The Pir Vadhai bus stop, located at the junction of Islamabad and Rawalpindi, is a frenetic place. The noise, dust and heat levels are high and the place is teeming with passengers arriving from all over Pakistan; and an equal number are energetically engaged in finding the right bus for their travels to other parts of Pakistan.
It is here that my journey for Rawalakot (Azad Kashmir) starts. On a hot day in April, I arrive at the bus stop to take a van for my destination. There is not much choice in public transport for Rawalakot and one has to ride one of those old Toyota Hi-Aces that pack five passengers in a seat meant for three.
I am not lucky this day. Due to a strike in Rawalakot, vans are not departing. I have to wait for more than an hour before the sole van that is available is filled up.
An apricot just a month away from ripening – I had come a little too early, lamented my host!
The distance is only 120 kilometres but the road is undergoing repairs – which means slow progress through potholes and clouds of dust. The trip takes four-and-a-half hours. I was told that when the road is in a good condition it takes just two hours.
One word of caution to the travelers: take your National Identity Card with you, as you have to show it at the Kahuta check-post.
A boatman waiting for customers at the Banjosa lake
My most gracious host Younas with his grand-daughter Saleha
The van makes one stop, about midway to Rawalakot, at a place called Azad Pattan where the passengers can stretch their legs and have something to eat.
I am in Rawalakot at the invitation of Younas, a kind and gentle man who had worked as a driver with various members of my family for nearly thirty years.
Over time, Younas had built a house in his hometown Banjosa, about 3 kilometres from the Rawalakot town center. Now retired, Younas had moved back permanently to his hometown. His children lived and worked in Karachi and Islamabad while their children stayed back in Banjosa.
A small wheat field at the bottom of a mountain slope
A bench for the contemplative or tired travelers
It is heartwarming to see the nice, small house that is simply but comfortably furnished. Set on the slopes of a mountain and surrounded by trees on which birds chirp all day, the house offers a peace that is unimaginable in a city like Karachi. Except for the chirping of the birds, and the sound of the occasional vehicle moving on the road below, there is complete silence. A cool breeze blows across the small verandah. There are fruits and nuts growing right in front of the verandah and potatoes planted in the patch of land in the front.
Younas explains that rainwater is collected by running a pipe from the roof to a channel and down to large plastic tanks. This water is used for bathing and washing clothes. Potable water is brought down from a spring just a hundred yards away.
All the houses, guest houses and shops in the area are painted in vivid colours
Most houses built in the mountains of Rawalakot are aesthetically pleasing
Eggs are aplenty given the chickens in the house. Milk comes from a domestic cow. For cooking, gas cylinders are brought in from one of the many depots situated close by. “In the winters, on very cold days, we burn wood to keep the house warm”, explains Younas.
The house has three large rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. The only challenging aspect of staying in the otherwise comfortable house is the bathroom. My muscles scream when I am getting up from the sit-me-down toilet! Since there is no wash basin, I have to either bend down or sit in order to wash my hands or brush my teeth. Electricity is available most of the day and one never hears the earsplitting sound of a generator.
Azad Pattan, the midway van-stop on the road to Rawalakot
Minor inconveniences pale in comparison to the idyllic setting, fresh air, greenery, birds and the view of the moon shining through the open window of my room.
Everyone living within a hundred-metre radius of the house are either immediate family or relatives of Younas. The little ones play outside their houses with no security issues. For three days it is refreshing not to see a single gun-toting guard or policeman.
Even Younas’s relatives are buried in the same locale.
The evening light prompted me to try and create something in the spirit of Ansel Adams – a master photographer known for his grasp of light and shadows
The whole area of Rawalakot and Banjosa is striking in its absence of the kind of poverty one sees in the cities of Pakistan. The children look fresh and healthy. Dressed in smart, clean uniforms, both boys and girls seem to be from a country that is far richer than Pakistan. There is no dearth of schools, both private and public. These observations are supported by the statistics that Azad Kashmir has a literacy rate of 74% compared to the overall rate of 58% for Pakistan.
It is not tourist season yet – at the end of April, while I am here. Younas tells me that there would be a steady stream of visitors during and after the Eid holidays and the colorful guest houses become busy during that season. Banjosa lake is the major tourist attraction. I wish the administration of the lake would take better care of the surroundings of the lake, though, as there is garbage left by the visitors, strewn all over the area.
This ‘living and innocent’ Pir of Banjosa is thought to have disappeared but still living
It is refreshing to visit a part of Pakistan than seems to be eons away from the madness of a city like Karachi. It presents a lifestyle so different from the business-driven environment of large cities. The sad part is that so many young men of the area have to leave their families behind and go to major cities in search of work.
One only hopes that increased tourism to these small patches of Paradise does not ruin the delicate environment, as it has in the more popular destinations like the Kaghan Valley.
