Kashmir

It's taken me quite a while to think about this experience. And even then, I'm opting to post it in a more quiet location. I don't know why. Maybe because Kashmir seems to want both secrecy and open-ness at the same time -- never mind that those are opposing concepts. But then only Kashmir can be that audacious.

Kashmir is beautiful. But you've probably heard that before. Imagine being constantly dwarfed by mountains all around. That reminder -- always -- about how small and insignificant you really are. But imagine further about the first people who dared to venture beyond these mountains. What kind of minds must they have had to have thought that they could conquer such mountains?

It's a bit different with islands, I suppose. You see vast oceans, and you go forth hopeful that there is something perhaps just beyond. The "adventure" is inherently also muddled with a bit of ignorance and chance.

Mountains are different. There are those where, like Jirisan in South Korea, you reach one peak only to see many more in the distance. Then there are the mountains of Kashmir. The Kashmir mountains don't pretend to be gentle. It doesn't dangle the promise of comfort or ease before you. In Kashmir, you see layer upon layer upon layer of mountains that stretches into the distance. It is brutal, but at least it is honest and upfront about it.

I imagine the mental audacity that the early Kashmiri settlers (?) must have possessed, and perhaps shreds of it continue to be retained -- especially amongst the salespeople today. It's actually very frightening coming up against them, but I've learnt a few tricks to hold my own... =)

But yes. The story.

It's not really a story but an encounter. In Kashmir, I came across a young American writer who has lived there for many months now. I think he's actually younger than me.

He was telling me about how lovely the lake was (Dal Lake is AMAZING!!), and I definitely agreed!! Except, for the sake of conversation, I pointed out a few things as well.

There were several patches of duck-weed blooms in the lake. I would later discover that duckweed is actually a very useful source of food, and also as a platform for birds to get close to the fish. Very charming, interesting, perhaps different (?) ecological system. I was actually somewhat expecting algal blooms (because THAT I can explain better) but something else was clearly happening here.

There was also a lot of rubbish. That can't be good. And people were digging up massive amounts of macrophytes to use as fertilisers. Alternative stable-state theories and all suggested impending doom for the lake... but again, it seems like the rules here are a bit different. Hmm.

So I pointed that out to him. "Well, don't look too close," he said something to that effect. And I imagined it was somewhat a bit poetic...

Don't look too close. 
Why insist on seeing the ugly side of things?
Why choose frustration and unhappiness?
Don't look too close, and all can always be beautiful.

There was something wrong and yet strangely right about that response. It was supposed to be about Dal Lake. Yet, the response easily echoes my India experience, and can easily be one of the big key choices of life.

We try to see everything as objectively as possible.
And yet we ultimately see through human eyes.
That in itself will always be tainted.

The truth then is that we always choose what we want to see.
We bias the lenses by training ourselves in specific disciplines.
And yet, we cannot remove the lenses entirely because it is only through them that we can see.

Perhaps then we should quest to acquire multiple lenses.
Keep talking to people and see the different interpretations.

But always always keep a balance to things.
And retain that single, sure conviction within yourself.

p.s. That last bit was from the Dalai Lama. Heh.