It was morning and a last look at Khajjiar meadows —a spot of Kashmir in Himachal
Morning
shone bright and sunny—only innocuous wisps of cloud in the sea blue sky, the
dark wet night now behind us. My friend informed us that the day’s journey back
to Jammu would be long and we would have to start early. With little time in
hand I didn’t feel like going down to the vast gently undulating grassy meadow
and confined myself to the strip of lawn in front of our rest house.
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| Rest house |
We
had already finished a light breakfast and packed our baggage. Being the youngest, Tukai carried
the bulk of the luggage. Through the two tall trees our downtown, yet to be crowded
by day tourists, looked deserted. Another lazy day starting at Khajjiar lake.
Not for us though—we would have to go back to our busy city life. I felt a
slight pang of uneasiness.
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| Uncrowded downtown |
The
vast Khajjiar ground with the lake at its center was nearly on its own. Two
men reclined on the grass carpet facing the lake. Nothing moved to disturb the
picture perfection. Even the unmoving lazing duo looked fine—their low-voiced
occasional words quickly lost in fresh morning air.
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| Lazy lake at peace |
While
I was enjoying my last moments with the meadow, Tukai was busy getting the
water bottles replenished for the day. It would be a long journey with not much
of facilities on the way.
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| Replenishment for the long journey |
Yesterday I took a small path behind this cottage that
led to a flight of stairs reaching the main road. And my birds sang for me.
But today
it is go-time. The half open old wrought-iron gate may not see me again. I
stepped down through the gate with one look back to the cottage.
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| May not see me enter again |
The
walkway curved away from me on the left with a single bench nearby and the man
reading his morning paper—as if it was his own private garden—what luxury!
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| Quiet morning at Khajjiar lake |
I
turned round towards the far corner. The cottage no more looked lonely—it was
smiling in the morning sun. As if nothing had happened last night. But more
than the cottage, when I looked at the wall of tall deodars closely, its
grandeur took my breath away. Perhaps I could have stayed here for life—amongst
these tall trees, reading my favorite book during leisurely mornings and
walking alone on the vast grass carpet deep into the night.
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| Green grandeur |
A
sudden movement caught my eyes. The running couple melted away the last trace
of lingering doubt in my mind. They must be coming from the corner cottage and
it had no unpredictability any more—I felt reassured.
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| Catch me if you can |
The car bumped along the grassy strip below the
cottages and at the corner of the meadow negotiated a short steep stretch
to reach the main road. As I knew from my exploration last evening, the road went
straight first and then turned. The Khajjiar lake disappeared behind.
I liked this part of the scenery. The trees here as
usual tall but they were not always able to reach road level—the hillside went
down quite steeply.
In a
short while my friend stopped the car and parked it by the side of the road. He pointed
ahead, “That is the Khajji Naga temple. Would you like to see it?”
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| Khajji Naga temple |
Tukai and I both became excited—our first real snow
view in Khajjiar.
The way ahead was long—with Jammu more than 200 kms
away, we decided not to spend much time with the 1000 year old sacred temple.
The towering figure of Nagadeva, the serpent god with a sweet serene smile silently
stood taller than the trees, the five Pandavas made of wood stood in their
places in the temple, we moved ahead, but not for long.
I was in constant lookout for a good viewpoint from
the moving car. In a few minutes my friend had to stop the car again. “I will
take a little time here,” I told my friend apologetically. After all he had to
do the arduous driving.
Far away
the snow range at low elevation rose from the series of deep green rolling
hills. The raw nature, specially the thick green cover gave me pleasure.
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| Far away snow range |
Where
unaided human eye can’t reach human artifact can. I looked closer through the
lenses.
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| Closer view of Pir Panjal range |
This is the Pir Panjal mountain range running from
east-southeast to west-northwest across Himachal Pradesh. The highest peak in
this lower Himalayan range is Indrasan (6221m). Further to the right should be
Dhauladhar behind the bend.
Nowhere in between I could detect any sign of human
civilization—it seemed to be all the way wilderness till the snow range.
Personally snow views unadorned by greenery I don’t
like. Here I feasted my eyes on the scene. Though the snow range was very far, it
shone like a diamond girdle on the green crown.
Before
leaving I wanted to have a still closer look on the icy mountains. Yes, there
they stand—raw majesty.
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| Raw majesty |
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