A Country Called Kashmir

The men outside of the Wooden Mosque in the striking city of Srinagar are adamant: “Kashmir is separate from India”. It is one of the first three topics of conversation for which people approach me, along with my nationality and questions regarding religion.

[Scribbled on a wall in Srinagar]

And I agree they might just have a point. Kashmir does feel different than more central places I’ve visited in India – from Mumbai via Rajasthan to Delhi. For me first and foremost, I have to admit, because this is the gem what scenic splendour is concerned.

My 50-something year-old host Yussuf constantly refers to various customs the Indians have that Kashmiris don’t. This houseboat owner who, with his long hair, very committed beard and most stylish sunglasses, looks like a blend of an imam and an aging John Lennon. And he is just the nicest guy. Yussuf shows me around Srinagar and some surrounding areas with kindness and aptitude.

As we ascend the stairs to the Shiva Temple on the central hill of Srinagar we overtake a number of worshippers who seem to ascend in stages. “It’s the oily Indian diet”, Yussuf tells me. It makes many Indians chubby and unfit, he claims. His toothy grin reveals that he’s joking more than anything else. Though however benign and harmless, his many little remarks make it clear that he considers himself as being distinctly different from Indians.

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[View from one of the many Moghul gardens around Srinagar]

The Kashmir valley is by quite a few described as ‘Heaven on Earth’, and while I don’t harbour many imaginations of heaven, I do know this; Kashmir is as scenic as any place I’ve seen. The valley spoils me to clear and sunny days which double up with a mild and soothing breeze. Being there, you can more easily understand why all nearby factions want a piece (including China which has annexed Shaksam Valley and Aksai Chin which India views as part of Kashmir and consequently lays claim to).

Intrusions by soldiers from the Pakistani-administered part of Kashmir just over a decade ago generated a strong response from India, leading some to fear that an escalation between the two nuclear capable countries was in the making.

It stopped short of it, but probably spoke volumes about the volatility of the region. Upon independence for India from the British (British India consisted of today’s India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, while Myanmar (Burma) was ruled as a province of British India also), Pakistan expected Kashmir to become its territory. Yet despite the majority of Kashmir being Muslim, the Hindu Maharaja opted for India. The ensuing war lasted over a year and was halted by a ceasefire enacted on the last day of 1948.

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Since 1989, though, the precariousness of the region has manifested itself through popular insurgency which for many years escalated into violence as India has retorted with troop placement.

“We are our own people; not part of Pakistan and not part of India”, Yussuf tells me. It is a sentiment shared by many Kashmiris (some 87% according to a 2007 survey). And it has been a costly one. The number of casualties of the decade-spanning low-intensity conflict ranges from 40.000 to more than twice that number, depending on which source you rely upon.

Just about every Western ministry warns their citizens from going to Kashmir. But the region has been calm for a few years now. Some people I meet blame it on the ruthless conduct of Indian troops and a consequent fear among the native populace. Others say it’s a general conflict fatigue whereas some say it’s high time to try out other means of furthering their cause.

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Kashmir is stable for now, and there are hopefully better days coming for the population. Whether prospects of independence for this high unemployment region are credible, I cannot say. There are surely many things which must undoubtedly happen first. But also things which can distort any hopes of independence, according to my host Yussuf. He holds that the houseboat phenomenon is something of an analogy for the maintenance of Kashmiri culture, and it is critical for Kashmir’s future.

Srinagar’s central Dal Lake is lined with houseboats, in most of which you can find accommodation ranging from basic to straight-up luxurious. Throughout their rule the British accepted that they were not to be allowed to own land by the lakes of Kashmir. And so they resorted to building houseboats instead. A loophole, but perhaps just an acceptable one.

[Srinagar's Dal Lake lined with houseboats]

The British left and the Indians came to. And the legislation about land ownership in all of Kashmir has retained its validity through Article 370 of India’s constitution. Only Kashmiris are allowed to own land, meaning that the houseboats are still flourishing. And quite a tourist phenomenon it has become. “If the Indians manage to get rid of that piece of legislation, then it’s the end of Kashmir”, Yussuf argues. “The culture has already changed so much. That would be the final blow. No more Kashmir”.

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My precious days in the valley afforded me a decent sample of the best of Kashmir: a swim in a lake overlooking pristine mountains followed by a nap in the shade of a walnut tree; a hike in endlessly green and lush valleys whose century-old trees, one can always hope, will never be ceded to loggers; and as always, the precious company of a generous people whose current fate is unbecoming.

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This one is for Kashmir and its people…

[From a Moghul garden] 

[Sunset in Srinagar]

[Going for a swim in Manasbal Lake] 

[Manasbal Lake]