On the way back, the auto stopped at a garment shop and I purchased 2 salwar kameez material with Kashmiri embroidery. One black and one cream. The salesman said it would be 500 less without the bill or the sales copy. I said I wanted the bill.
As we came down, and met our father who had been waiting downstairs, my mother promptly reported what I had done with her usual ‘smile of the invalid’ on her face. And he yelled at me like a madman. Which Kashmiri pays tax to the government? What difference does a bill make???
I refused to get into the auto with them. And started walking back to the hotel. Soon as I sighted that beautiful road flanked on both sides by walls of poplar, there was a change of mood.
I turned left and walked on that street taking pictures. I walked back not having the courage to continue on that desolate. I got into a Shikara and sailed back to the banks by my hotel. I remember reclining completely on the bed, one foot raking the water surface. But before i had let go, I had taken some last pictures of the Shankaracharya temple, the TV tower and the dal lake. It was goodbye Kashmir, until next time.
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