The 19th-century term “flȃnerie” is an antithesis to the touristic gaze. Flȃnerie, in simple terms, means to roam around without a sense of purpose or urgency. As a tourist visiting Kashmir, you would have numerous places on your itinerary in each city and town, from a quaint shikara ride on the Dal Lake to shopping for shawls and pherans. But what about the Kashmiris living there? Where do they go for strolls? What are their favourite places to eat? Where do couples meet in Srinagar? For many, it is hard to imagine Kashmir as a place of leisure, given its turbulent history and long curfews. But it was a romantic Kashmiri poet, Rasul Mir, who once wrote a song about love and roaming around: Rind Posh Maal, Gindne Draye Lo Lo (Beautiful Posh Maal has gone out to play). Immortalised in the film Mission Kashmir, it is a famous wanwun song, performed during rituals and weddings.
If you count picnics as flȃnerie too, then it is impossible to speak of leisure in Kashmir without mentioning them. Kashmir has had an age-old tradition of picnicking. On the first day of spring called Sonth, Kashmiri families would pack delicacies like rogan josh and rice, breads from Koshur bakeries, sheer chai and kehwa in thermoses along with a dastarkhwan (tablecloth) and head to the nearest bagh or park to enjoy the day in the sun. This tradition has endured because spaces of community-gathering—private and public gardens, famous baghs like Shalimar and Nishat in Srinagar, Betaab Valley and its almond gardens, fruit orchards—continue to thrive. Long walks with a softie ice-cream while watching the sunset at Dal Lake, evening tea at near the Jhelum Bund and Lal Chowk, lingering over a slice of almond cake at Ahdoos, gathering at the local Kandur’s for gossip while he bakes fresh bread for breakfast and evening tea, exchanging pleasantries after prayers at the Hazratbal shrine and Zeathyar shrine of Zeashta Devi—these places are frozen in time for most Kashmiris. Today, the places of community-gathering in Kashmir have taken a slightly different turn.
For food critic and author, Marryam H. Reshii, a park on the Jhelum Bund is a special place for a leisurely stroll. She says, “The chinars there rustle in the breeze, and the Bund will always be special and atmospheric. There’s a cross-section of people who come there: couples trying to get away from it all, people offering prayers after each azaan, chaat vendors from Uttar Pradesh and Bihar sitting with one another for a chat, and there are college students and shopkeepers from the neighbourhood. There’s always someone around yet, it is never crowded. Plus the view of the Jhelum is wonderful.” The cafes spread out on the Bund are a space of congregation for people of all ages, but most importantly, for women.
Onaiza Drabu, author and translator shares, “In the last decade, there have been cafes popping up in and around Srinagar—some also in the old city but much more elsewhere. The earliest ones that changed the space were 14th Avenue, Chai Jaai, and Books and Bricks Café—across ages, these spaces are often multi-generational too. As opposed to the older establishments in the city, like Ahdoos, groups of women meet in cafes for a casual coffee or even work by themselves.” Differing from these modern spaces, Drabu mentions that “traditionally, shrines, such as the Dastgeer Sahib shrine, are also spaces where women congregate for faith and friendships. For women, going to gardens and parks by themselves or unchaperoned in groups still may not be that common but spaces like the Zanana Park in Raj Bagh and Pratap Park now see women venturing out together for walks.” Similarly, according to Komal JB Singh, who belongs to the Sikh community of Kashmir, picnics and visits to the Mughal Gardens after offering prayers at the gurudwara on Baisakhi is a cherished activity. Singh says, “Gurdwaras and different religious functions play a vital role for Sikhs since these spaces allow for community-gathering for everyone including women and children.”
Drabu suggests that Kashmiris prefer to go out for snacks and have full meals at home. Attesting to this, Reshii adds that it is the cold coffee at Jawahar Nagar's Edrina that remains etched in her memory. They serve coffee or mango shake, with or without ice-cream. Recalling her memories, she says, “When we used to visit from Safa Kadal, our ancestral home, the feeling of “bhaari paap” (grave sin) after drinking the deliciously strong and sweet cold coffee with swirls of ice-cream filled my husband and me with glee. Even today, it has the same feeling of guilty pleasure.”
