A Photo-Ethnographic Study, India, Jammu and Kashmir, Photographic Stories, Save the Birdman of Kashmir, Tales from Rural India, The Great Himalayan Road Journey to Baltistan, The Higher Himalayan Research Walks and Treks
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Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of heaven and birds in Kashmir- IV

On the Road to Baltistan, continuing from


Call of the Now- I

Life and nothing more- II

Road will tell you- III


: ँ :

If you want to know the future. Hear intently, Maharaj Ji had told me once.

We touched the border of Jammu and Kashmir the next morning, leaving behind the man and the experience with him to Himachal, but I. As I drove through the ironed curves of Dhauladhar mountains in that quiet dark night, man’s face kept appearing in front of me, his words had found a way into my mind, flashing back and again like an old printing machine with all the noise, repeating all night almost like a soundless GIF, “Who am I”.

Even if I put away the madman tag, what an important question for life it was, Who am I, I literally asked myself, A traveller, a writer may be, or at least a teacher. but is that it? Is that really all who i am. Would that be enough to go with the last breath? And what if I am to come back again on Earth? Would I like to live this life all over again; same, travelling, going to Kashmir just like right now, again! Who in a world of having no time asks this any more, but it was asked! And more so after stopping a moving car in the middle of a jungle at night, meeting eye to eye like meaning it. As I kept thinking why in the first place it could have happened, that too just before starting for Kashmir? Could it be a message from above? Or an otherworldly intervention, or was it a signal from the divine mother for me to think harder on the longest, possibly the loneliest drive of the night.


The Days of Nectar

Entering Kashmir, Young Chinar trees

The last time when I left Kashmir, it was a time of great turmoil; for this land and possibly for the whole Asia at large. The government had whispered loudly at whim that something big is going to happen. Anyone not Kashmiri must leave the valley by 5th August. Two years ago, today.  

Uncertainty unsettled the order whatever little there used to be in the valley. It was rather a fear filled time as rumour of war with Pakistan spread like wildfire. And people in thousands started leaving daily, fearing for their blood, leaving Kashmir for far away places they might feel safer at; where guns cannot be heard anymore like eagles screech. Shops were shutting for good and roads were being blocked like never to open, streets felt like abandoned hotel rooms. The silence in the air carried thorns, anger in the people; the one who were leaving, and even the ones staying.

Around that period, away from it all, before any such information became news; I had already left for the walk of my life, away from any civilisation, amongst the purest of waters and to meet the rarest of trees that can only be found at that height- the sacred bhojpatra trees seen only in the higher Himalayas. I was even above the cotton boats of altocumulus clouds, with Rasool. It was a phase of great flow, as it seemed centring around me and pushing towards nature, with love, with a goal.  

The sacred Bhojpatra trees

Yagya pulled up at peerah, a small village in Ramban district on the Jammu-Srinagar highway. This place is known for its local lentils and serves the most delicious Rajma-Rice in India, which comes doused in pure desi cow ghee along with tangy pomegranate chutney.

Before the pandemic when I was visiting Kashmir, even for work in villages far, I tried coming back in the night to eat with Rasool, on his boat Solomon and sheeba, but more because of his birds, at his bird park.

Rasool was a compassionate cook; never ate curd in the night and advised me never too. An exemplary and aware caretaker, tuned with nature, even to an extent that he could tell when the fishes under his boat were most active or still, mindful of each sound and when any of his bird would need what! He used to wake up at the same time each morning and after his only little prayer, used to fold his quilt and his sheets. It isn’t a big thing as I am of the same habit but it were his hands, the way they worked through creases with rare precision and patience, and it extended to every aspect of his life; it was a delight to watch him put things in better shape each passing day. His voice which gave me the sight of the days gone, of when Kashmir was heaven, and Dal used to be a place of contemplation and poetry, of old souls sharing wisdom and numerous stories of birds and fantasy. He was a magnet that nature had put in charge of, there were stories of him magically pulling many birds out of danger whom he used to take care of like his own children. For all my days filled with his stories, he became my discerning door.

