Tea and cookies and prepared a lunch together. Wives, kids, flowers, cousins, dogs, Grandmas, everyone was there.  We were given Kashmiri names, Zia and Joseph Gufara.  We ‘kind of’ politely smoked jajir or sheesha or huka on pillows on the floor of the brother’s home after a filling meal.  Away we went loaded with gifts and armloads of flowers.  Paddling back the 2 miles to our houseboat we felt blessed to have shared such a meaningful afternoon with this Kashmiri family.

Sitting on the front deck of our houseboat, engulfed in the serenity of Nigeen Lake, we are surrounded by over a century of the relaxed spirits of like minded travelers.  Through the ages people have sat and contemplated life, gazing over the mirror like lake, with the back drop of the Himalayas.  Scores of eagles circle high above; like us often contemplating food instead of infinite consciousness or the meaning of life.

Generations of families have been born, grown, aged, and passed on, as do the guests they take care of.  Gulam, our houseboat man is part of the bigger family.  His wife, Kulsum, is cook # 2 and their 5 year old daughter, Nida, was nicknamed Princess.  Cook # 1 Mymoona, prepared a tasty Indian/Kashmiri dinner every evening in the dining room; aloo palak a favorite.  Ab-hamid works in the taxi stand at the airport and supervises operations of the boat.  He snags wayward tourists to stay a night or 2, but mostly we had the whole place to ourselves.  Young couples in love, new students at the University, a few western backpackers pass through like the wind.  The world comes to us!  Only one gale force tempest passed through for a week.  An unstable young woman from the Middle East, stirred up our peaceful life with the large chip on her shoulder and we were glad to bid her adieu.