Different shades of green, pops of pink and red, a hint of marigold and yellow. Smooth lush green meadows stretching across the landscape. At the end of them were gangling mountains, like fangs getting ready to bite.
Azure blue rivers thrashing and sliding between mountains, roads and bridges. The colour of the water kept changing — chestnut brown, muddy and murky with waves of pearly white foam. By the time we reached our final destination, which was the Attabad Lake, the water was a vivid and rich shade of turquoise. Fleecy white clouds were shapeshifting from objects to creatures. It was a breathtaking adventure that was just starting.
I said to myself grinning from ear to ear, “There’s more than meets the eye.”
When we reached our resort in Hunza, my jaw nearly dropped to the centre of the Earth’s core and I screamed, “Aahhhhhhh, this is heaven!”
As I stood on the balcony, I stared at the view. Tiny cottages with pointy roofs in multi colours — scarlet, amber, mustard, jade, cobalt and rose pink. Without even asking for it, we were pleasantly surprised to have been given the rose pink cottage. My mother and sister had a terrific spark of happiness on their faces.
The eye-catching turquoise of the Attabad Lake was a mixture of sapphire and emerald. It was a hushed pool of calmness. I could feel my worries and tiredness fade away. The towering mountain right in front of me in all shades of hazel, mud brown, chestnut, bronze, rust, tawny, fawn, stone, pearl, ivory, milky and chalky made me feel like a miniature ant. I had a daunting feeling that the mountain was a bulky monster that would chomp my flesh and spit out the bones like bullets coming out of a gun.
Far beyond the hazardous and treacherous mountains were the snow-capped peaks with clouds guarding them, like a barrier forbidding anyone, anybody or anything to get close or touch. I saw snow for the first time in my life. Even though it was far, a rush of joy flew through my shallow cheeks, numb fingers and squashed skin. I had been dreaming about this moment ever since I had heard about snow. I wish I could just go and grab it and have a snowball fight.
The days went by mesmerised by the beauty of the landscape, the brilliance of the sun, the dampness of the grass, rocky mountains and prickly cold water. This was served up like food on a plate to us and it gave us an opportunity to dive into this paradise.
Delectable pancakes and scrumptious cakes, delightful omelettes and divine sausages, yummy halwa and tasty puri, spicy panini sandwiches and juicy burgers — the food at the resort was incredible. My stomach would get so full that I would run around to use up all the energy. I spent time with my grandparents, cousins, parents and, of course, my baby sister.
Right besides the grand Attabad Lake was a thundering stream of water, sliding and sloshing through the rocks. I got after my father to go there. It was like walking through a treasure trove, as if the rocks were rubies, emeralds, peridot, silver and gold. The sand was slick, sludgy and super sticky. I wish I had taken some back home. We made handprints on the sand and it stuck into our hand like glue.
Spending that time alone with my father, away from everyone felt like a gorgeous fresh mountain stream flowing through me.
The next morning, on our way breakfast, my grandfather gave me a packet of red and brown seeds as big as one’s eyes. I asked him what they were, and he said they were apricot seeds. We threw them as far as the eye could see, deep in the shrubs and the undergrowth. I hope the next time I go to Hunza, those seeds would have grown into trees.
One day, we went around on the winding roads that looked like a snake coiling around the mountain. My head was spinning like a whirlpool as we made our way on it. We were in search of the Altit and Baltit Fort. We decided to get out of the cars and soak in the clouds and misty mountains. Our stop at Cafe de Hunza gave me a gigantic boost of energy and happiness.
Twice my mother and I strode through the little cottages on our own. There was sheer happiness on our faces even though we would be freezing. It was a happiness which would never end, it would go on and on until one day it would fade into the darkness of my memories.
Leaving the resort seemed to swallow all the happiness in my heart. I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Luckily, I was not leaving Hunza. Our next hotel was just a few minutes’ drive away. It didn’t have the same fun activities, but there was a stream of water gushing right beside it.
We got up early in the morning to drive to Khunjerab Pass. We gobbled down our breakfast, put on warm clothes and were all ready. We zoomed down the road in our car. We kept on going higher and higher. Soon, I realised I was cold as it was freezing outside.
When we got to Khunjerab Pass, I was mesmerised. The snow, the sky, the different shades of green- lime, acid green, grass green, bottle green, olive, khaki, emerald and jade were a sight I had never seen before.
I yelled, “Look, dandelions!”
I blew one and I saw the little tufts fly away in the air. I looked down at my feet. I was standing at the border of China. A rush of emotions flew through my veins. I had touched the very tip of the Pakistan map. My eyes twinkled.
“I’m lucky to be here,” I said to myself.
Soon the day arrived when I was leaving the mountains. I was saying goodbye. Being in the beautiful mountains was a serene, peaceful and indelible experience.
Published in Dawn, Young World, November 5th, 2022
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