Not Kashmir Again!

Previously on Welcome to Kashmir, I had left Srinagar in a huff, for Leh, the Buddhist city in the Ladakh region of Jammu & Kashmir. Two week later, instead of heading on to Manali, as would be logical, I was back in Srinagar. No, I am not a glutton for punishment. In my haste to leave, I didn't get a chance to return the sim card that my friend Arshad had lent me.

Because of terrorism or the threat of terrorism in the state of Jammu & Kashmir, prepaid sim cards from outside the sate will not work inside the state and vice versa. My sim card from Bangalore, was useless. And Arshad's sim card did not even work in the Ladakh region.

Now, Arshad is a good guy, really, he is...I think... But he did want to take me on a week long shikara ride for the discounted price of 30,000 Rs, about $600. This was something he had planned and was looking forward to ever since we met in Varkala Beach. He and his boss were a bit disappointed when I told them that at more than $80 a day, this was way outside my budget, and I would not do it.

From Arshad's perspective, he thought this was something I would want to do; something we could do together; and it just happened to be what he does for a living in the summer, and he could charge me less than any other shikara operator. From my perspective, I saw a seven-month sales strategy for an activity, which I'm not sure I would want to do even if the price was right. But I would have done it, if it was reasonably close to my budget.

So anyway, I took the overnight bus from Leh back to Srinagar. When I arrived at the bus station, Shabir was there hustling for guests, so I decided to stay at his place again, rather than haggle with someone else over price. He suggested that I might want to stay in his houseboat instead, so I went to take a look at it. It was a creaky little thing, access to which was through a barbed wire maze and a police check post. I preferred to stay in the guest house, even though they had not yet fixed the sewer problem in the alley.

It was Friday, and my plan for the day was to visit Jamia Masjid to see a little of Islam-in-action, i.e. violence after the midday prayers. When I told Shabir that I wanted to visit the mosque, he said “No! Don't go into the old city, not on a Friday.” I said that I wanted to go because it was Friday. He said “It will be dangerous for you. They will be throwing stones.” I said I knew. That was why I wanted to go.

He was literally begging me not to go. Eventually, he conceded that he could not stop me from going, but he suggested that I dress like them and let everyone know my name is Jamile. (Jamile is a Muslim name, usually spelled Jamil, Jameel or جميل in the Arabic.)

I did not go. It was already nearly midday, and I was really tired, as I did not get any sleep on the bus. I went to bed instead. Having missed my chance to visit the mosque on a Friday, and with nothing more of particular interest to me, I left the next morning for Jammu. At the entrance to the tunnel, it says, “Thank you. Please visit the Kashmir valley again.” I smiled and thought, “not likely.”

To be fair, there are better guest houses and houseboats in Srinagar, but they tend to move out of the budget category. Indeed, Indian tourist go to Srinagar and spend lots of money to live in luxury on a houseboat for a day or two. Also there are other places I did not particularly like, and I don't say anything about them. But because Kashmir is touted as this amazing paradise, I thought I'd let you know, it didn't seem like it to me.