It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end...
- Ursula K. LeGuin
Aru brings back the memories of Kafnu in Kinnaur valley, a dark shade of cludy green punched against perennial drizzles, the faint beams of a sun somewhere gazing at the wet floor down below, now nonchalantly moving around the damp...
We did give Srinagar another shot on return from Naranag, but the din shoved us back up, even if for a couple of days, and a five hour jam at Pahalgam... paradise would ne'er have metalled roads, pretty certain are we, again...
There is a protected reserve around the valley, a good site for bird watching and treks galore for happy feet, ours were a bit damp and constrained by those of the suited polity down in the city, other companions, did manage to stretch it, nevertheless…
Watched kids play, rolled around in slippery mud, talked to a few, clicked the rest, ached our way back to the cottage, the owner reminiscing on his dreams of running a big travel operation, dismissing our envy of the small town fabric with a ‘grass is greener on the other side’ shrug…
Morning arrives, Karan and Praveen; Tarsar and Marsar, days on he spare… us then?... back to the madhouse called Srinagar, DJs at Dal lake and the worthless cries of a pedestrian…