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A road less travelled
SABIR HUSSAIN
Riding solo on the ancient Mughal road to Ladakh. Photo: Sabir Hussain
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Its one of those must travel roads. The legendary Mughal Road in Kashmir had been at the back of my mind ever
since it was opened to traffic a few years ago. But it wasnt until the summer of 2013 that I decided to ride solo
through the Mughal Road to Turtuk in Ladakh.
After two and a half days of riding from Delhi through a blistering heat wave, I reached Rajouri, the nearest place
from where the Mughal Road can be accessed. The next morning, I set off for Srinagar. After more than two hours of
riding through picturesque countryside, climbing uphill to cross a small town called Thanamandi and then downhill
through a dense forest, I reached Bafliaz where a signboard announced the beginning of the Mughal Road. Srinagar
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I ran into more shepherds along the way. Where are you going? I asked one of them. To graze the flock near Pir ki
Gali. And then we will go to Shopian in Kashmir valley to sell our milk products. Like the others of his kind, this
shepherd and his family were travelling from a village in Rajouri district. The man was plying a trade that has run for
generations along the Mughal Road. He told me that conditions were now much better for his annual migrations to
Kashmir valley than they had been when his grandfather and great grandfather ran the business. In those days, there
were no bridges across the Suran or other streams and many animals used to be swept away while crossing.
The landscape began to change. The pine forests gave way to meadows. The wind turned chilly. A few families were
having picnic lunches near various streams. After a few uphill turns, Pir Ki Gali appeared as a stunning picture
postcard. Snowy mountains on one side of the road and green pastures on the other side as far the eye could see. I
thought of Emperor Jahangirs famous quote: If there is paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this. He is
believed to have said this where Shalimar Bagh now stands in Srinagar. But who knows, he might have said it in Pir
Ki Gali.
A shrine dedicated to a local saint Baba Sheikh Karim who is buried there and after whom the place is named, is the
only construction at the place. At 11,300 ft Pir Ki Gali is the highest point on the Mughal Road. In the local language,
gali means a pass. A thick blanket of snow on the mountains made it like a fabulous ski slope.
Pir Ki Gali has an inexplicable charm that makes you wish you could stay longer. Reluctantly, I resumed my journey.
The road was mostly downhill from Pir Ki Gali. Snowy mountains, streams and high-altitude pastures continued to
thrill me. And then I ran into a major landslide. An earthmover was clearing the road. There was a queue of vehicles
on either side of the landslide.
I walked to the edge of the road and looked down. In the valley below, were the ruins of the Aliabad sarai or inn built
for Mughal convoys to rest. A mountain rose from the rear of the sarai and a snowy slope formed a surreal backdrop
for the ruins. Sheep and goats were feasting on the rich pasture around the sarai. Another motorist told me that a few
shepherds now make the sarai their base to graze their flocks. They use an old trek to reach the sarai.
Once upon a time the Aliabad sarai must have been a major stop for the Mughal convoys. I tried to imagine what it
would have been like in the days of yore when the convoys rolled through. Other than the living quarters for
merchants and soldiers, there would have been a stable for horses and an enclosure for elephants. The aroma of
Mughal cuisine would have wafted for miles through the mountains and at night, armed sentries would have kept
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watch. The dome of the sarai is missing and there are other signs of vandalism. Depressingly, there seems to be no
governmental effort to repair the massive structure.
The road continued to be a dream to ride on when I resumed my journey. As the altitude decreased, pine trees began
to reappear. At another picturesque place called Dubjan, the army stopped the traffic for an hour because a live fire
exercise was on. It seemed ironical that such an exercise should be on in so beautiful a place.
Shopian was less than 30 km away so I rode leisurely when the soldiers let the traffic roll. The scenery remained as
breathtaking as ever with beautiful wooden houses dotting the landscape near. On the face of it, it was difficult to
imagine that Shopian was once a hotbed of militancy.
The Mughal Road ended just ahead of Shopian. It had taken me eight hours to travel 139 kms from Rajouri. But it was
worth every second.
Keywords: Mughal Road, Shopian, Pir Ki Gali
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