Guest Post by SABAH HAMID

The pilot announces we’re approaching Srinagar. I have a window seat near the right wing, and I lean forward to look down. I always do this, trying to catch a first glimpse of the city I call home despite having lived away for more than half my lifetime now. Today, for the first time, I’m afraid of what I’ll see. The entire valley was flooded two weeks ago when the river Jhelum and then the Dal Lake spilled over. This is not the first flood to hit Kashmir, but nothing of this magnitude has been experienced in living memory. As we descend, I see a lot of large muddy tracts wherever I look. The elderly gentleman sitting in the aisle seat next to me mutters something, probably a prayer, and I turn to look at him. He shrugs resignedly, and I shrug back.

There are an unusual number of Indian passengers in the plane, and at the baggage carousel I am reminded of this again. It’s odd to have tourists so soon after the floods. I cannot make sense of it. Catching sight of a pair of fashionably dressed young women I wonder if they are the relatives of armed forces personnel stationed in the Valley.  It does not matter. I collect my lone suitcase, shoulder my backpack, and head to the pre-paid taxi counter. My parents live close by, just two kilometres away, and I am hoping to hitch a ride with someone if no taxis are available.

Exactly two Sundays ago though, when my parents, sister and young cousin landed in Srinagar, those two kilometres turned out to be very long indeed. Continue reading After the Flood: Sabah Hamid →