T
O U R ‘91
By Jawwad A. Farid
Once
upon a time, in an ordinary lane off Shara-e-Faisal, someone
came up with a brilliant idea (on conditions of anonymity,
of course), within days posters appeared out of nowhere
on the main notice board of an innocent looking bungalow,
in the ordinary lane off Shahra-e-Faisal. A few found
their way inside the student study too, and the news spread,
from ear to ear, on the local grapevine. For weeks the
three words were whispered, commented on, asked …
ARE YOU GOING. Plans were made, remade, cancelled. Names
noted, withdrawn and yet re-noted again. But the summer
went on unconcerned and so did quite a few students in
an innocent looking bungalow, off Shahra-e-Faisal.
Day
1, Day2
A
month later, a very usual scene was seen on the local
Cant Station. Around 30 or so ordinary, run of the mill
teenagers, dressed in faded jeans and loose shirts, cotton
t-shirts and suits and various other contemporary fashion
outfits were assembled in a not so remote corner besides
a Pindi bound train. There were a couple of concerned
parents, sisters, brothers and a few Qulis adding to the
variety of the scene. The time was 8:30 in the morning
of 27th July 1991. A very fateful day in the normally
unfateful lives of 40 or so Karachities.
Like
most stories, this one too started off on a slow note.
As slow as a certain express that runs on the route of
Karachi and Pindi. It was a lovely day. Overcast skies,
and a slight breeze, typical Karachi weather. Some one
(who later turned out to be Hassan) had the decency of
bringing along a portable stereo. A yellow portable stereo,
which in later days became an extremely prized possession.
For
the first few hours, it was an extremely uneventful beginning.
The initial excitement faded out, people got comfortable
and settled down. The so-called express moved, stopped,
moved, moved in a non-stop sequence. Incidentally, Someone
up there, decided that a certain batch of 40 people was
getting too comfortable and turned on the heat, full blast.
It just started getting hot and hot and hotter and still
hotter. An endless nightmare, which began with normal
sweat, and ended when a fully pressed white Kurta Shalwar
turned a brownish shade of yellow. (I know who wore that
Kurta Shalwar, and so do 39 other sufferers, the rest
of you GUESS)
By
nightfall things had livened up. A very enthusiastic youngster,
who had began melting was down to a runner’s vest
and shorts, but couldn’t help the melting bit. Followed
by two other who chose to turn in their jeans for something
more comfortable. Cards were out, a couple of Reader’s
digest, a Robin Cook, and the yellow stereo was going
strong. Those who could chat were chatting; a few tried
sleeping and succeeded (and later woke up to find their
shoelaces tied to the berths). Yet others were rudely
awakened by a pail of cold water, but for the rest of
us it was heat, sweat and boredom (Famous words of Sahar
Siddiqui, printed without permission.) Punjab was beautiful.
It symbolized the fact that only 12 hours of our journey
remained. Lahore came and went. The first casualty occurred
when Chups dropped off. And Shazi man joined us. Quite
a few of us thought, hoped begged, prayed that it would
be snowing in Pindi. (It was the heat) But it wasn’t.
When
Pindi finally came, most of the lot looked miserable,
felt miserable and acted miserable. Of course there were
some who left others far behind. One particular, unshaven,
slightly dazed, youth was named “The summary of
Awami” (Guess again dear readers). But the dreaded
train ride was over and for the time being it was all
that mattered.
Hotel
Citizen, if first impressions are anything to go by looked
glorious. There were rooms, with attached baths, and beds
(for those who couldn’t get their hands on a sleeper
the night before). And the first showers were one of the
most widely acclaimed blessings of the Almighty. The ex-graduates
had planned something at Simly lake and we left, all tucked
comfortably in bus, around 5:30 in the evening. Had a
good time and good food. Later in the night most of us
discovered how hot it can get in a hotel room in Pindi.
Day
3
9
‘0’ clock next morning and we were off to
Besham. The tire went flat at Khanpur. Somewhere around
Taxila. But it was the first time around for most of us
and it was beautiful. A hand pump pumping crystal clear
cold water, two fruit stands and a local cassette shop
were patronized by 15 or so strangely dressed teenagers.
The flat was fixed and we later stopped at Abbotabad for
lunch.
Abbotabad, one word, total knockout. It looked like an
ordinary northern city. Green, lots of Pathans, lots of
shops and beautiful. There was an old deserted church
where we’d stopped and some of us went exploring.
