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Traffic in the hills is always a nightmare, but Srinagar takes the cake. Come summer, and the lovely summer capital of Jammu and Kashmir turns into a cacophonous mess of vehicles trying to travel in all possible directions at once, on roads designed for single-lane traffic. Frustrated by all this, I jump out of the taxi at Dal Gate. As a traveller, I live for the moments when I go off the beaten track. The picturesque Dal Lake does seem too touristy, but it’s a tempting refuge from the road. “Let’s get into a shikara,” I tell my son. And so, in the manner of every single traveller who visits Kashmir, we too set sail upon the placid waters of the Dal Lake.
The shikara stand is less than busy, I find as I look at rows of the low boats so light that a single oarsman can navigate them with ease. There’s no need for tedious negotiations as boat rentals (Rs 400 per hour) are posted on a board. The water is still, and we clamber into a shikara with its red velvet divan-like seat. “Shall I take you to Nehru Park?” the shikarawala asks. “You’ll find hawkers, floating shops and a band playing in the bandstand. You’ll even get Punjabi chhole bhature and chaat!” I shudder and beg him to take us to the quietest corners of the lake. “It will take over two hours. Shikaras move slowly,” he warns.
With the quiet splash of the boat’s oar, we set off. I put my feet up and see that my teenaged son is already flat on his back with a cap over his face. “Isn’t it pretty?” I ask, determined not to give in to maternal exasperation. “It’s so peaceful that I’m already sleepy,” says he, through the cap. The boatman, Javed Khan, a garrulous but interesting storyteller, takes us closer to the neat row of houseboats on the water’s edge. During the British era, he says, the colonials were piqued when the king restricted the building of houses for non-Kashmiris. So they commissioned lavish houseboats on the Dal Lake to circumvent this rule. Life on the houseboat, another stereotype of Kashmir, must still be quite idyllic, I comment. My sleepy son pipes in, “Have you noticed how all the shikaras have desi names like Gulfaam and Kashmir ki Kali — while the houseboats have English names like Mayfair and Windsor Castle?” Even with the cap over his eyes, his observation is spot on. Khan laughs when he hears our conversation. “Houseboats are for rich tourists, so they have fancy names. But the shikara isn’t just for tourists — it’s a poor man’s boat with a humble name.” He points out local shikaras, without the fancy accoutrements and roofs, in which villagers gather various weeds from the Lake. “These make excellent fertilisers,” he explains. “The villagers use them in their floating gardens to grow vegetables.”
Beneath the surface of Dal Lake, there are patches of matted vegetation so thick that with the addition of a little soil and fertiliser, one can grow crops on them. “The tomatoes, cucumbers and melons grown on these floating gardens are exceptionally sweet, because of the lake,” he says. Like the houseboats, floating gardens can be moved from one place to another and have to be tethered in place. As we drift past water chestnut and lotus plantations, a boat comes by selling flowers. Another boatman hawks more prosaic colas and chips. We head into a narrow waterway fringed by weeping willows for more glimpses of local life. A workshop comes into view. Our shikara has been made here, Khan informs. Each boat costs between Rs 80,000 and Rs 2 lakh to make, depending on the materials used. “My family has three boats,” he says. “Every evening, we give the day’s earnings to a manager who divides the total equally amongst all of us,” he says. “In times of militancy, earnings haven’t been substantial. This way, in spite of the unrest around us, we maintain a camaraderie amongst ourselves, and peace on the lake.”
We’re now on Dal Lake’s far side, overlooking a boulevard lined with Mughal-era pleasure gardens, luxury hotels and a golf course.
Khan points out the Shankaracharya temple and Pari Mahal, vantage points on the Srinagar hills with panoramic views of the city. “You can go there, but the roads are crowded,” says Khan. “Maybe it’s better to just see it from the comfort of your shikara,” he laughs. Khan isn’t serious, I know. But as I sink deeper into the comfortable divan with my son dozing next to me, I muse that the sights of Srinagar look infinitely more beautiful from the tranquillity of Dal Lake than they do from up close, after one’s been jostled by hordes of holidaymakers. This long, peaceful shikara ride on the lake has been an experience that’s lived up to its hype. Maybe in the future, I won’t blindly look for the offbeat and obscure while travelling.The Dal Lake has shown me that even the oft-beaten path is capable of yielding unexpected pleasures.
Getting There
By Air: Jet Airways, Jet Konnect, Indigo, SpiceJet, Go Air, Jet Lite and Air India operate regular flights from Delhi and Mumbai to Srinagar’s Sheikh ul Alam Airport
By Rail: You can travel to Jammu by train (Jammu Mail is good), and then take a taxi or bus ride to Srinagar. J&K State Road Transport Corporation (J&KSRTC) operates fairly comfortable buses from Jammu that cost around Rs 350 and take about 12 hours to reach Srinagar
