<p>Kashmir—everyone’s dream destination! We were excited when an opportunity arose to visit this paradise. We landed in Srinagar on a fine summer day and immediately I felt the nip in the air suffusing my whole body. Snow-clad mountains stood like sentinels, far from the hustle and bustle of an urban mayhem.</p>.<p>Due to security reasons at the time, we were escorted to a bus and taken to the tourist office in the city centre. There, hoteliers and travel agents swarmed around us, persuading us to patronise their hotels. I joined in the haggling and managed to secure a good deal.</p>.<p>After collecting our luggage, we were about to leave for the hotel when a shabbily dressed local approached me. “Saab, you like houseboat?” he asked. I have always been fascinated by houseboats, and his question piqued my interest. When I hesitated, he pressed me, “Please try my boat. It will be a unique experience to lie down and let the waters of Dal Lake lap your feet.” His sales pitch was persuasive, but I had already booked a hotel room.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Seeing my predicament, he took me aside and pleaded, “why don’t you come with me, <span class="italic">saab</span>, and take a look at my houseboat. You can then choose where you want to stay.”</p>.<p class="bodytext">“Where is your houseboat?” I asked him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">“It’s only a stone’s throw,” he said. “We can go and come back in no time,” he assured me. So, leaving the children at the tourist office in the care of my wife, I went to inspect his houseboat. After walking for about two km in the biting cold, I had my first panoramic view of Dal Lake dotted with <span class="italic">shikaras</span> gliding over the water. What a breathtaking sight! I also had a look around the interior of the <span class="italic">shikara</span>. It was not five-star comfort, but it afforded a beautiful natural environment. My host was full of warmth and charm. After the tour, he insisted that I have a cup of tea in his traditional crockery, while he regaled me with stories of Kashmir. </p>.<p class="bodytext">It was late by the time I hurried back to the bus depot and my brood. But my dear family was nowhere to be seen! They had disappeared in a strange place, with no one to care for them. Panic set in as I frantically searched for them. The counters were closing one by one, as flights were prohibited after nightfall. After repeated enquiries at the bus depot, I finally met someone who took me to an inner room. They were there—my wife and children—safe and sound! </p>.<p class="bodytext">The good Samaritan had not only provided shelter to the children, but also seen to it that they were well fed. When I expressed my gratitude, he berated me for my negligence. I swallowed his well-deserved harangue quietly. But for him my paradise could have been lost even before I had put one foot in it. </p>.<p class="bodytext">This incident was not without consequences; I had to endure my wife’s wrath for months on end.</p>
<p>Kashmir—everyone’s dream destination! We were excited when an opportunity arose to visit this paradise. We landed in Srinagar on a fine summer day and immediately I felt the nip in the air suffusing my whole body. Snow-clad mountains stood like sentinels, far from the hustle and bustle of an urban mayhem.</p>.<p>Due to security reasons at the time, we were escorted to a bus and taken to the tourist office in the city centre. There, hoteliers and travel agents swarmed around us, persuading us to patronise their hotels. I joined in the haggling and managed to secure a good deal.</p>.<p>After collecting our luggage, we were about to leave for the hotel when a shabbily dressed local approached me. “Saab, you like houseboat?” he asked. I have always been fascinated by houseboats, and his question piqued my interest. When I hesitated, he pressed me, “Please try my boat. It will be a unique experience to lie down and let the waters of Dal Lake lap your feet.” His sales pitch was persuasive, but I had already booked a hotel room.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Seeing my predicament, he took me aside and pleaded, “why don’t you come with me, <span class="italic">saab</span>, and take a look at my houseboat. You can then choose where you want to stay.”</p>.<p class="bodytext">“Where is your houseboat?” I asked him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">“It’s only a stone’s throw,” he said. “We can go and come back in no time,” he assured me. So, leaving the children at the tourist office in the care of my wife, I went to inspect his houseboat. After walking for about two km in the biting cold, I had my first panoramic view of Dal Lake dotted with <span class="italic">shikaras</span> gliding over the water. What a breathtaking sight! I also had a look around the interior of the <span class="italic">shikara</span>. It was not five-star comfort, but it afforded a beautiful natural environment. My host was full of warmth and charm. After the tour, he insisted that I have a cup of tea in his traditional crockery, while he regaled me with stories of Kashmir. </p>.<p class="bodytext">It was late by the time I hurried back to the bus depot and my brood. But my dear family was nowhere to be seen! They had disappeared in a strange place, with no one to care for them. Panic set in as I frantically searched for them. The counters were closing one by one, as flights were prohibited after nightfall. After repeated enquiries at the bus depot, I finally met someone who took me to an inner room. They were there—my wife and children—safe and sound! </p>.<p class="bodytext">The good Samaritan had not only provided shelter to the children, but also seen to it that they were well fed. When I expressed my gratitude, he berated me for my negligence. I swallowed his well-deserved harangue quietly. But for him my paradise could have been lost even before I had put one foot in it. </p>.<p class="bodytext">This incident was not without consequences; I had to endure my wife’s wrath for months on end.</p>