(The now famous snap. ‘An Idiot by a tree’,
An Idiot by a tree with a Church in the background’
and ‘An Idiot by a tree with a church in the background
and flowers in his hand’ was taken somewhere around
then). Also climbed an overhead bridge with a breathtaking
view. Home of Puffers on the right, Home of Baluchs on
the left and the CMH straight ahead.
Had
to move on because Besham was waiting for us. We passed
stepped fields and mountains and dry streams. And valleys
and ridges and rivers(occasionally).Wherever you looked,
it was green and gorgeous and gorgeous and green. Simply
too good for words. Yousuf proposed the shifting of the
college campus to this area. Then Besham sort of refused
to appear. A number of theories were proposed. Besham
must be on some other road. May be Besham has moved (the
village is known for earthquakes). We have passed Besham
in the darkness. The people coming from the other side
also seem to be looking for Besham. Besham at last.
It’s
hardly a lane. Totally surrounded by mountains on all
four sides. And it looked very ominous in the right. You
could hear a river flowing in the back yard, and a generator
throbbing away the night, but could see neither. Lightening
flashed in the distant skies. And around midnight the
moon rose over the mountains. It was hot in the rooms
below so we shared the floor and a couple of Charpal’s
on the roof. Then it started raining at 3:30 in the morning.
The hotel’s owner was a very decent man. Grumbled
a lot for one. Over charged us for everything, for another.
And I didn’t like him that much for a third. So
we all shifted downstairs.
Day
4
4
‘0’ clock in the morning. Most of us were
wide-awake. There was nothing to do and it was still raining
heavily. It was slightly drank and the mountains were
just a shade lighter than a dark outline against the 4
‘0’ clock sky. A couple of Murghas officially
flaged off the race to find a place to brush your teeth.
The main basin on ground floor was crawling with little
green things and the rest of the bathrooms were occupied.
(Yes at such an unearthly hour, blame it on the food the
night before). So we started singing the official tour
song. Pia, Pia, Hamid Pia. Pia, Pia, kuch na kia. Breakfast
was followed by a trip to River Indus (It flowed in our
backyard, remember. Well the hotel’s backyard well
almost the hotel’s back yard). Discovered a lassi
wala, whose business boomed for a while after the discovery.
We left Besham around eight.
Land
slides (It had rained the night before) and waterfalls
Yousuf, Maqsood and Sheikh Sahib had found the chess board
and were driving each other up the wall. Asad after a
while had turned sober (Soberi…) and was trying
out a tune on the mouth organ. The yellow stereo was blaring
‘Wild Horses could not drag me away from you…
‘. As for the rest of us, there was a sight around
every corner. There were these sheer drops. Roads that
could not be called roads. Even caught sight of a snow
covered peak for the first time.
We
were traveling on the silk route (there was of course
nothing silky about it). It has been there for I don’t
know how many years. Before even roads existed. And it
took ages to reach Hunza (It still takes ages to reach
Hunza).
Passed a beautiful bridge overlooking a stream before
the Heat struck again. We stopped at a TDCP hotel. Food
was for Rs.80 per head. Which was beside the point. There
was no cook available. Quite a few of us had reached the
core meltdown temperatures’ when we discovered a
local refrigeration technique. Wet a towel, put it over
your head and go to sloop. It worked for a while. We finally
stopped at Chilas for food. The Canned Qourma was uncanned
and served. (Thank you all Naqvi, Shuja, and Saleem Qazi).
It was some change. There were barren mountains all around
us. Just rust colored plain barren mountains as far as
you could see and it was hot.
Gilgit11
‘0’clock in the night. The Chain was formed
to offload the baggage. We took showers, changed and came
down for food.
Days
5
Early
in the morning. The first exploration team went out to
discover Gilgit. It’s a nice town. Has one main
extended street with shops on both sides. Nice people
too. The girls and Hilal Sahib’s family wanted to
go shopping so the boys escorted them. And we looked around
and around and the green grass grew all round and the
green grass grew all round. Around lunch Fakhair came
up with the idea to go cycling. Shazi, Maqsood, Fakhir,
Salim, Hamid, Hammad, Yousuf and me. We took off and headed
towards Gilgit Airport. A road runs parallel to the runway
with nothing but a fence and trees between you and the
airport. We saw a Fokker take off. Even touched the local
jail and the Jinnah Bridge. It was all very peaceful and
quite and private with mountains sprinkled everywhere.
