TULIPS to TURMOIL

By: Tina Olyai

 It was a trip we had all been dreaming of for months -a girls’ getaway to Srinagar, nestled in the heart of Kashmir. Four of us each with our own bustling lives, had finally made the time for this long awaited trip . We were filled with anticipation, packing our bags with excitement, and all set for a much-needed break from the daily grind. We had planned everything meticulously right down to the perfect outfits selected by Reena for the picturesque sights of Srinagar. It was going to be our moment of fun, peace and exploration., Our journey began from Gwalior, where Reena, Deepti, Binita & me boarded our flight to Delhi filled with excitement and lots lots of snacks to munch. The mood was light and joyful as we chatted about the experiences we hoped to have, the places we would visit, and the memories we would make, but what we didn’t know was that the real adventure was just about to begin., After a short layover in Delhi, we were back in the air, heading to Srinagar. The excitement was palpable, we were finally so close to our destination. As our plane descended into the picturesque valleys of Kashmir, we felt a rush of adrenaline. The towering mountains, the lush green fields, and the sparkling rivers below Srinagar seemed like a dream., But as we neared the airport, something unexpected happened. Our plane didn’t begin its descent as anticipated. Instead, we circled the airport in a hovering holding pattern. The minutes stretched on. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the captain’s voice crackled over the speaker., “Ladies and gentlemen this is your Captain speaking, ” he said with calm professionalism, “unfortunately we are unable to land in Srinagar due to really bad weather conditions hence we will be rerouting this flight to Amritsar.”, Awave of confusion and disbelief rippled through us. Bad weather? What was happening? We were so close to our dream holiday, our hearts sank as the reality of the situation began to settle in. Little did we know, this was just the beginning of what would turn into a series of travel misadventures., We were then re routed to Amritsar where we were kept on the plane for four long hours, with no opportunity to deboard even after multiple requests from passengers . The passengers sat in restless silence, some murmuring in frustration, while others, like us, tried to make sense of it all by making friends with everyone on the flight and trying to enjoy ourselves . As the minutes ticked by, the cabin became increasingly uncomfortable, the heat was stifling, and there was no way to escape the mounting  anxiety. All we wanted was to get to our destination and begin our long-awaited trip., Finally, after hours of waiting, the pilot came back on the intercom to deliver the final blow: “Ladies and Gentleman unfortunately we are now returning back to Delhi as weather conditions in Srinagar are still very bad .”Acollective groan echoed through the cabin as the reality of the situation hit us all at once. From Gwalior to Delhi , Delhi to Srinagar, Srinagar to Amritsar and now back to Delhi? What had just happened? The hours we spent in the air, unable to land, were a blur of frustration, disbelief, and a growing sense of helplessness.When we finally landed back in Delhi, it was already late at night. The airport felt chaotic, with hundreds of passengers from our Indigo flight disoriented and struggling to find their bearings. But that wasn’t the end of our ordeal. We were directed to the baggage claim area, only to be left standing there in confusion. There was no announcement, no sign of our luggage, and no clear direction. It was as though the Indigo airlines crew had simply forgotten about us. Our bags were nowhere to be found.We waited, and waited, and waited, with each passing minute, our patience thinned. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we were told that they would not be able to  provide any information about which conveyor belt our baggage would appear on. We were left standing at the terminal, stranded without our belongings. After around an hour after a lot of waiting someone said our baggage will be coming on belt number 10 and we all breathed a sigh of relief.To say we were frustrated would be an understatement. But amidst the chaos, there was something strangely unifying about the whole experience. All the passengers were gathered unitedly at the Indigo Airlines counter fighting for refunds and rescheduling of the flight for next day . Reena stood in the queue and got our tickets rescheduled for the next day whereas Binita , Deepti and me shared our dinner with a young mother we met on the flight who was breast feeding her 6 month old baby and we also looked after her baby and gave her some rest .We then finally made our way to the Holiday Inn hotel which my son Sameer had booked for us for the night. Our adventures