One week in the crown of India feels more than a lifetime of memories.

After landing in Srinagar, while entering the airport premises, I saw Omar Abdullah (the Chief Minister of Kashmir). For a brief second, I thought he would welcome me personally but he did not even glance at me. It’s okay; he seemed to be in a rush for something important.

Disconnected from the World, Connected to the Present

Before landing in Srinagar, I was connected to the entire world through my phone. But the moment I arrived there, I suddenly became a person who could only connect with the people physically around me because my phone network had stopped working. However, in this technological era, there are always multiple solutions to even the smallest problems. Since I had already paid heavily for my Airbus ticket, I decided to at least make use of the airport’s “free” Wi-Fi, though technically, it did not feel entirely free.

Nevertheless, it helped my phone come back to life. I immediately called my loved ones and complained about how they could not reach me for an entire day. But somewhere inside, I was secretly happy to be “out of reach.”

Unfortunately, I could not spend the whole day at the airport, so I finally began my journey. I took a taxi, first I connected with the driver and then with his phone’s Wi-Fi for addresses and digital payments. Since it was more than an hour-long journey, I switched on my curiosity mode and started asking him questions. I tried to understand Kashmir through the lens of a Kashmiri. We spoke about contemporary issues, politics, the beauty of the state, the Jhelum River, Dal Lake, and even Bollywood movies based on Kashmir.

Understanding Kashmir and Ladakh

The first few days felt like an adventure. The weather had welcomed me with rain, thunderstorms, and falling temperatures. On top of that, the famous Zoji La had started showing its tantrums by restricting movement through the route.

It felt like a silver lining when the one-way route finally opened and pushed me to begin my journey from Srinagar to Kargil.

After waiting nearly three long days in Srinagar, I finally managed to reach Kargil. Travelling in this region is itself a learning experience – from arranging taxis and negotiating with drivers to observing the changing landscapes throughout the journey. I found endless things to observe, reflect on, and talk about, and at times, I simply lost myself in the existential beauty around me.

I was completely amazed by the beauty nature holds here.

At one point near Zoji La Pass, we persuaded the driver to stop the car. I suddenly found myself surrounded by towering snow-covered peaks. Everywhere there was snow except for the narrow strip of road NH-1 that we were travelling through. Standing there, I also found myself thinking about the historical military operation (Bison) that secured these regions for India after 1948. If our forces had not made those efforts, many of us might never have witnessed such extraordinary landscapes.

If you truly love nature and believe in its beauty, you must visit this region at least once. And if time and money permit, perhaps more than once.

Where the road ends and journey begins

The beauty almost carried me away, but now I should probably talk about the actual reason behind my visit to Kargil.

My first day at my mentor’s organisation was mostly about introductions –  introducing myself, understanding the organisation, and meeting the team members. Learning about the organisation’s work and interventions became the highlight of the day.

What especially stayed with me were their interventions around:

• Project-Based Learning,
• community engagement for winter schools,
• SEL (Social Emotional Learning)-based classes for students from Classes 1 to 5.

On the second day, I got the opportunity to visit government middle schools in Baltibazar and Chutuk, both located near the mainland areas.

Baltibazar school is  close to the market, and thus I utilised the opportunity to observe the everyday life of this area. What amazed me was how such a small place had almost everything one might need –  a hospital, taxi stand, a café, shops, and a hotel, all existing together.

On the third day, I visited Government Primary School, Parkachik.

This school was located very far from the mainland, almost at the top of a mountain. It felt like the last structure on that route, beyond which the road itself disappeared.

It took nearly four and a half hours to reach there, but the journey itself was unforgettable.

Along the way, I observed small hamlets, traditional houses, cattle, and the crops people were growing in the fields. I loved the quietness and peace of the place.

A journey beyond landscapes

People here surprised me with the warmth and naturalness of their hospitality.

Here, people often welcome guests with dry fruits first, and honestly, someone like me immediately falls for that kind of hospitality.I was clearly an outsider here, so whenever people offered me Chai or Kahwa, they kindly asked whether I preferred sugar or salt in it. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to try the salty Chai there.

I also learned several interesting things about life in Kargil. Since the climate is harsh and local production is limited, shopkeepers import many essential goods from Kashmir. As a result, things are comparatively expensive. For instance, I got bananas here at 200 rupees per dozen, something I have never experienced in eastern India where I belong.

Another interesting observation my mentor shared and which I also noticed myself was related to houses. Traditionally, Ladakhi houses are build out of stone and wood. However, many bourgeois or financially well-off families now build houses using imported bricks. Interestingly, they often leave the bricks unplastered so these remain visible.

After all, if someone spends so much on imported bricks, perhaps they also want others to notice it.

More than a journey – a lesson of resilience

In the end, I must say that although I have visited several places, I emotionally connected with Kargil in a very different way. I had always wanted to visit this region, and now I know I will return again someday.

There is an abundance to learn here about life and living –  how people collaborate with nature, how communities survive difficult climates, and how they continue to thrive even after the deep scars left by the Kargil War.

The resilience and sustenance here are extraordinary. I truly feel fortunate that I got the opportunity not only to visit Kargil, but to live there for a few days and observe it through a learner’s perspective.

More than a journey, it became an experience of understanding realities of witnessing endurance, simplicity, hospitality, and resilience in their rawest forms.

REFERENCE:

1) Barmaiya, Palak. “Ladakh: Sustainable Living and Learning Through Alternative Education.” Pulitzer Center, August 4, 2017. https://pulitzercenter.org/stories/ladakh-sustainable-living-and-learning-through-alternative-education.

2) Ghosh, Chirashree, Anindita Roy Saha, and Kunzang Dolma. “Life in Ladakh (India): The Changpas of Changthang.” International Research Journal of Social Sciences 9, no. 2 (2020): 57–63. Accessed via ResearchGate. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/343472629_Life_in_Ladakh.