Tauseef Ahmed from Chanapora (name changed upon request) suggests, “Kashmiri families usually visit places like Pahalgam, Gulmarg or Manasbal during summers. In Srinagar, it is the Jhelum that is synonymous with leisurely strolls.” For Ahmed, too, the newly-renovated Bund area on both sides of Jhelum is a favourite. Another change he has noticed in leisure activities for families is that “folks from the outskirts of the city don’t visit Lal Chowk that often as many restaurants, fast food joints and cafes have now opened to cater to the demand in areas like Sanat Nager, Hyderpora, Barzulla and Bemina”.
For journalist Sajad Rasool, leisure activities consist of hikes to picturesque corners of the valley. He says, “I firmly believe that the closer I am to forests, valleys, and water bodies, the more I find solace and inner peace.” For him, hiking to the meadows in Zicekhal, vicinities of Doodhpathri (Valley of Milk) and short strolls around his village in Raithan feel like a personal retreat—a sanctuary where he can recharge and find clarity.
According to an anonymous source, “For years, the local moral-policing mobs had terrorised couples. But that was a time when cafes were few. Srinagar only had one (Coffee Arabica) to begin with, and then another called Cafe Robusta—both on MA Road, and inaccessible by the moral police. They would have been safe, but it was very likely that you would run into family, friends, or just someone you know. Today, even though there are a lot of cafes, the likelihood of running into people you know is quite high because the cafe-goers essentially comprise the same crowd that hops from one cafe to another.” When it comes to spaces that engaged or married couples tend to frequent, the source adds, “Hotels like the Vivanta Taj, The LaLiT, and Sarovar have become preferred locations for the kind of prestige attached to them. Broadly speaking, about Srinagar, cafes and restaurants in uptown Srinagar and the University area remain safe spaces for the class of Kashmiris that is younger, better educated and comes from more affluent families. Most couples still prefer gardens, shrines and colleges, and literally any public space that offers a place to rest in shade. Gardens and parks cater to diverse socio-economic groups, with the more affluent preferring gardens like Shalimar over parks.”
According to Dr Aijaz Ahmed Bund, an openly queer Kashmiri, LGBTQIA+ rights activist and author of Hijras of Kashmir: A Marginalised form of Personhood, cruising in public spaces is of crucial significance for the queer community of the region. Bund says, “It not only provides a sense of community but creates a culture that adds to a sense of security. It creates an aura of self-expression and sexual liberation. The ultimate motive is to form a close network of people where sexual encounters are expected to be clandestine. The sanctity of the community is maintained in a codified manner.”
He states, “Cruising has always been an essential part of life of gay and bisexual men in Kashmir. These cruising sites have existed for hundreds of years, away from the public gaze. Navigating these spaces is indeed an act of rebellion against the heteronormative standards existing in our society.” Elaborating on the subject of cruising, Bund adds, “Cruising in Kashmir, especially represents a multifaceted relationship between the public space, homoerotic desire and a construction of queer identity and subjectivity. It brings to fore complex undercurrents between the performance of homosexual identity and the prevailing rigid heteronormative ideologies. There are so many challenges for the people identifying as queer and Muslim at the same time. So to live in Kashmir, coming out of the closet and navigating these spaces as a queer person means opening a Pandora’s box of problems which could be very disastrous. At the same time, you can go on a date with your partner anywhere, and that’s okay because Kashmir is, at the same time, very homosocial. Like, two people sitting together holding hands is not a big deal.”
Amir Suhail Wani, author of Lights from Sinai: Traditional Response to the Modern World with a degree in electrical engineering from NIT Srinagar, has cerebral palsy-induced speech spasticity. He counts Khanqah-e-Moula, Hariparbat, Gulshan Bookshop, Bestseller, and Parsa’s at Lal Chowk among his favourite leisurely spots but suggests that traditional leisure activities haven’t been accommodating of differently-abled people in Kashmir. He says, “There are structural and abstract factors depriving those with disabilities their right to dignified enjoyment at picnic spots. The first reaction that emerges is from those around us. The public apathy and disgruntlement for people with disabilities is only exacerbated by the administrative insensitivity and indifference. There are picnic spots where there are stairs which people with disabilities may not be able to surmount. This is not compensated by ramps and there aren’t any wheelchairs either. Meanwhile, public lavatories are not only unfriendly for the disabled but also pose structural and hygienic issues for the able-bodied. The total absence of guides to help those with disabilities to manoeuvre around only shows that people with disabilities do not qualify as full citizens to administration—their needs would have been catered otherwise.”
