by Syed Shadab Ali Gillini
With the national highways closure diverting traffic towards the Mughal Road, an intricate tapestry of congestion unfurled before us. The once harmonious symphony of vehicles gave way to dissonant cacophony, as fellow wayfarers, shackled by the same desperate circumstances, jostled for passage. The distance stretched before us like a mirage, shifting and elongating as the weight of anticipation bore down upon our weary spirits.
Last week, as I eagerly prepared to embark on a journey to participate in my beloved sister’s wedding in Jammu, fate cunningly intervened. A call from a dear friend shattered my composure, his voice laden with an unwelcome revelation, “The highway has been closed,” he solemnly declared.
In an instant, a tempest of emotions engulfed me, threatening to unravel my carefully woven plans. My family had already embarked on their pilgrimage, leaving me as the solitary figure left behind, tethered to the realm of responsibilities. As I stood suspended in that disorienting moment, a whirlwind of trepidation gripped my every thought, each one mirroring the desperate query, “How shall I reach my sister’s side in time? Shall I be condemned to miss this sacred union?” Alas, there were no answers, only an unnerving silence.
The following day, my cousins and I dared to chart an alternate course – a treacherous path veiled in uncertainty, known as the Mughal Road. With the National Highway rendered impassable by landslides, a consequence of nature’s wrath unleashed through relentless rainfall, our chosen route appeared longer and more perilous than the norm. Undeterred by the daunting prospect, we embarked upon this audacious odyssey, bracing ourselves for the challenges that lay ahead.
As the sun reached its zenith, casting golden rays upon our chosen path, we departed from the familiar embrace of Srinagar. Swiftly, we traversed the idyllic landscape, our chariot gliding effortlessly through the winding roads, until we arrived in Shopian, a haven of tranquillity, within a mere heartbeat and a half. Emboldened by our initial progress, our spirits soared, whispering promises of an imminent reunion.
Girded with determination, we resumed our expedition towards Jammu through the enigmatic Mughal Road. Alas, as fate would have it, our jubilation was short-lived. The passage leading from Shopian to Bafliaz, a picturesque hamlet nestled in the embrace of the Poonch district, unveiled a most unexpected obstacle – a relentless traffic jam, casting a foreboding shadow upon our path. One kilometre, a seemingly inconsequential distance, transformed into an insurmountable challenge, consuming our precious hours. Two interminable hours passed as we inched forward, our fervent prayers mingling with the whispers of exasperation that permeated the stagnant air.
Finally liberated from the clutches of the traffic snarl, we resumed our journey, pressing onward with unwavering determination. As the wheels of our chariot turned, we ventured deeper into the uncharted territories that connected us to Rajouri, where an unwelcome revelation awaited us – a road in woeful disarray, akin to the ruins of an ancient civilisation. The sight before us was nothing short of a grave discouragement, threatening to erode our resolve. Yet, trapped between the unforgiving barriers of a closed highway, the exorbitant cost of airfare, and the vast expanse of over 140 kilometres that separated us from our destination, we had little choice but to forge ahead, defying the road’s impassive judgment. Together with countless other intrepid souls, we embraced the arduous path that lay before us.
As we delved deeper into this enigmatic passage, the trials multiplied each bend and turn demanding our unwavering resilience. The road to Jammu, once a leisurely jaunt, had morphed into an arduous pilgrimage through treacherous terrains. Our journey mirrored an epic saga, wherein we, mere mortals, became participants in a grand narrative spun by the whims of fate. The mountains beckoned, their towering majesty casting an awe-inspiring spell upon our weary souls, as we struggled onward, united by a shared purpose.
In time, our arduous pilgrimage reached Rajouri, a realm teeming with life, bustling with the fervour of travellers embarking on their own quests. However, even this hallowed path, once known for its seamless charm, now bore witness to the ravages of progress. Its tranquil façade belied the chaos that lay beneath, for it had become a canvas upon which the artist’s brush of construction danced, striving to birth a four-lane masterpiece. Alas, its infancy brought naught but havoc, as the road crumbled beneath our feet, forcing us to tread with caution. What should have been a four-hour sojourn transformed into an unforgiving seven-hour test of our mettle.
With the national highways closure diverting traffic towards the Mughal Road, an intricate tapestry of congestion unfurled before us. The once harmonious symphony of vehicles gave way to dissonant cacophony, as fellow wayfarers, shackled by the same desperate circumstances, jostled for passage. The distance stretched before us like a mirage, shifting and elongating as the weight of anticipation bore down upon our weary spirits.
Yet, amidst the chaos and desolation that consumed our expedition, fragments of beauty whispered their presence into our souls. Majestic vistas unfurled with each twist and turn, beckoning us to immerse ourselves in their allure. Verdant landscapes embraced us, their serenity providing solace amidst the tempestuous journey. But alas, the tendrils of frustration, interwoven within the fabric of our consciousness, choked any hope of savouring these fleeting moments of respite.
As the twilight hours descended upon our weary caravan, we approached our final destination—a realm resplendent with the melodies of love and celebration, where bonds would be consecrated and memories etched into the annals of time. Exhaustion clung to our beings, our bodies aching from the trials endured. Yet, with each footstep drawing us closer to our long-awaited reunion, our hearts surged with renewed vigour, eclipsing the weariness that threatened to envelop us.
In the end, our pilgrimage, though fraught with challenges and trepidation, transcended mere physicality. It became a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, an embodiment of our unwavering determination to overcome any obstacle in our quest for love and connection. As the festivities commenced, laughter mingled with tears, a symphony of emotions weaving a tapestry of memories that shall forever be etched upon the sacred canvas of our souls. And within the chambers of my heart, the echoes of that arduous yet transformative journey resound, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, the human spirit remains indomitable.