had just begun … we had travelled halfway across India, only to be sent back to where we started. But there was one thing we knew for sure , we were four friends, back in Delhi from , wondering and laughing about what on earth had just happened to us !! Even then our spirits weren’t broken, our adventure had certainly taken an unexpected turn & the real adventure was just beginning…..!!! “Finally, Firdaus”After the chaos and unexpected “Delhi Darshan,” the airline Gods finally showed mercy. A new flight to Srinagar was booked the next day. But yet again when we reached the airport we found ourselves and all the other co passengers stranded at the airport for hours yet again as no departure boards showed details of our flight 3109 to Srinagar . Finally after about 2 hours someone came from Indigo airlines and announced the departure of our flight. This time we boarded the aircraft with a sense of anticipation and distress not knowing whether the flight would land again or not ? But by God’s grace the skies were kind and clear & the plane descended into the Valley of Kashmir, the view was more than just scenic , it was a balm to our tired spirits. Snow-draped peaks stood like silent sentinels, welcoming all of us with open arms and cool breeze.At Srinagar airport, this time we touched the tarmac with actual cheers and claps from all the passengers . No reroutes, no hovering ,just solid ground beneath our feet and the cool scent of pine and chinar in the air.Our cab driver Parvez Bhai a soft-spoken local with twinkling eyes greeted us with a warm “Khush Aamdeed!” The ride through the city was like flipping through a storybook -chinar trees swaying in the breeze, the calm mirror of Dal Lake catching the blush of sunset, and shikaras drifting in the sun set .When we finally arrived at our villa in Srinagar, it felt like stepping into a cozy Kashmiri dream. Nestled amid blooming gardens and the crisp mountain air, the villa was more than just accommodation , it was a warm embrace after a whirlwind of airports and unexpected reroutes.The three rooms were perfectly laid out, each one echoing with laughter, while unpacking our suitcases , excited squeals over cozy beds. The villa had antique decor, doors & windows carved with intricate designs on walnut wood . . We drank freshly brewed cups of kahwa, curled up on the dewans, and talked late into the night, played games and laughed till our tummies were about to burst . “Tulips & Tranquility”The next morning, we set out early after our breakfast, our hearts light and eyes wide with anticipation. Our destination the world-famous Tulip Garden, blooming in full glory.As we walked into the garden, it felt like we were being dropped into a fairytale. Row upon row of tulips stretched as far as the eye could see – crimson, golden, violet, and every shade in between – dancing gently in the spring  breeze. Cameras clicked, laughter echoed, and memories were painted in petals. Each of us found a favorite corner for that “perfect shot,” and strangers soon became impromptu photographers for us .From the floral fantasia, we made our way to the soul of Srinagar: Dal Lake.Stepping onto a shikara, we sat back, wrapped in shawls, as the boat glided over still waters. The lake mirrored the mountains and the skies, and the silence was only broken by the rhythmic sound of the oar. We passed floating gardens, wooden houseboats, and friendly vendors selling saffron, jewellery, fruits, kebabs , perfumes and handicrafts. We bought a few things and relushed the paneer & chicken tikka with the yummiest chutneys. We sipped delicious kahwa and shopped for nick nacks with the seriousness of diplomats on a mission. Binita bargained like a pro, while I paid them whatever they asked for and got a nice warning from Binita that from now on whatever we buy she will do the bargaining first .Time slowed down….we weren’t just sightseeing we were truly in paradise .As the sun dipped casting golden hues across the lake, Deepti whispered, “This is everything i had hoped and dreamt of im so happy to be here with everyone ” The next morning brought with it a fresh kind of magic wrapped in layers of wool sipping more kahwa than was required. We weren’t just tourists anymore, we were explorers , seasoned by detours and delays, and bonded deeply by our shared sense of adventure.That night, wrapped in blankets we looked out at the starlit sky and smiled.“This,” we collectively said “was worth every reroute.”