IT was a visual treat to have a look at the Kunhar River in the Naran region. I was holidaying there and wanted my fellow-travellers to witness the picturesque view as well. So, as soon as my car halted, I jumped out of its front seat and strode to the bank of the river. Looking around, I found the view simply breathtaking. I couldn’t help saying, “wow”, praising the sight at the top of my lungs.
Totally absorbed in the beauty of the valley, I saw Haji Shamaroze Khan, our host, jump into the thunderous river. For a second I marvelled at how deeply Haji sahib could swim. He hadn’t even bothered to slip into a swimming suit.
I resumed looking at the towering mountains, tall trees, gushing waters and the verdant landscape. After a while, I looked back at the place where Haji sahib had taken a plunge. Meanwhile, a tree trunk had fallen in between. And then I heard Haji sahib crying “help, help, help ...” quite clearly.
Earlier, we had set out from Mansehra for the Kaghan valley. Kaghan is a small town straddling the Naran highway. With the majestic river below snaking its way towards Kashmir through Balakot, the highway takes numerous turns and bends across the mountains and hills. It is 23 kilometres short of Naran, which is the last stop on the metalled road. Several dirt tracks branch out here, climbing to various lakes, passes and other resorts.
Naran is a tourist village, lying at the feet of huge mountains. It boasts of a number of motels, eateries, gift shops and other such outlets. A few fancy tents dotting the riverside add colour to the village’s enchantment. Some campers hire these tents, others pitch their own ones and soak themselves in the joy the environment offers.
Most of the black-top road is stoutly built and is quite wide and well-maintained. It was near Kaghan town, 103 kilometres from Mansehra, that a couple of glaciers had slid onto the road and blocked it for traffic.
Army personnel were using their heavy machinery to clear the hardened snow. Purring and sputtering, the bulldozers and shovels were clawing, gouging, shoving and ripping the rock-hard ice laboriously. We had to wait for more than an hour before the road could be made fit for plying. This was the place where some four years ago a mammoth landslide had buried a jeep with four people in it. The slide was so huge that it dammed the river for several weeks. A small lake behind the mud wall had survived till a few months ago.
Many people had come out of their vehicles to stroll on the road as cars, coasters and landcruisers piled behind the roadblock. Among those held up were a couple from Switzerland on their bicycles. With their small heaps of luggage solidly stacked on the carriers, they were walking their bikes. Peter and Monica appeared to be in their late and early thirties, respectively.
During a brief chat with the couple, I came to know that they were touring the world. They had been riding for the previous eight months. Peter was a carpenter, Monica did odd jobs to contribute to the family income.
Peter said they had been saving money for 10 years to undertake the tour. They had entered Pakistan through Wagah. They planned to ride on to China through the Khunjerab pass on the Karakorum Highway. They had detoured to Kaghan so as not to miss out on these must-see spots in the valley, such as the Saiful Mulook, Aansoo, Dodipat Sar and Lulu Sar lakes, Siri, Payey, Lalazar and Shogran.
When asked how was the weather on the way, Monica grimaced and said: “Oh, it was too hot in Lahore. Amritsar was no different. But, here it is pleasant.” They had passed through different areas of Punjab in mid-June. They were not fussy about their security in Pakistan.
The Swiss couple said they enjoyed the tour very much, seeing various places and meeting people of different races. “Sometimes we do feel bored and depressed. But such spells are few and brief. We soon regain our enthusiasm to move on and on.”
About the difference between the Swiss Alps and the Kaghan mountains, they said the valley rivalled in natural beauty to such resorts in Switzerland. “The Alps are mostly composed of hard rocks and there are hardly any landslides.”
The Kunhar was flowing swollen because of melting glaciers at its source. It must have been chilly too. Haji sahib stood aside, dripping, trembling and looking away from us. He was embarrassed and scared. We were also a bit quiet. Suddenly the cheerful atmosphere had turned gloomy. We had expected an exceptionally joyful tour. But wherever we went, the gloom haunted us.
Actually what had happened to Haji sahib was that the car we were riding in had gotten a little overheated. He wanted to cool it off. He took a can to fill it from the river. The riverbank was damp and slippery. As he bent down to fill the container, he slipped and went crashing headlong into the water.
As he scrambled desperately back to the bank, he got hold of an extended root of the big tree. Clutching the root firmly, with the water pulling him downstream, Haji sahib screamed for help. His son, Jawwad, and I rushed towards him. We joined our hands and leaned to the water. And hauled him out. Thank God.
IT was a visual treat to have a look at the Kunhar River in the Naran region. I was holidaying there and wanted my fellow-travellers to witness the picturesque view as well. So, as soon as my car halted, I jumped out of its front seat and strode to the bank of the river. Looking around, I found the view simply breathtaking. I couldn’t help saying, “wow”, praising the sight at the top of my lungs.