Rasool always carried a bag and in it used to be radio. Here, hearing old Kashmiri folk songs

Rasool seemed to know time because he knew water. Not because he was born on the banks of the ancient river vitasta/Jhelum but because he had become a boatman very early like his father, just like his father’s father.

I didn’t know then why Rasool had insisted of coming along with me to the sacred mountains of Amarnath. But It will only be later, much later one afternoon on a mountain peak, after a steep ascend we were sitting to catch our breathes back, quietly gazing at the top of the mountain tops when words arrived on his tongue just like silence appears out of nowhere: Narayan, do you know why I am here today? I kept my silence. I couldn’t see my father when he died. I wasn’t there. He had stopped me from leaving home but I left regardless and all my life i have been living with this guilt that i couldn’t even gave my hands for his body. I wasn’t there with him when he wanted me most and it had needled me every moment. You know, when he was young, he too came on this yatra, with someone like you, his friend. I remembered his stories of bathing in the coldest waters of Sheshnag. When you told me you were going, a voice inside me asked to go along with you, for not that you were alone but I wanted to live what my father lived, somewhere in between I thought I will meet him. And it is you who made it possible.

Lake Sheshnag at 3600m on the way to Amarnath, Kashmir

It did not take much time for us to learn that something is in the offing, it had been some time we were sitting here and no one had come after us since we had started. It was rather nothing short of alchemy to be experiencing this sort of fulfilment in nowhere-ness, in nothingness. To see almost no one when there used to be thousands walking on other days through this entire stretch. Yet at every kilometre or two there were people from different states who had come only to serve food, alms, tea and have made tents to rest for the pilgrims, but even then there was a feeling of deterioration like something is not right, a feeling of decay, of its over.

Tents at many places were left open without anyone guarding them anymore. We walked with elderly Sadhus, devotees, few pilgrims from southern Indian states, and village women walking barefoot on the freezing earth, all were seen making it slowly through this old, revered way. We experienced a stark change in the way the most beautiful landscape greeted us but in people, who one by one were leaving carrying their tents, leaving the land empty and sooner, for a rumour floating in the air that the war is going to happen. This news came at a time when I and Rasool entered the holy waters at Sheshnag, a word came loud and clear possibly directed towards us from the passing by army men. Leave.

Army guys taking selfies at Sheshnag

Suddenly i realised we were entering the legendary Jawahar Tunnel; the only link that joins Kashmir with rest of India, apart from faraway highway that joins Laddakh through Himachal. That sweet melancholic pang arrived around my navel on the first sight of the valley that I will be seeing Rasool again, and his only family. Eight swans, eleven ducks, almost innumerable roosters, sheep, lambs and one badly injured king cockerel who became my best friend, whom I loved feeding all day, he must have recovered by now. But there were still many hours before we would be home, in Srinagar.

When Rasool and I descended from the sacred heights, soon after the remark by the army man, and reached home the next day late in the night, the birds went quiet, and Rasool started crying. The Swans had been stolen, Rasool said, sobbing. It could have been for meat or money. After asking neighbours we learnt that three days ago, certain butcher was seen taking them away. His heart pounded, almost collapsing with his head down between his legs. It took a lot of heart and talking with him to make him stand up and walk again with a renewed energy. Sometimes however strong a man is, he only needs someone who be by his side. After a rally of hope and reassuring words, early next morning we rowed for three hours around the lake to reach another lake Nageen where the said man was. And even before we had touched the land, he heard from far that all the swans and the babies are still alive. They were misbehaved with, were tied like prisoners for last four days, haven’t been fed well and were mishandled; he single-handedly took all of them out untying them one after other without a single word exchanged with the man, the thief who was stunned, stood watching. Rasool walked out carrying them like myself, putting them back onto the boat as I rowed back to our birdhouse carrying smiles and the loudest of laughs that Dal must have experienced on that afternoon. I could make a small one minute film of that wonder of what happened, us saving the local Swans.

a must watch for every bird lover

After reaching back when I asked Rasool how did he do it as no one came forward to stop him in their own home, he told me, you know Narayan when I reached, it was not me who reached first, it was my smell, and the big swan the moment he realised I have come he started crying out loud, and hearing him all the babies started honking and hissing in excitement, it was their strength that I could carry them back, otherwise I would have never done what i did if I was alone, thank you.