Hans Sadhu, director of Kanz & Muhul: Kashmiri Spice Market and son of Nalini Moti Sadhu, well-known chef and restaurateur who runs Matamaal: The Kashmiri Restaurant in Gurugram, frequents the valley for sourcing trips for both ventures. These trips bring him closer to his family’s past in Kashmir and his parents fondly share nostalgic picnics of their past with him. He says, “A trip is incomplete without a visit to pray at the Mata Kheer Bhawani Temple in Tulmul and a meal at Ramji Halwai’s shop that serves authentic vegetarian Kashmiri Pandit cuisine.” Having gone into business with a former chef from Matamaal, Mohammad Yousaf, as his vendors for Kashmiri walnuts, Sadhu visits his home in Beerwah, Budgam and together, both families venture out to the apple orchards for a tea-focused picnic with samovars, bread in wicker baskets, a Kashmiri carpet and, occasionally, a lovely home-cooked meal. The orchards around the area are filled with apricots, walnuts and fig trees.
On these trips, they sometimes take along family and friends and representatives of the conglomerates to which Kanz & Muhul supplies Kashmiri spices and nuts, including saffron. Speaking of his visits to the saffron fields of Pampore, poet Habba Khatoon’s town, Sadhu says, “It is one of the most beautiful places that everyone should experience. The full bloom of saffron occurs for about two to three weeks, and one can just pluck fresh saffron from the purple fields. After a hard day’s work there, I look forward to the Pampori sheermal. It’s very different from what you get in other parts of Kashmir; one of the famous brands over there is the ‘Hema Malini Sheermal’. We have this sheermal with Kashmiri tea which is brewed without leaves and contains only saffron, some cardamom and a little bit of sugar.”
While Sadhu’s trips take him to different towns across the valley, cinematographer Anmol Kachroo discovered a feeling of home in the ‘chillai kalan,’ the peak of winter, in Rainawari, Srinagar. Of his experiences of living as a local, Kachroo says, “Since my childhood, we used to go to Kashmir and visit places like Gulmarg, Sonmarg, Dal Lake like tourists; there was no feeling of belonging. But when I went to Mumbai, I realised what we have lost—our culture and roots. When I used to go back to Jammu during the holidays, it felt like while I was going home, this is not where I belong. I used to make up excuses to visit Kashmir even though my parents wouldn’t allow me to do so. I’ve even gone to Kashmir after lying to my parents about my whereabouts. There, I experienced a feeling of belongingness.” He then got an opportunity to stay with a Kashmiri Muslim family in Rainawari during the winters. “I hadn’t seen snow until then. A feeling of fear lingered but I wanted to get rid of it. I would visit local shops and talk to people there. I used to go for a long walk in the neighbourhood to the ruins of an old temple. Because it was quite cold, I didn’t venture too far from the locality. Whenever I go back to Kashmir, I visit the ruins and sit on the stairs there. There are fewer people around and you can see the interiors of Dal Lake from there.”
Another place, that one will not find on any tourism websites or brochures, but is a local favourite, is Mushtaq Ahmed Tea Stall at Bund in Srinagar. Kachroo says, “His customers are mostly journalists, writers and artists who converge and have discussions for hours. I was the only Kashmiri Pandit in that crowd and they all knew that. So, I got to have conversations with people of diverse backgrounds and age groups. The conversations went on for so long that everyone would have finished around 10-15 cups of tea. The Jhelum flowed right by the Bund while we talked over sips of tea.”
Flȃnerie is an intricate part of the social fabric for Kashmiris. Here, traditional picnics, visits to shrines, leisurely strolls through public spaces and stopping for a chat with someone over a cup of tea is not uncommon. For many, navigating these spaces has its own challenges too. But if there’s one thing that all Kashmiris, whether single or coupled up, cis-het or queer, young or old, local or non-local, would attest to is eating hazelnuts roasted over hot coals at hawker stands. Once you have a handful and forget where you were headed off to, that’s when you truly become a flȃneur in Kashmir.