Winter in Kashmir: A Snow-Kissed Dream Come True
I’ll never forget the moment I landed in Srinagar—my breath forming little clouds in the icy air as I stepped onto the tarmac. The cold was sharper than I expected, biting at my cheeks, but the sight of the Himalayas draped in snow made me forget everything else. This was my first winter in Kashmir, and I was ready for the adventure.
First Night in a Houseboat: The Bukhari Diaries
My houseboat on Dal Lake, Shanti, was a charming wooden haven. As I stepped inside, the host, Mr. Ahmed, greeted me with a steaming cup of kahwa. “Winter here is not for the weak,” he chuckled, pointing at the bukhari (traditional Kashmiri stove) in the corner. “This will be your best friend.”
That night, I learned the art of balancing warmth and smoke—feeding the bukhari just enough wood to keep the room cozy but not so much that it turned into a furnace. Wrapped in two blankets, I fell asleep to the gentle sound of water lapping against the boat, only to wake up to a surreal sight—Dal Lake partially frozen, with mist rising like ghosts over the glassy surface.
Gulmarg: Snow, Skiing, and Spectacular Falls
The drive to Gulmarg was like entering a snow globe. The roads were slick, and our driver, Farooq, expertly navigated the curves while telling me about the Chillai Kalan—Kashmir’s harshest winter period. “This snow won’t melt until March,” he said proudly.
At Gulmarg, I decided to try skiing. Confident after a five-minute tutorial, I strapped on my skis and immediately face-planted into the soft powder. A group of local kids nearby burst into laughter. “Didi, aise nahi, aise!” (Sister, not like that, like this!) one of them called, demonstrating with effortless grace. After multiple tumbles (and more laughter from my little coaches), I finally managed a wobbly slide down the beginner’s slope. The thrill was worth every bruise.
Pahalgam: A Silent Winter Fairytale
Pahalgam was deserted, unlike the bustling summer scene I’d heard about. My guesthouse owner, Abdul, warned me, “Betaab Valley is beautiful, but the snow is deep. Take a horse.”
I opted to walk, regretting it within minutes as my boots sank knee-deep into fresh powder. A local horseman, Yusuf, took pity on me. “Come, sit,” he said, helping me onto his sturdy pony. As we trotted through the silent valley, the only sounds were the horse’s hooves crunching snow and distant avalanches rumbling in the mountains. Yusuf pointed at a frozen waterfall—“In summer, this is roaring. Now, it’s sleeping.”
The Magic of Winter Hospitality
One evening, I wandered into a tiny bakery in Srinagar’s old city. The baker, an elderly man with a kind face, saw me shivering and handed me a fresh sheermal (saffron bread). “Eat, it will warm you,” he insisted. As I bit into the sweet, fragrant bread, he told me stories of winters in his childhood—how entire neighborhoods would gather around communal fires, sharing stories and kehwa.
Later, at a small café, I tried harissa for the first time—a rich, slow-cooked meat dish that’s a winter staple. The owner, seeing my hesitation, laughed. “First time? You’ll dream about this later.” He was right.
Unexpected Winter Surprises
Not everything went as planned. One morning, I woke up to find my water bottle frozen solid. Another day, a sudden snowfall stranded me in Gulmarg for an extra night—no complaints, though, as I spent it playing cards with fellow travelers by the fireplace, sharing stories of our worst winter mishaps.
Leaving Kashmir: A Promise to Return
On my last day, I sat by Dal Lake at dawn, watching the first light touch the snow-covered peaks. A lone shikara glided silently over the icy water, its paddler breaking thin sheets of frost. I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs, and promised myself I’d return—maybe in spring to see the tulips, or summer for the meadows, but definitely again in winter, for the quiet magic only snow can bring.
Kashmir in winter isn’t just a destination; it’s an emotion. And as my flight took off, the mountains slowly disappearing beneath the clouds, I knew I’d left a piece of my heart buried in that snow