Injured and still that night i made a portrait of the father swan for myself


While it all kept coming back in flashes, we reached Srinagar around evening and decided to stay not in any houseboat as we needed to park the car and leave early but stayed right in front of Rasool’s houseboat, at a hotel close to the Shankaracharya hill.

Two years doesn’t feel a long time but when a place like Kashmir and someone you know goes through such tumultuous experiences one after other, each passing moment starts feeling like an eternity. For Kashmiris, even more the ones living on water, everyday life has become a curse. The boatmen of Kashmir are left far behind not just by their own people but even time. Houseboats have now become things of the past or so people say. High maintenance and no tourists in last decade has resulted in boatmen taking up day jobs as a labour or salesmen.

Reshu contemplating when i found her just like that, at her houseboat in Dal
Untended grasses growing at the backyard of Houseboats in Dal

Even though houseboats evoke a curiosity and amusement but for long terrorism and now this Pandemic has pierced their hope of any revival. Today these houseboats stand like a non-recycle-able waste, i told Yagya, as we kept our bags in the room, Kashmir is like home for me, this region, its memory is intertwined in my mind just like water knows its source, and here it is this big old sea, Dal.

Dal is as Old as the first universal sound. It was here, it is said that the first freshest water from the Himalayas got collected when the ice started melting, or so became Kashmir, it is but a collection of water.

We came out of our hotel, cross the road, got a boat and arrived at Soloman and Sheeba.

The dawn of sadness arose within me when while walking on those wooden planks again, gingerly unwinding my way through those crackling wooden sounds, excited to see the birds first, but as i turned right to see there was no one, none at all at the back of the houseboat, it was all dead, lifeless, almost without water; grasses had grown taller than the houses, were not tended to for months, park seemed to be falling apart. The only bird park in the whole wide Dal, which Rasool and I worked on tirelessly three years ago which was his only family as much I made it now looked comatose, bare. The swans, sheep, lambs all were sold during the Pandemic.

Rasool seemed out of light when I met him. Let alone happy so much that he couldn’t even smile when he opened his gates, which he does not open anymore for anyone. Everything is over Narayan. There is no income at all here. No one wants to come to Kashmir anymore. I am in pain constantly and I don’t have any more energy to work. I only wish to leave quietly now.

There was nothing much at this time that I could do or say, it was completely opposite of what i had thought. At least children would have come in these times of staying at home during the virus had i had helped him somehow; to feed the birds, sitting, watching them play. We will leave tomorrow morning, i told Rasool, lets go to our doctor friend, he knows you, lets get some tests done. We’ll get to know the cause of the pain and i will come back soon. He refused to even move. I tried again asking him to come out to at least eat something that evening but it didn’t seem he had any appetite.

It was the moment i was almost about to leave, Rasool shouted from behind, Narayan, wait let me wear something, i will come.

Classy Rasool walking with his bag and a Radio in it

Before we took Rasool to eat, i pulled him in to meet with the doctor who had become a friend in my previous visits. I asked him that we need to get his tests done tomorrow. Meanwhile as Dr. Bashir took his time to look at Rasool, I walked towards the hospital balcony to look at the most beautiful Chinar. Under it was a blood donation camp. As I am told my blood is rare, I felt like offering some to whomsoever, to Kashmir.

In Anantnag, with Rasool when times were better
The Keeper, the one who taught me to be a boatman, rowing from Char chinar to Nageen Lake
In happier times, while going to Bemina, to his friend’s place, whistling on Kishor Kumar song
Backyard, Rasool’s bird Park
Either she had found him, or he found her; injured when Rasool made sure she remains safe and alive

We never know life Rasool bhai, I told him on our way back, holding his hand when the time came to leave him that evening, this bird park is important but we will see what can be done. First is your health.

