Seasonal shades of Kashmir

“Gar firdaus, bar-rue zamin ast, hamin asto, hamin asto, hamin ast.” Amir Khusrau’s words echo through Kashmir’s valleys, and I’ve been fortunate to witness this paradise across three mesmerizing seasons.

Our first visit was in summer—a road trip through Patnitop’s lush hills to Srinagar. A peaceful shikara ride on Dal Lake made the evening unforgettable, as we floated past lotus blooms and mirrored reflections. The day ended on a serene houseboat, sipping kahwa under a starlit sky. Gulmarg greeted us with meadows, wildflowers, and waterfalls. Rain didn’t dampen our spirits; hot aloo paranthas and tea kept us warm before we explored the valley on horseback and ATVs. Though we missed St Mary’s Church, its charm stayed with me.

Years later, winter called us back. Gulmarg had transformed into a snow-covered wonderland. Frozen waterfalls, skiing trails, and the crisp mountain air left me spellbound. Determined to fulfil my earlier wish, I took a sledge to St Mary’s Church and spent quiet moments in solitude, my fingers tingling from the cold.

Then in spring, we were invited once again — this time by a friend posted in Srinagar — and we couldn’t resist the call of Kashmir in bloom. We flew in, excited to witness the valley’s floral transformation. Our stay at a Scottish cottage inside the Royal Spring Golf Course felt like a dream. Blossoms in pink, yellow, and purple carpeted the grounds, filling the air with fragrance.

The next day, we visited the famed Tulip Garden. Rows of tulips swayed gently with the Zabarwan hills in the backdrop. It was like stepping into a painting — calm, colourful, unforgettable.

Now, my heart longs for autumn — when Chinar trees turn crimson and the valley glows in golden hues. Kashmir isn’t just a destination—it’s an emotion, a timeless poem written in snowflakes, blossoms, and falling leaves.

And I’m still reading.

Manav Mander, Ludhiana