the flowerman

My first morning in Srinagar started with an breathholding view of the full moon staring in the clear waters of the dal lake. It seemed as if it is reflecting its beauty in the mirror of the waters of dal lake. The reflection danced on the waters  as if quivering in the moderate cold of early morning of Kashmir.

I got up early morning at 5.30 and by 6 am came on the deck of houseboat . the birds were chirping melodiously along with the small ducks( called “jalmurgi”), washing themselves in the clear water and getting on with their  normal chores. The surrounding range of Himalayas ,stood majestically as the early morning sun glittered its snow covered peaks with the glory of its morning red rays.

Life starts early morning for kashmiris on the lake itself. Many shikaras and small boats emerged from the back of houseboats  and started moving across the lake. One small  boat passed by with two children smartly dressed in school uniforms and having school bags on their backs. . One was rowing the boat and the other one was having his breakfast with some special bread in one hand and a drink in another. Few boats were seen with people carrying shovels and collecting vegetation from the base of the lake in their boats the lake. First I thought these people must be appointed by the government for cleaning the lake .but later I came to know they were just taking vegetation from the base of lake for using as fertilizer in their field. At these places ,I felt people would still be praying for pleasant weather and sunny days as bad weather would mean no tourists and no food for the families.

 I was sitting ,writing my blog when a small boat with flowers on it came near me. The pleasant man sitting on it greeted with “saalam waale kum”.He was an elderly man  interested in selling his flowers. But I was interested to talk to him. He asked me whether I was a hindu or a muslim, to which I answered as hindu.I had my head covered with a black scarf ( for morning cold) which probably raised his curiosity. But I could only marvel  at the significance of the question amidst the beauty of nature and the morning.

The flower man had seeds also for selling. I said no for flowers but I was interested for the seeds. I asked him whether the flower seeds would survive in the scorching sun of north india. He assured me that he would call me up personally to know how the plants were doing. I laughed at his answer. But the flower man’ seemed like a simple kashmiri who believed in “allah” and said he would even pray for my seeds to grow into beautiful flowering plans. I liked the simplicity of the man, and bought some seeds. When I came back with the money, he presented a beautiful yellow tulip to me, for being his first customer of the day. I clicked few pictures of the’ flower man’ and we parted with beautiful smiles and loving greetings.