On the road next morning, as we were leaving behind the Pir panjals, driving past this paradise on earth, I realised that actually paradise is only where care is, where love for the other has some space to bloom. Heaven lies in the relationships that we create, because for sure I do not have any one heaven; and just like in Kashmir my heart lies with my children in Turtuk, the last village on the indo-Pakistan border. Cold like Ice. In the foothills of Siachin glacier, where the Himalayas are left behind and Karakorams arrive, giving way to the valley of grief, the valley of river Shyok, where my students live. This Omni’s last stop.


: ँ :


This was the last image i made of Rasool before we left. The reports came out for more tests to be done as soon as it can be done. I wanted to share with you all that i am going to try and arrange a crowdfunding campaign for him soon; for however i can help him and the Bird park sustain, i will try my best.

If anyone who is here reading this post and feels like helping, contributing, coming over to help, anything, there will be no greater joy and gratitude.

: ँ :

If you have anything to share, write or ever feel like saying a hello, please write to me at narayankaudinya@gmail.com

To follow other ethnographical and short excerpts of stories from rural India, find me at narxtara and Road to Nara

165 Comments

  1. Pingback: Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of heaven and birds in Kashmir- IV – Nelsapy

  2. Outstanding post on Kashmir,Narainji !I can visualize how you felt about Kashmir in those old times!I have been to Kashmir twice (1986 &2012)which has always been my favourite destination!Kindly find time to go through my Kashmir blog descibing both visits!All the best

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much for your words Dhirendra Ji. I can only sigh of the olden days of 1986, it must have been some other world at that time, quaint and filled with people. I will Dhirendra ji find out your Kashmir post.

      Nara x

      Liked by 1 person

      • Thanks for your nice words of encouragement!In 1986 we stayed at hotel Neelam in Lal Chowk and in 2012 when we went to the spot, we were told that terrorists had blown the hotel bombing it!And there were hundreds of security in the Area! Let’s hope the atmosphere again becomes normal &Kashmir is fully freed from the shadow of terrorism 🌷

        Like

  3. I waited with anticipation for this extraordinary installment, and it is beyond good, it is fantastic!
    This writer knows how to touch our hearts, wake up our souls, and stops us to ask the most important question: “Who am I?” The details of the visit to his beloved Kashmir, the adventures with the stolen swans, the tragic fate of the beautiful valley, devastated by the pandemic, will move your heart and fascinate the readers around the world, maybe even filmmakers, of this best in India writers, whose ability to create unique masterpieces is comparable only to Tagore, first Indian’s The Nobel Price winner.
    The photos should one day be in a gallery as a document of the changes in India. and they are not only poignant but beautiful as well.
    I will come back because you need to read it a few times to fully appreciate the wonder of his writing.

    Joanna

    Liked by 4 people

    • Your reviews my dear nature are beyond mere views. You point out as if i want to say yes this was it, this was what i wanted to say. You are the most kind my dearest. I hope you could see the video where Rasool and I went in the boat to save the birds 🙂

      Like

    • Not because you are writing for Narayan, but you who see, know and feel it all, only because you are yourself nature, may be what i desire to be even of the smallest amount makes you the most cherished, and important reviewer of all.

      Like

    • It was only and only because of Rasool i could see and be in Kashmir as much as this land of the ancient waters wanted. And to let me learn rowing on it, to become a keeper, the boatman on it. It was important for me to let it out, not because of travel writing but purely it needed Rasool to come out in the world of terror, and even after decades of violence he could do something so essential for the birds, for himself and it was time to give him some due, my nature. It is important for him to live, to spread care around.

      And i thank you with my heart, with all your help i am able to, little by little. It is only because of you.

      Narayan x

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      • Your praise, Narayan, is to be cherished forever!! I don’t think I deserve it but I can only thank you with my words, have we lived in the same country, I could spoil you with
        an exquisite dinner. Perhaps, one day?
        And you are a hugely talented writer, so please keep on writing.

