Queen of the Mountains.

Having spent a year in Turkey away from my birthplace, Lahore (Pakistan), I was sure that I would jump at the chance to express my love for the magnificent city that I call home. Yet I am surprised by how much I miss the time that I spent away from Lahore. Not because I don’t miss it immensely, but because up until now the time spent away signified and celebrated the time that I spent with my family. Away from unwanted distractions, away from responsibilities and away from monotonous routines. That is why today, I chose not to talk about my lively hometown, but about the quaint small town named Murree.

Growing up, family trips to Murree have always been some of my most cherished memories. Every summer, our bags would be packed to the brim with board games, playing cards and DVDs for our late-night activities. The best part about packing for me would be eyeing the school books that would stay back home, so as not to interfere with our entertainment plans over the next few weeks.

The beautiful city of Murree, also referred to as “the Queen of Mountains”, is one of the major reasons why I love travelling today. It is a hill station located towards the North of Punjab, not far from Azad Kashmir. Bustling with tourists, its peak season starts from May and goes well into to September, after which extensive cloud cover and, eventually, snow engulfs this small town over the harsher winter months.

Sitting in the car, I remembered how awestruck I felt as a child, staring into the distance at the grandeur of mountains as they emerged from behind the clouds. It was not long before the landscape changed, and from within the car, the wide, straight roads became narrow and winding, moving up and down with the rocky terrain. I used to get carsick at that point when I was little, but this time I simply allowed myself to take it all in and enjoy the experience.

After five and a half hours of scenic drives and good music, we finally reached the house. It was pretty tiring despite there being no physical exercise throughout the car ride, but we were instantly greeted by a cool breeze as we stepped outside. This had always been my favorite part about coming to this city, the perfect weather.

And so, after resting for about ten minutes, I decided to go out for a walk. The wind brushed against my face lightly, as I walked up the rocky road. Soon small campfires began to light up at a settlement a few feet away to prepare for the chilly night, while I could hear the soft crunch of goats chewing quietly on the grass nearby. There it was, the refreshing authenticity and freshness of nature. I walked a little further and was surrounded by evergreen pine trees, followed by a crisp scent of pine cones and leaves assailing my senses. My thoughts were disrupted by a sudden pang of hunger and I remembered that it was Biryani night. Naturally, I turned back towards the house.

The next day we headed over to the chairlifts, which was always something I looked forward to during these trips. As we would ascend into the air, we would look at the mountain ranges from above and be able to truly appreciate the beauty of this magnificent place. The great mountain ranges made for a splendid view, but that was only the start of an adventurous day ahead. After the ride was over, another 10-minute walk lead us straight to the Mall Road, which is perhaps the busiest area in the town. Located at Kashmir Point, is a tourist haven, ranging from locally manufactured ethnic goods to mouthwatering edible treats. I was greeted by the familiar aroma of salty roasted corn followed by the overly sweet ice cream machines. The cynosure of colors would always make me think of the place as a moving painting, with gleaming jewelry stalls, vibrant printed shawls and clothes etched with tiny mirrors and beads.

Not only can one find people in abundance here, but horses too. Horse rides are another factor that evoke feelings of nostalgia whenever I think about Murree. I remember how as children everything about the horse ride, from mounting it to climbing off would be a thrilling experience for us. It felt pleasing to watch other kids smiling as they rode the horse slowly, accompanied by an adult. Just the smile was enough to suggest that the horse ride at that time was a victory of sorts – an achievement unmatched by any other. I felt a slight tickle as something gently popped in my hair, and as I turned to the side, I could see a young boy blowing soap bubbles out of a mixture of what smelt like hand sanitizer and washing detergent. Girls and boys holding paper windmills, flower crowns and leaf baskets all made the streets seem like a scene straight out of a medieval festival.

It was time to head back. With our stomachs grumbling, we could think of nothing else, but food and the air was filled with the wonderful aroma of fried items all around, both savory and sweet. We stopped by to grab some samosas, a deep-fried pastry with potato filling, as well as jalebis, a light and airy batter deep-fried and glazed in sugar syrup. Yes, everything had to be deep fried. These goodies, coupled with a cup of hot chai tea, were the perfect ending to a great day.

As we headed back, I gave some deep thought as to why I missed Murree so much more than Lahore. Was it just the colors, the lights and the food? I was sure I could find that in Lahore, and even the very same people that had made the trip with me. But as we all sat in the lounge for a game of monopoly, I figured it out. Murree signified the best things about being with my family. It wasn’t a time to discuss the so-called “important” issues, family politics, studies, or inquiring about every niece, nephew and grandchild’s next step towards self-proclaimed adulthood. It was a time to sit back and enjoy hot pakoras and coffee under the sunset, while cousins would fight about which movie to watch next – never quite coming to an agreement. It was a time when no unwanted jealousies would creep in, no cold shoulders and no harsh comments.

“What are you writing”? asks my sister.

“Just calculating what my properties are worth on the gameboard so I can beat you”, I say.

The game continues…

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