It was a freezing night in the middle of June. I and Mateen had dragged our chairs to the suspension bridge hanging between PTDC motel Naran and the forest and villages on the other side of River Kunhar. We were sitting in the middle of the bridge and serene waters of the river were flowing beneath us, making a musical sound. Around midnight, full moon rose from the mountains. A chilling cold wind was blowing from the north, bringing along the fragrance of little wild flowers blooming on the green slopes of Himalayan valleys. Amidst all the beauty and magic of the night, we sat wrapped in our blankets talking about life till after midnight.
It was an unplanned trip. We had come up to Naran to camp for the night at Lake Saif ul Malook but we hadn’t anticipated that it would be so cold at this time of the year. Somehow the excitement went out of the plan. Instead, we decided to spend the rest of our time at Shugran, a beautiful little hill station in the heart of lower Kaghan valley, surrounded by dense forests and beautiful scenery.
The next day, we drove back to Kiwai and took the steep road to Shugran. After some twenty minutes we reached Shugran and checked into the Pine Park, simply the finest hotel in the area. Its major attraction is its spacious and exquisite rose garden. I have some fond memories of it from a childhood trip. We hired a jeep and set out for Siri and Paye Meadows and the famous Makra Peak, major tourist attractions near Shugran. Mustafa, the jeep driver was a twenty four years old local man. He played the most off putting songs and we drove on the bumpy mud track up the mountain.
The track makes its way through dense forest. At places, the scene opens to a beautiful view of mountains hidden behind the forest. Although, it’s a conveniently reachable tourist destination, Shugran and the surrounding forests and meadows remain out of the reach of so called civilization and seem untouched. The ride was a complete chaos. Muddy track was very uneven and the jeep was shaking violently. After a while, the forest opened to a meadow some dozen meters down the track. There was a small water body which looked more like rain water standing in the weeds. To our disappointment, this was the famous Siri Lake. “I could drink this much water in a single go” I joked. Of course, a comparison between little seasonal lakes of Shugran with the great lakes elsewhere in Pakistan is futile. These lakes do add to the beauty of the landscape when there’s water in them.
After gaining some height, the jeep halted at a spot. It looked like the highest point of the mountain forest which indeed it was. Beautiful green meadows were spread across the highest slopes of the mountain. Tracks made their way through lush green grass and occasional bushes of wild yellow flowers. A multi dimensional panorama had been unfolded in front of our eyes. The dense forest through which we had made our way this far was spread on the mountain slope under our feet. In the middle of the forest, Shugran looked like a cluster of buildings poised on top of a hill. Further down, one could see as far down as main Naran road and the green strip of river Kunhar running through the valley. Right in front of us were sky-piercing high Himalayan mountains, their peaks and high slopes covered in snow even at this time of the year. The jeep driver Mustafa, with whom we had become friendly indicated the famous W-shaped peak of Musa ka Musalla, highest among the surrounding mountains. However, our major concern wasn’t this mountain which takes its name from a shepherd Musa, who used to hike up to the peak to pray and meditate, but the breathtakingly beautiful Makra peak right opposite to it. It became completely visible after a short walk in the meadows.
Makra peak is unique among other high mountains. There is a sort of feminine beauty to it. The mountain is completely green all the way to its top. Its high slopes are hidden under glaciers. From its view point, a vast meadow is spread under your feet, at the center of which is Paye Lake which was completely dry at this time of year. Slopes of the meadow gradually rise and make up one side of the mountain. Tracks lead through the forests on the mountain slopes up to the top.
We sat there for a couple of hours and enjoyed the scene. Mateen’s adventurism was running wild and he decided that tomorrow, he would climb the mountain all the way to the top. The schedule was flexible so we accommodated. I knew my limitations so I excused myself from the hike and told Mateen that I’ll spend my day at the hotel. Later in the night, when were sitting in the hotel garden, talking, I decided that instead of looking at the walls or spending time in the garden all day long, I’d rather accompany Mateen up to the meadows and wait for him there.
Next day, we started very early and reached the meadows when sun had just risen and there wasn’t a single soul around. Makra is a relatively easier peak but Mateen was a debut climber so I told Mustafa to not let him do anything foolish and bring him back if he’s not able to make it. My fears were completely unfounded as it turned out. I can imagine regular climbers laughing at me while reading this. Folks! I’m just being honest. I bid them good look and our ways parted. I chose a high spot over the meadows and made myself comfortable on the grass. After a while, the dots that were my companions were no longer in the range of my vision.
It was still very early in the morning and sunlight was warm. I spotted a suitable rock, made it my pillow, tied the handbag around my arm and lied down. Within minutes, I was sleeping. Two hours later, I woke up to see a horse standing dangerously close to me. The horse man was trying to convince me to take a ride of the meadow. To his disappointment, I politely declined and sat up. The sun was shining bright and I had sun burns over my hands. It was only 10 am and it was foolish to expect Mateen and Mustafa back before at least 3 pm. So the waiting started.
I had absolutely nothing to do for those few hours. We city folk are so preoccupied with everything going in our lives and so much a part of the fast track life of the cities that we don’t really know how it feels to have absolutely nothing to do for a certain span of time. From what I experienced that day at the meadows, it gives you time to think deeply and feel intensely. And there couldn’t be a more perfect setting, in solitude with nature. I put on my ear phones and played some songs (really good ones). After a while it felt like the entire nature is synched with my music. It sounded more pleasurable and intense. It was quite windy at this height. The grass blades waved when cool breeze passed through them. Bright colored butterflies made their journey from one wild flower to another. A naughty bird flew out of the forest and took a dive down the meadows, its wings making a sharp fluttering sound. In bright sun shine, I close my eyes for a moment to see my own blood, pinkish red in color, flowing through the maze of tiny blood vessels. Great shadow of the cloud rising from south like an invading army covers the meadow in dark. That day I realized, we are so accustomed to the routine and speed of life that we simply don’t know the art of waiting. It is a skill worth learning. It may come in handy one day. There was not a single moment of boredom in those seven hours I waited on the meadow.
Around noon, many tourists had arrived at the meadows. The horse man tried his luck with me once more but remained unsuccessful. By 2:30 pm, I recognized one of the dots at the base of the mountain as Mateen. They kept waving and I waved back. When he came closer, by the happy look on his face I knew he had made it. He collapsed near me. Dehydrated, sun burnt and extremely tired, but a conqueror of Makra.
Back at the hotel, Mateen slept for a hundred years. I heard him talking in his sleep a couple of times. When he woke up, we sat in the garden till dawn. Last night of every trip is always the happiest and the saddest for sentimental reasons only travelers can know. We were to travel back to reality the next morning.
Until I hit the road again…