        Joanna x

        Like

  4. KK says

    This is a mesmerising account of the visit interspersed with amazing pics. The swan story is really fascinating. Once I had visited Kashmir, but after reading your posts, I think I have left so many beautiful aspects, the real essence, untouched. Finally, I liked the most..paradise is only where care is.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you so much Kaushal Ji, you in your few words shared your essence of being in Kashmir. Whenever you plan to go next with family, do remember to let me know. I will try making that experience like a stay at home away from home.

      Liked by 1 person

      • KK says

        So nice of you and your kind gesture, Narayan ji. Will definitely let you know when I plan next. Thank you.

        Liked by 1 person

      • KK says

        I’m not fast. My posts are short ones. I serve breakfasts, while you serve dinners. Sau sunar ki ek lohar ki. Thank you again for your kind words and support.

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        • haha.. kaushal ji nahi aisa bilkul bhi nahi hai. You are brilliant and gifted. I read about your journey. It was not just how you achieved but with what enthusiasm you carried through your work and life besides work, and it can be seen in your beautiful couplets, poems, writings on nature and opinions. Rarely we find someone like you.

          With Gratitude
          Narayan x

          Liked by 1 person

          • KK says

            I’m elated by your generous words. I’m humbled. Thank you so so much for everything. It’s my pleasure to meet a multifaceted personality like you. Thank you, Narayan ji. My regards..

            Like

  5. I am very moved by your story, your words and images. I sit here in the early morning contemplating beginnings and endings, peace found within. Thank you.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Dan, how lovely to have your beautiful words. Made me happy and really filled me with the feeling of content after reading from you. Thank you so much.
      Nara x

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    • Just wanted to know Dan if you have taken out your profile image as i cannot see nothing there like before.

      Anyways, thank you again for these words
      Nara x

      Like

      • Thanks for telling me about the image. I had become tired of the “wizard” photo I had up for years. I thought I put in place a more recent photo of myself. I’ll take a look and see if this is not what you and other people see.

        Liked by 2 people

  6. Rasool’s story and that of the people of Kashmir is heartbreaking. There appears to be no place on our planet, however remote, that is free from fear and the violence of war.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Amazingly done…with all your lovely pic captures n adept writings of an ethereal landscape n if its rustic beauty living ppl… breatges in the nostalgic n simplistic quintessential travelseque fron ur series of this .wish you publish as books too Narayan..light live ev ✍️🙏👍❤️☺️

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Hi Nara, another true excellence. I am with Joanna’s thoughts more than 100% and it was truly a movies infront of my eyes which made me to avoid everything n everyone untill I complete it with sacred tears within my heart through out the read. This picture perfect article/documentary must be Everlasting in Indian history. You definitely made the true readers travel thru Kashmir and realize the true meaning of life’s existence n living. I wish n hope everything goes well with Rasool Ji n your wishes be blessed with divine powers
    🇮🇳 🙏🙏

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Your pictures are beautiful. I find it’s always difficult to explain who I am. It often changes depending on how I’m feeling or what I’m going through. But it’s always good to be mindful and think about the person you want to be. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Well, in this case Who i am goes a bit deeper than the situation or circumstances demand. It is a call for a deeper introspection of what the soul within us represents, of what it is actually going towards, aligning with. Be it habits, or with recurring demand for contentment, what is it seeking is what here meant with ‘who am I’

      Liked by 1 person

  10. There is something magical about the way you write. Pensive and compassionate. There is purpose in everything you do, and for you each soul is sacred. Wonderful and inspiring. Safe travels, and I am now on Instagram so will follow your journey over there.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Surendra Sharma says

    This is an exceptional tribute and not just that I think it is travel wrong at its peak. You must must start thinking of writing books now seriously narayan. Wishes and congratulations to you

    Liked by 1 person

  12. You are an absolutely brilliant writer, and an even marvelous person. Your feelings and emotions have made this a masterpiece. Lots of blessings to you Narayana. May you keep doing the good work. May God give you all the strength that you need.

