Chapter 3: the last village of INDIA- THANG
Endless narrow roads, the hairpin turn with a 45-degree climb on various mountains, passage through near-vertical drops, and metal clanky bridges are how you travel to the last village of India in Ladhak. On the road, near the village of Thoise, you see a transit halt of the Indian army for the Siachen glaciers. It’s a large base with Indian army’s and IAF’s might on display such as different helicopters and mighty vehicles. As you pass this base, you read a stern warning that “trespassers will be shot” and photography is strictly prohibited. With that, you immediately keep the DSLR away, or else you are extremely tempted to click at least one picture of the shiny helicopter.
A river flows alongside you all the way to Turtuk. The river is called Shyok, “the river of death”. It is called so as this river has often overflown its boundaries without any warning, overnight, swallowing villages that resided on its banks. The road only gets narrower. There comes a metal hanging bridge where only one bus can pass at a time. It sways as you pass on it. there is a slight terror when you look down from your bus’s window down at the furiously flowing Shyok river from the swaying bridge. You pass the bridge to a road that disappears in the middle of the climb. If you happen the see a vehicle from the other side, you have to reverse to a suitable spot where the other bus, your bus, and the mountain can snuggly fit each other. With mm distance between the two vehicles, they pass each other on such a treacherous mountain. The drivers often exchange pleasantries or at least just a courteous “Juley” –a form of hello filled with lots of warmth; in Ladhakiyan native tongue. There can’t be road rage here. On these roads, patience and a smile are the virtues. Any mistake on the edge of the road, and vertical drops won’t analyze who made the mistake.
And after seeing these sceneries for more than at least 5 hours, you finally arrive at Turtuk.
Gods have blessed the town of Turtuk with heavenly scenes. We stayed at a delight_guest_house where I made a friend called Hayder Ali Khan. Hayder Khan. An engineer by education but the situation has forced him to be an entrepreneur. And what a fine establishment he runs. Only focused on customer delight, as the name suggests. Here we had a heart-to-heart conversation with this young man which I will remember forever. Imagine staying at a guest house from where you can hear a river flowing, which has fields surrounded at one side, and at the other, you have skyrocketing mountains. This young man I think didn’t learn the word no. I have never seen him deny any request that we made during our stay. I was thoroughly impressed by his hospitality and generosity towards his guests. He revealed during one such conversation that “during lockdown when tourism was closed, we understood the value of 5 Rps. also. We prayed for this day where guests to come in again. we prayed for our hands to have some work”. Often we read that travel makes you grow as a person, I believe at that moment, I felt how fortunate we are to be living a comfortable life even when the worst was going around the world. I was also ashamed that we take things for granted. I don’t think I ever prayed for work as much as Hayder spoke off. a husband of a beautiful and hardworking woman who fed us homemade food, and a father of an equally if not more beautiful and playful daughter, Hayder was always grateful for things that he has. We look for comfort in things whereas, for him, it was acceptance. He lives in a Turtuk where except for nature and fields, there is nothing. Meaning no schools, no hospitals, nothing. I asked him the most insecure questions of them of all, “What if there is an emergency? Medical emergency? How do you deal with it?” to which he widened his smile and said, “With the grace of Allah, such a situation has not occurred but if so, we ask for Army’s help”. I could never beat that smile he had in the face of uncertainties. He mentioned, electricity just started to be available for 24 hours in the last 3 months, else earlier we were used to having lights only 7-10 PM. Imagine that. Some part of India still lives in 7-10 PM electricity. And here we cry foul even if the electricity goes for 10 minutes during a cricket match. It was very disappointing to leave Hayder’s comforting delight guest house for our onward journey towards the POK border.
Turtuk stands just 2 km away from the border. As we traveled through this remaining 2 km, I saw the abundance of beauty in Turtuk. The white stream after stream flowing through the village right beside houses, the rivers flowing from the melted ice, the greenery, and most of all extremely courteous people who are willing to know more about a man in a wheelchair roaming in their village without a care in the world.
If you put a gun to my forehead and asked me to choose a moment from the trip, without a doubt it would be this. Visiting the POK border at the last village of India- Thang. Again, the beauty of the people made this place extremely special for me. the bus could only go to a point, post that point you could only visit the border on foot which was a challenge for me but I couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see it. so I began pushing my chair along with my helper friend (Stanzin) but we both knew this wasn’t going to work out looking at the terrain. So I decided to crawl on the dust-clad road. Come what may, I won’t stop till I see the border. And a miracle happened. A group of men came to my rescue. They just lifted me on their back as if I was a bag of wheat and carried me about a KM long without breaking a sweat. I was amazed at their determination to help me realize my dream. What a sight it was. The Indian flag is hoisted on the border. We were lucky to have seen it as this village was reopened just two days ago for tourism. The sheer rawness of the place wakes you to the reality of a line dividing nations. On the other side, there was a small village that looked almost similar to Thang but it had a green flag wavering. An empty river bed divided the two villages. We heard that many families got divided. Some kids whose grandparents living across the border and some have brothers and cousins living across the line. strange to see a line on a map breaking up families.
Both of the villages were surrounded by mountains. Some belonged to POK and others wore tricolored flags with pride. We saw some of the bunkers on the top of the mountains. Our soldiers are stationed on these shapeless mountains for 6 months at a time, holding Indian LOC, keeping insurgence like Kargil at bay. Yelling “Jai Hind” at the top of your lungs right in front of the PoK mountain gives you a strange high.
While returning back, again these young men picked me up and dropped me at my bus. When offered some reward, not to marginalize their service but as a token of appreciation, these men vehemently refused. But I couldn’t fall prey to their infectious smile after seeing the state of their living. I had to help them in some way. I just had to. Hope I did.
Again there was a heartbreak to see the back of village Thang and the heaven on earth that is Turtuk.