“Srinagar, in Full Bloom”With the tulip garden and Dal Lake still fresh in our minds and on our phone galleries , the rest of the Srinagar experience unfolded like a gentle melody.Our mornings began with steaming cups of kahwa and the comfort of our lovely villa, where laughter lingered in every corner. The chill in the air only added to the charm as we stepped out wrapped in layers, ready to absorb every bit of the city’s poetic beauty.We wandered through the markets, where wooden stores with lattice windows told stories of centuries past. At local markets, we bargained playfully for papier-mâché souvenirs, shawls and kashmiri trinkets to carry home as gifts. Later that night we dined on Kashmiri delicacies – rogan josh, dum aloo, saag, nadru & biryaani savoring not just the flavors but the stories behind them, shared by warm-hearted locals who always had time for a smile and a tale. Back at our villa each evening, we reminisced about the day’s adventures over hot cups of tea , freshly made popcorn by Deepti and snacks from home in peals of uncontrollable laughter. The trip wasn’t about checking places off a list , it was just about friendship, freedom, and finding joy in the unexpected. The Spice Trail to Pahalgam”The sun rose gently over Srinagar, casting a golden hue over the villa’s garden, and with it rose the excitement for our next adventure . Today’s destination was the breathtaking valley of Pahalgam.After a light breakfast and some enthusiastic photo sessions on the porch, we four set off for the day with Parvez bhai , stoles fluttering, sunglasses on, make up and hair open.Once in car i chanted a Baha’i prayer followed by Gayatri Mantra by Binita , Reena and Deepti for our safe journey. Parvez bhai our driver also sang ” Hum ko mun ki Shakti dena data, ” The road to Pahalgam wound through postcard-perfect scenery, sleepy villages, flowering orchards, and snow-brushed hills., But like all good stories, this one too had a flavorful detour. Somewhere along the way, we pulled over at the famed Zamindar Kesar King store – a destination well-known to travelers with an eye for Kashmiri treasures, it was no ordinary spice shop, It was a sensory celebration., Inside the store, shelves filled with huge glass jars of the finest saffron, spices, dry fruits and the famed Kashmiri rajma -plump, ruby-red beans unlike any other. It wasn’t long before our shopping turned into a small festival of its own. From carefully choosing the best saffron strands to scooping up crunchy walnuts and almonds, we were completely in our element., Laughter mixed with the rustle of shopping bags and the aroma of cinnamon and saffron. We sampled, we sniffed, we tried bargaining but failed as prices were fixed, but we still shopped a lot!, . Before we knew it, we had collectively spent upwards of ₹80-90, We had it all packed and arranged to be couriered back home to Gwalior. Saffron and spice-laden memories, neatly boxed., The shop owner Aadil bhai, treated us to endless cups of, his best kahwa -a golden brew rich with saffron and almonds. We sat there, sipping the warm elixir, basking in the joy of shared experiences and the sweetness of Kashmiri hospitality., Rejuvenated and buzzing with energy, and caffeine, we were back on the road with Parvez bhai again, winding our way toward Pahalgam, eager for the next chapter in our mountain tale., “Pahalgam: Beauty and the, Unthinkable”, The road to Pahalgam was a ribbon of green and gold, winding through apple orchards and pine forests. We four friends, were glowing from our spice-laden detour, filled with anticipation. Pahalgam often called the “Mini Switzerland of India”was a place we had longed to see., As we arrived, the valley opened up before us like a living postcard. Snow-dusted peaks, lush green meadows, and the crisp mountain air was invigorating. We laughed, posed for photos, and marveled at the serene beauty surrounding us., “When Silence Fell on, Pahalgam”, What began as a joyful afternoon in Pahalgam the “Mini Switzerland of India”turned into a day etched with sorrow and disbelief., Our joy was short-lived, around 2:30 PM, just half an hour after our arrival at the beautiful valley, there was a palpable shift in the atmosphere, tourists were hurrying, drivers were frantically searching for their passengers, and a sense of panic was palpable of the horrific attack in the Valley, where militants had opened fire and killed 28 tourists and severely injured many. I got a frantic call from our driver Parvez bhai to come back NOW, we gathered our belongings and began making our way back hurriedly. Gunmen had ambushed groups of tourists, opening fire without warning. In moments, the peaceful meadow turned into a nightmare. The tranquil haven had turned into a scene of chaos and tragedy. Tourists were hurrying in every direction, guides on their phones, drivers frantically scanning the crowds., Awave of confusion surged around them, then dread…!!, What had been a bustling meadow of families, children, and young honeymoon couples instantly turned into a scene of terror and panic.People ran in all directions, trying to shield themselves to safety . The attackers, reportedly belonging to a separatist group, vanished into the woods almost as quickly as they had appeared., The news hit national and international