    Like

  13. Michael Graeme says

    A wonderful memoir. I was deeply moved by your emotional account of people, and of Kashmir. Thank you Nara. I always look forward to reading you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Michael, thank you for your affirmation, yes Kashmir has been such a place that evokes emotional and it was that which came through this essay, this post. Your words are deeply appreciated and likewise i always makes me feel better seeing your name.

      Like

  14. Meesh says

    So much emotion felt through your writing for Rasool and the swans. How I imagine the bird sanctuary home, it truly sounds like heaven to me (having had my own recovering house rooster for a winter, and taking care of many birds myself)… the lovings and losses of feathered friends do go deeper than one might expect. There is something magical in the mirror of a human and bird relationship… When something so beautiful and uncaged, with wings, stays grounded and close to the human forms… What a blessing and beautiful teacher they are for us. Warm wishes to you all, fleshy and feathered 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  15. A trip to many lands in painful and sad, as I realised when I went to the interirors of Jharkhand. The dreams die, the lack of fcailities and means and the lesser desire of the policymakers to turn it around, is even more heattwrenching. We are our own problem and solution, only we let ourselves be pulled under control by some illusionary hope sellers. Some day, I hope to see many more areas come alive again.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Yes, and it all needs to be resurrected, it will with time. It takes time and genuine care for love to win people’s heart. Slowly, steadily, carefully it will happen.

      Ambica, thank you for writing.
      Nara x

      Like

  16. I read with appreciation and awe of your travels and feel a lot of respect for Rasool Bhai and his bird park. I must say the line’ his words gave me the sight of days gone’ is sensational to say the least. Great visuals too….

    Liked by 1 person

    • haa.. Lekha, i read that you have been really wanting to travel and you are in your ways to Kolkatta and probably slowly you will find that strength when you can flow with it to reach to yourself.

      Rasool bhai even though elder to my father, but his spirit towards me was of an elder brother. If and whenever you are going to Kashmir, please find him 🙂 through me.

      Nara x

      Liked by 1 person

  17. You are doing absolutely great , Narayan. I realized it late but I know now that to travel your own path is far more demanding a task than to live by set norms. Besides, so many of us are seeing unknown parts of the world through your eyes. So thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Shree, apologise for writing this late. I hope you are well. I also try to keep up with your posts, just when you write sometimes in Malayalam it is only then i cannot.

      Liked by 1 person

      • You are the kindest as i know how tough it must have been for you to keep your thesis on with the motherhood. I am always very interested to hear from your work and your part of Kerela, and the sacred groves. I wish i could see your researches someday.

        Like

      • Ahhh….Please don’t apologize. It is kinda sweet though. We are all on our journeys and it is great that you read and respond and that is the best 🙂

        Like

    • Rupali, i just saw these words of appreciation, thank you. Been almost twenty days, i apologise, also because we get to interact so less here even though i keep seeing your images. Somehow my affinity towards marathi hasn’t still come to the fore even after living in Pune for sometime.

      Like

  18. An elevating experience, is what your travel writing is, Narayana! As you said, things are, and will change for the better — sooner than later. After all, once you hit rock bottom, there is no way but up, as nothing is static in this dynamic world.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Absolutely dear Zephyr, you keep surprising me with your presence from time to time. I heartily hope things home, children, family are all strong and sailing healthily. Your affirmation means much. Thank you.

      Narayan x

      Liked by 1 person

    • How lovely of you to visit after a long time Bernadette. Please do not feel so. We never know what life presents us with. May be not here but somewhere far better.

      Thank you so much for writing
      Nara x

      Liked by 1 person

    • And thank you for leading me to your works. They are documents of a life that needed depth and you created it for yourself. I saw some and those works were exceptionally intense in their being. And i would love to, waiting to read your writings on art which none other but you must have lived through having lived past varieties of decades that our world has seen. ”

      Thank you again
      Nara x

      Like

  19. What a beautiful story. I am so happy you were able to save the swans. When I was younger all I heard was Kashmir was paradise. It is so sad to hear of its demise–
    Paradise is only where care is, where love for the other has some place to bloom. Narayan.
    So true, so true.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You know Kashmir, is also the birth place of Pranayama, the sound of Aum as Ka -shmir only means water, a collection of water where ancient rishi Kashyapu meditated.

