On our way back home, when we are about to leave for our flight; we found out that there was a curfew outside. All of us were scared, especially our parents who realized the seriousness of the issue. We anyway got into our cab who told us that the curfew has just begun and we can make it to the airport.
The roads were empty- not a single local soul was outside except our brave soldiers whom I am proud of. As it turns out, there was an argument with the locals maybe which resulted in a few casualties of our army men and the locals. I can not remember it very clearly but the silence on the road told me that this place had something very different about itself. How the rules of the entire nation does not apply on this part showed complete melancholy in that particular moment.
A soldier stopped us on our way back and inquired about us. First he asked the names of our parents then where we were from. We told Delhi and he kept asking every tiny detail- state, city, district, sector. It made us feel like he is testing us, like he doubts who we were. Finally he smiled and said "I live there too." And that just calmed our nerves! We turned out to be neighbors and we made it to the airport in time and back to Delhi. I heard people who had just landed had to send days in the airport and their whole trip got ruined.
Let me take you four days back now to the day when we traveled 836.9km by air to the airport which is 12km away from the city of Srinagar- the summer capital of Jammu & Kashmir.
It was the summer of 2013. The Government of India was trying very hard to promote tourism in Kashmir but as we know the terrorism and the threat to life refrains people from experiencing the little Switzerland.
The Spice jet airways was our travel pal here. About an hour and half journey was covered on air. Everything seems tiny from above. There were clouds all over those little towns.