Salim had to go to the Cant. Its all the way up. A very
steep climb. So we huffed and we puffed and we wore ourselves
out. Walked cycled, cycled, walked. We were in a bad shape
(except Shazi) and Gilgit Cant simply refused to appear.
When it finally did, the Major Sahib we (rather Salim
was) looking for didn’t We broke up at the Engineer’s
Mess. And four of us went with Salim to deliver the package.
On
the other side of the valley, opposite the Cant, lies
Rakaposhi. One majestic peak rising all the way up, socializing
with the clouds. Very proud, very erect, very graceful.
The Killer Mountain. We started for home. The Bus was
leaving for Polo ground when a very tried trio walked
into the hotel. Saw a bit of Polo took group photos and
then left for China Yadgar. It’s a graveyard of
Chinese Engineers and worker’s who died on this
side of the border during the Construction of Shara-e-Karakorum.
Day
6, Day 7
It’s
a very interesting ex-perience to take a shower with cold
water at 2 a.m. in the morning in Gilgit. Every one else
was sleeping except Billy and Hassan. The three of us
came up with a plan to wake the whole town up, but more
importantly our 37-felow travelers. The plan of course
failed but we did succeed in waking Hamid who threatened
to do extremely interesting things to the person or persons
who works him up. That is if he found out who woke him
up in the first place which he never did.
In
the morning quite a few people were caught sleeping. If
you try to fit in 20 odd young males in a small hall and
on 15 mattresses you are bound to come up with very interesting
poses. Certain negotiable items were negotiated (what
the items were, is for me, Hassan, Wasif and a certain
acquaintance of ours, to know and for you to guess) very
peacefully and the evidence recorded on a reel. (The reel
was mysteriously exposed in equally mysterious circumstances).
After the negotiations we left for Hunza. It’s a
U shaped valley, a bit more angular, With a band of trees
and houses running through it whole length. And surrounded
on all sides by snow covered peaks including the Rakaposhi.
Hunza was breath-taking Hunza was magnificent. Perhaps
one of the most beautiful places in this world. (Can’t
say anything about the other words). We were there for
lunch, Roamed around and then left for Sost, a border
town near the Khunjrab Pass.
Sost.
Kheiry was down and out. It was cold. The bus was converted
into a multicolored display of sweaters and jackets, mufflers
and shawls. We perhaps had the best meal at sost. It was
just an ordinary combination of potatoes and peas. But
it tasted great and was very filling.
Come
next morning and we were off to Khunjrab Pass. When we
reached there every one with cameras suddenly went crazy.
Groups were formed and flash bulbs flashed. There was
a nearby glacier. And quite a few of us wandered off in
that direction. Had the first official snowball fight
of the season, which was fun. Then the air got to most
of use and we turned back. A brief stopover at Sost for
food and other allied human shortcomings. After that it
was back to Hunza. There was no food, no roties either.
So the girls took over the kitchen and the responsibilit6y
of feeding their hungry fellow travelers. It was quite
an occasion actually. But no one was in the mood of celebration.
We’d had a hectic nonstop schedule for the past
6 days and all of us were worn out.
Day
8
Reached
Gilgit at noon. The people at Al-Falah Hotel were very
cooperative. We were heading for Chilas and none of us
was looking forward to this particular part of the journey.
It had been extremely hot on the way up and there was
no reason on earth way it should be any different now.
And as we later found out it wasn’t. Except for
the heat and a series of flat tires it was a totally uneventful
journey. Kheiri was still recovering.
We
had good food. Tried sleeping. The heat didn’t help.
Day
9
Destination
Swat. Isa- Khailvi with the blessings of Fakhir began
his reign. He was on air most of the time (the yellow
portable and the bus stereo). Most of us slept. Shortstop
in Besham for food and after that it was full steam ahead
to Swat. It was a repeat telecast of the journey from
Pindi onwards but none of us got bored. It was beautiful.
I know it sounds monotonous but it was beautiful It had
started raining in Besham and after two hours it was still
raining. The drive down into Swat Valley was full of curves
and sharp turns and every now and then one of us would
go OHHH! And AHHH! And DAIKHO DAIKHO DAIKHO! And point
out whatever caused it to the rest of us. We encountered
the stepped fields again. Actually they were there on
the way up and down from Hunza too and I guess are a regular
feature in that area. Shaikh Sahib was miserable because
he had not seen a computer during the last ten days. Mein
Nahien Kehta, Log Khetain hain. Hotel Zahoor, Bahrain.