      I am so happy to read from you, thank you so much.
      Narayan x

      Like

  20. Dearest Genie, Yes we were able to save them and well. They were the happiest even though they limped for some days to come but they were limping in their home, Rasool’s bird park.

    This post was dedicated to him and a prior shout out to all the ones at Road to Nara to help him with maintaining his bird park and his health.

    Like

  21. I stayed on Dal Lake over thirty years ago – a great experience, although Kashmir became off-limits to visitors very soon afterwards,

    Like

  22. Narayan, I am very impressed and touched by your magic story. You have a great talent to find the words to tell a fascinating story. Your photos mean so much, they show deep humanity, understanding and participation. All of this touches my heart and soul. I’m sitting here in Germany in front of my screen and I’m overwhelmed. I think I will probably never be able to visit wonderful Kashmir … it is way too far away.
    Narajan, thank you very much.
    I will subscribe to your blog and I want to read a lot more from you.
    Narajan, I wish you all the best!
    Rosie from Germany

    Liked by 2 people

    • Rosie, i was almost at a loss of words after reading your words. It is beyond Kindness and tell me your love for words and even travel and how humble you must be in your day to day life.

      This story was most important for me Rosie because it was Rasool that needed to come out in front of the world. His works, his deep love for nature and maintaining the only bird park, all on his own demands much praise. This post is all for him and was a shout out to all the nature lovers to help him out as situation in Kashmir is all time low, after the Pandemic, no tourism and years of terrorism. His life is important for all those non-communicative beings that he houses under difficult circumstances.

      And it makes all the difference when someone like you finds it worthy of love and words. You know Rosie, it is not far at all, just a flight and three days away maximum. Please come. I will be happy to assist.

      A heart filled welcome to you here
      Narayan x

      Liked by 1 person

  23. Rosie, i was almost at a loss of words after reading your words. It is beyond Kindness and tell me your love for words and even travel and how humble you must be in your day to day life.

    This story was most important for me Rosie because it was Rasool that needed to come out in front of the world. His works, his deep love for nature and maintaining the only bird park, all on his own demands much praise. This post is all for him and was a shout out to all the nature lovers to help him out as situation in Kashmir is all time low, after the Pandemic, no tourism and years of terrorism. His life is important for all those non-communicative beings that he houses under difficult circumstances.

    And it makes all the difference when someone like you finds it worthy of love and words. You know Rosie, it is not far at all, just a flight and three days away maximum. Please come. I will be happy to assist.

    A heart filled welcome to you here
    Narayan x

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Your pictures, as well as your words, are so powerful. It shows the passion you have for the noble work of articulating the plight of the land. I salute you, my friend. Keep it up. Your blog is truly enriching.

    Liked by 1 person

  25. Your words made my heart heavy, Narayan. You have a beautiful heart, and your friend is fortunate to have you in his life. Thank you for pouring your love of Kashmir onto the page. 🌞

    Like

    • Lisa, why heavy no. My intention is to carry you and make you as hopeful, as beautiful for the world that is before us.

      And you know, it was i rather who was blessed to have Rasool. But yes, this pandemic has broken his spirit. He is not well and needs help. By the end of this month i imagine or earlier may be i will post something Lisa, directed towards helping him. However little this act can support, i will see.

      Liked by 1 person

  26. Hello Sister Narayan. All of your photographs are just beautiful. They would make a nice ‘coffee table’ photo album book. I would be the first to buy one. Have you considered offering/compiling a book for your readers? By the way, thinks for your ‘likes’ on many of my blogs. You are definitely a blessing to many. Amen.

    Like

    • You are heartily welcome Grandma Fowler. Yes it would. And i plan to work on a Photographic book where some photographs that you have seen here, will be there. But before i come with the book, i need to help the person who helped me make this work Grandma. He is a bird man and hasn’t been feeling well.

      Like

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