headlines. Videos emerged of wounded survivors being rushed to hospitals, of grieving families, of local Kashmiris deeply shaken, and heartbroken by the violence that had once again disrupted the fragile peace of their valley and once again would give them a huge bolt to their tourism as travellers would now be afraid to come to Kashmir . That grief was so visible in wach Kashmiris face ., lives lost, a place of joy smeared now with tragedy., Though physically we were unharmed, we were shaken to their core. Just minutes separated us from the site of the attack. The thought that we four could have easily been the target was chilling. We kept thanking God for all His mercies., “The Long Road Back”, As we stepped out of Pahalgam, the scene that met our eyes was beyond anything we had ever imagined., Hundreds of ambulances some speeding, others packed close in a line crowded the valley roads, sirens piercing the mountain air. The still-beautiful landscape had turned into a corridor of grief. Inside those ambulances were the injured and the dead tourists who, just like us, had come to Kashmir seeking joy., We sat still and frozen in our car, trying to absorb the reality around us. Hundreds of ambulances, Medical staff vehicles, Army vehicles, police vans thundered past, and the road that had once brought us to this dreamland now held only urgency and sorrow., The route back to Srinagar was a tense, surreal crawl. One side of the narrow mountain road had been cordoned off entirely for emergency response vehicles -ambulances, army trucks, and police convoys that moved in a steady, somber line. The other side was choked with cars, buses, and taxis, all trying to inch their way back through the chaos., What should have been a few hours’ journey became a long, silent ride that lasted till 11 PM. The mountains, bathed in moonlight, bore witness to the ache of the valley that night. We didn’t talk much on our return journey apart from speaking to our family and loved ones and reassuring them that we all four our safe. Our shared silence said enough., By the time we reached Srinagar and walked into the villa, the day’s events had woven themselves into our hearts permanently. We were safe -but not untouched. We had seen the face of beauty, and the shadow of brutality, both in the span of a single day., Part 9: “The Heart of Kashmir”, In the days that followed the harrowing experience in Pahalgam, we found comfort not just in the quiet safety of our villa, but in something far more powerful: the kindness and care of the Kashmiri people., Even as the region was reeling from tragedy, their phones kept buzzing -not with panic or fear, but with compassionate kashmiri voices checking in, again and again on us ., Parvez bhai our driver did not leave us for a second – not out of duty, but with the genuine concern of someone who had taken us under his wing., Mr. Athar the owner of Earth Explorers was constantly in touch with us and also came and met us personally and requested us to come to his home and stay with his family incase we were scared to stay at our villa . He kept talking to my son Sameer and husband Sunil and reassuring them not to worry about me and my friends as he is there to look after us ., The Zamindar shop owner Mr. Aadil from where we bought spices from also called me – not about the shipment, but to know about our safety. “You are like our family, ” he said simply, his voice thick with worry. So, much of concern coming from everyone was indeed heart touching ., Even the caretaker at our villa Shahzaad, who brought us tea and fixed the heaters with care, showed up at our door each morning with a gentle knock “Aap theek ho na, madam?” mai hu yaha aap kisi cheez ki chinta mut kariye., But perhaps the most touching moment came from an unexpected source a Kashmiri young doctor as old as my son whom i had met on the flight into Srinagar called me more than once after hearing of the attack, wanting to be sure we were all alright. It was unreal, almost cinematic, how deeply every Kashmiri was concerned about our safety ., In a world where headlines often speak only of conflict, these were the stories that didn’t make the news -the ones that lived quietly in hearts. It was then that we truly understood: Kashmir’s greatest beauty isn’t just in its snow-covered peaks or shimmering lakes, it lies in the souls of its people. In their gentleness. In their resilience. In their unwavering, unforgettable hospitality., Even though Binita, Reena, Deepti and me had come for a holiday we left with something far more lasting: a deep, abiding love for a land and its people, who had embraced us in the darkest of moments., When it was finally time to head home, our suitcases were a little heavier, but our hearts, much lighter., We hadn’t just visited Srinagar, we had lived it….!!!!, 000 maybe even more., 28 innocent tourists were killed. Families shattered