rest of the Union Territory.

Finally, when we reached the verdant bowl of Gurez Valley, what welcomed us was straight out of a poet’s imagination. The entrance into the valley is extremely picturesque as one is welcomed with forest-clad slopes, snowy peaks along with the pristine blue Kishanganga and the stand alone Habba Khatoon peak overlooking the town of Dawar. I was awestruck by its beauty.Under the October sun, the aligned trees wearing their autumn robes enhancing the yellows and oranges perfectly adding to the bucolic countryside charm. Gurez was a part of ancient Dardistan region which extends to Gilgit Baltistan and is inhabited by the ethnic Dard tribe. The community claims to be the direct descendants of the soldiers of the Alexander’s Army, some of whom reportedly stayed back after Alexander abandoned his campaign. The tribe speaks Shina language and is ethnically different. After checking in the hotel, we went out to explore this exquisite place with Irshad bhai, a native of Dawar.

Legend of Habba Khatoon: 

Born in 1554, in Pampore, her parents named her Zoon. At the age of 14, she was married to a peasant boy who used to mistreat her. It was after her failed marriage and her life’s miseries that Zoon changed her name to Habba. She started writing poetry and singing. As per the legends, one day Yousuf Shah Chak, the last independent king of Kashmir was roaming in the valley when he heard Habba singing under the shade of Chinar. Mesmerised by her, he married her. She was happily married with him for 6 years until fate separated them. After Mughal Emperor, Akbar failed to annex Kashmir by force, he thought of a peaceful resolution. He asked Yousuf Shah to come over to Delhi for talks. However, Akbar imprisoned him and sent him to Bihar where he eventually died. After this incident, Habba Khatoon became an ascetic and spent the rest of her life writing poetry and singing for her beloved husband. Her writings are immensely popular and strikingly different from the poets of her era. She was eventually given the title of “The Nightingale of Kashmir”. It is said that once Habba Khatoon took some water from the nearby river to her hut and the earthen pot fell down. It then gave rise to this spring that is presently named after her.

The spring is at a beautiful spot in the village called Achoora. The water was sweet and refreshing but it was extremely chilled.

The formidable stand alone, pyramid shaped peak overlooking the valley is also named after her.

The Border River: Rising from the Kishansar Lake in the vicinity of Sonmarg, Kishanganga flows through enchanting Tulail and Gurez valleys. Once along the Kishanganga, ran the trade from Kashmir to Astore and further to Gilgit. Unfortunately, of its total length of 250 kms, only 50 kms is in India and rest lies in POK. Tarbal is the southernmost village of the valley. It is here that the motorable road ends, restricting the movement, as just after a few kilometres Kishanganga meanders into POK where it takes the name Neelum.

Tulail Valley: Just when I thought this trip can’t get any dreamier, it did! Here comes Tulail Valley. On the eastern side of Gurez lies this wonderous valley which is a newly carved tehsil in 2014. It is one of the remotest valleys of Kashmir as it got cellular and internet connectivity only in December 2020. Tulail is basically the gateway to Ladakh. It is here where the real transition in landscape is imminent. The greens giving way to browns; the lushness making way for barrenness. It comprises of mesmerising small villages with old wooden houses amidst the vast spread meadows and amazingly beautiful river winding its way. The valley starts from the first village, Burnai and ends at Chakwali, being the last village on Indian side. The houses of valley deserve special mention. They are built in a traditional way from unhewn timber, the interstices being plastered with mud with small aperture serving the triple purpose of door, window, and chimney. Also, they are built really close to each other for obvious reason of warmth and communication.

After this Irshad bhai, took us to another spot where we have to cross army check post and we were allowed to go only a kilometre. From here, one can see several posts of Indian army, some not even visible to naked eyes. The mountain that stood right across in front of us lies in POK. After witnessing this, one can only feel immense respect and pride for our soldiers for the rigorous life that they lead to guard our lands.

It was already evening, and we were little tired but then we spotted a little café run by our very own Indian Army called the Log Hut Café. Laconic furniture with minimal cozy interior; we savored on omelets, noodles and some coffee overlooking the majestic Habba Khatoon dipped in gloomy evening hues.

As the night fell, temperature dipped sub-zero and from behind the peaks, rose the brilliant half-moon that illuminated the dark night sky while we were engaged in conversation with a local. People here are so benevolent; all you have to do is to strike a conversation and they’ll surely invite you for a cup of tea.

It is pertinent to note that Gurez still doesn’t have electricity and it receives it only in evening hours through Army gensets. However, no one seems to be bothered by it as all their faces reveal is contentment.

Next morning, the sun was shining bright in its full glory, but the breeze was refreshing and extremely cold. Continuing our ritual, Papa and I was out on streets for wholesome morning walk. The town was still asleep when I looked at Habba Khatoon and saw a hawk hovering over. I pondered upon a thought that there are some things that borders cannot stop, however well-guarded. For instance, wild and free winds, the beautiful birds and butterflies flapping their wings and crossing over with ease.

It was about time to start the return journey. Goodbyes are always hard! As we crossed the bridge leaving the valley behind us, I took one last look at the valley, the ethereal beauty that is both humbling and awe-inspiring realizing that I left my heart there and could only think of what Amir Khusro wrote:

"Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast, Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast”

Which means if there is a paradise on earth, it is this. It is this. It is this.

And after this enriching trip I am forced to ask, falling for a person is fine, but have you ever fallen for a place?

Thank you so much for sparing time reading this. Please drop your valuable comments below.

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