Somehow the rains had managed to avoid the tarpaulin and
everything was wet. One wet suitcase was off loaded after
another. And all our rooms looked like the local Dhobi
Ghat. It was a miserable sight. Most of us were wearing
the only dry piece of clothing and Bahrain was slightly
cold. We locked our rooms and went out to eat.
The
most memorable feature of Bahrain was Iqbal Bhai, his
hotel and his hospitality. Qeema, Gosht, Bhendi (Hi Hassan…).
Good food too.
Day
10
If
you are looking for friendly shopkeepers Bahrain is the
place for you. A shopping Mania started around 10’0’
clock and by noon every one was out on the main street.
There was a Unanl Hakeem who was handing out free advice
to everyone (interesting free advice). Some one of us
had gone out for a short trek. Even climbed a mountain
(Well a small mountain ….. actually a small hill…
so what if we didn’t climb it all the way up either).
It’s a lovely town with River Swat flowing right
through its middle. And this time it was flowing in our
hotel’s backyard.
Day
11
Kalaam.
It’s a picnic spot. And quite a few people were
there. River Swat and it’s left bank. You can sit
there for hours (there are stones all around) with the
river flowing on your right and knee-deep water surrounding
you. So we sat there for hours. Throwing water on each
other. Also wished Rahila Happy Birthday. I won’t
say anything about the stretch of road that runs between
Bahrain and Kalaam because I am out of words. Even if
I wasn’t it left quite a few of us speech less.
Four of us were traveling on the roof of the bus. We sang,
composed new numbers. Screamed ‘Jor tagra razia
Khosh bash’ at passing buses. And had a good time.
More shopping when we got back to Bahrain.
Day
12, Day 13
We
thought Mangora would be just as beautiful as Bahrain
and Kalaam. It turned out to be an ordinary city. So we
decided to head straight for Pindi. Malakand, Dargai,
Attock. Also found out that if you discuss food, in front
of people who haven’t seen civilization (rather
the food that comes with it) for quite some time, they
turn very violent. Kheiri especially.
Pindi
finally. It was hot again. The boys shifted to the roof
and discovered that it’s an unwritten law of nature,
what goes up must come down. Mostly because of rains.
We visited the Foundation Office the next day. Met with
Mr. Tanvir Rana, The secretary. And then it was Muree
all the way.
Muree.
Colonial bungalows and Kashmir Point. Had a rendezvous
with clouds. Then cut across the Mall and walked all the
way unto Pindi Point for the chair lift ride. It was closed.
Came back to the Hotel where we were supposed to stay
the night. Decided in favour of Islamabad.
Day
14
The
Foundation Office in Islamabad. We had a great breakfast.
Had a good night sleep on carpeted floors and air-conditioned
rooms. The group decided to breakup. One headed for the
Conference and the other planned to wait for us in Islamabad.
We stopped at Patriata, the hill station on our way to
Bara Gali, Peshawar University’s Summer Campus.
Bara
Gali (Day 16, 17, 18)
Living
in Army barrack, with nothing to do. There are three sessions
every day followed by tea, lunch and dinner. A hill stands
in front of us completely covered with pine trees. Its
cold again but the food is nice (isn’t it always…)
and there is nothing to complain about. We attend the
Conference during the day, play around with the P/s2’s
in the evening and with cards during the night. It’s
a great place to relax. Totally Isolated. Went for a trek
to Qala Bagh, Auybia the next day and had a campfire the
same night. The Professors and the students from Peshawar
are very friendly. At night we have a Qahwa session on
the stairs of the dinning room. You can see Abbotabad
in the valley below
Night
of 13th we were back at the Foundation’s Office
in Islamabad.
Day
19
Explored
Islamabad. Went to see the fireworks in the night. Then
walked all the way back to the Bus. Maqsood’s Birthday
and all of us were asking for a treat. There was a great
tasting cake waiting at the Head Quarters.
Day
20, 21
Pindi
Station.Tezgam. The ride back home wasn’t much fun.
Uneventful too. Cards and books. Last requests on the
yellow portable. ‘Kali teri choti hai, paranda tera
lal ni’ (Hi again Hassan), Wild Horses … ,
Junoon, Vital Sings and Esa Khailvi. Reached Karachi around
noon.
Just
a little note for those of you who chose to stay behind.
You missed it.