Mauritian Student in Kashmir

Mauritius Times – 70 Years

By Hossenjee Edoo

“Who has not heard the vale of Cashmere
With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave
Its temples and grottos and fountains as clear
As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave”
— Thomas Moore

Some weeks ago, one fine Sunday evening, we reached the Venice of the East. We were going to spend our holidays in the land of beauty and majestic scenes. Students from twenty-six different countries formed a great family of nations for at least thirty days. It was the summer camp organised by the Indian Council for Cultural Relations for the overseas scholars studying in different Indian universities. Happy were we to meet colleagues hailing from all parts of the world.

At Srinagar, first, we went to visit the famous Shankarachar named after the great philosopher Shankaracharya, more formally known as Adi Shankara, who visited the valley some ten centuries ago. It is a detached ridge of igneous rock to the south-east of Srinagar. On the summit, there is a temple built by King Sandiman (2629-2564 BC). Though the three hundred golden and silver images are no more, Shankarachar is still crowned by this glorious edifice to remind the generations that it was there that once the famous sage who died at the very young age of twenty-nine was initiated into the Shakti cult by Abinaugupta. The panoramic view from the summit of the hill is one of the best that could ever be witnessed! The mountain ranges varying in height “jut out like the teeth of a saw cutting through the sky.” From there, the whole panorama is a wonderful dream.

Srinagar is a city of bridges, canoes and houseboats. Therefore, we went for a “Skikara ride” so that we might cross the seven bridges which are the sentinels of this lovely city. The weather was fine, and the sun was shining brightly. Everything looked golden under the radiant and dazzling rays. The water was calm, the wind was caressing, the sky was azure, blue, and the clouds moved no more. Far away, the blue mountains were dreaming at the heavenly beauty of nature. Wherever we turned, we found nothing but indescribable sceneries. The imperial chenar trees, with their trefoil leaves, were majestically wonderful to the lovers of nature. On and on, our canoes ploughed their way. The whole atmosphere was embalmed with unearthly air. We paddled for Dal Lake, Nagin Lake and many other lakes shining like huge plates under the golden rays of the sun. We rowed and rowed. We feasted our eyes and yet we were never fed up. We had one of the happiest moments of our lives. It was time to return because the trip was over. We saw Srinagar and her heavenly sights. Flowers here, flowers there and flowers everywhere!

Our next camp was to be at Gulmarg — meadow of flowers. It is twenty-five miles from Srinagar via Magam. We reached Tanmarg by bus and from there, we were to go on poneys. A horde of bearers swarmed on us as soon as we landed. Countless poneys were idling themselves some few yards from the bus stop. We did not know what to do. Anyhow it was a nice scene to the eyes of the observers.

After some forty-five minutes ride, we reached the Switzerland of India. It was Gulmarg with its snow-capped mountains, its green turf, its beautiful landscapes and sceneries. It was very cold, and we all shivered like leaves. It was the coldest night that was ever experienced at Gulmarg. The wind was biting and, at times, it was unbearable. Amidst beauty and splendour, we forgot everything. Days and nights vanished like pleasant dreams. We went on horse-riding and mountain climbing. We all had a nice time at Meadow of Flowers. During the night, “camp-fire” was held just to warm ourselves for the chilly beds. But alas! Who could escape the cold of Gulmarg!

From Gulmarg, we moved to Pahalgam — the third beautiful resort for holidaymakers. It is sixty-one miles from Srinagar. The drive through the rice field and the sceneries is grand. The mountains with their snow-capped peaks were so beautiful that we all were enraptured. The babbling brooks, the evergreen meadows under the summer sun, the smiling hills of the vicinity, the twittering “laughing doves”, the melodious wind playing through the branches of the trees, brought the visitors into an ethereal world. Those were happy days! We went for a pleasure pony ride, and some who were adventurous embarked on an expedition to the famous Kolahoi Glacier. Those who weren’t feeling as daring went to Chandanwari to see the Snow Bridge. It was about eleven miles from Pahalgam, and we had to go by pony. The journey was very tiresome and arduous. As for me, it was one of the toughest journeys I’ve ever undertaken in my life.

Many of my friends, including myself, could not sit nor walk when the journey was over. It was nice to see ourselves taking our meals in a standing position! Farewell, Chandanwari and your Snow Bridge! The days were over at Pahalgam, and we were to return once more to the romantic city, Srinagar.

As usual, we were invited by Mr Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, the Premier of Jammu and Kashmir. It was a tea party given in honour of the overseas students. We were very glad because we were going to see a man who rose from the very humble position of a primary schoolteacher to the Premiership. On the political scene, Mr Bakshi is the most controversial figure. He is much liked by people, but this does not mean that he has no enemies. Finally, a tall imposing figure appeared on the scene. Charming in manners, he won our admiration. He mixed freely and talked in friendly ways. He impressed us very much with his jovial face. He went from table to table and shook hands with all the students with his traditional smile on his cultured lips. He fed us with “Kabab” with his own hands, and he joked as a real teacher. Such a man is the kind Premier. It was time for us to leave, and he dismissed us with the famous words — Khuda Haafiz. Jai Hind!

We shall carry a happy memory of you, Mr Bakshi Mohammad!

7th Year – No 306
Friday 8th July 1960

Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 23 May 2025