
A beautiful fleet of gondolas struggle to stay afloat on the Dal, bobbing to a different rhythm from the times they hosted the rich and the famous
High above the banks of the Dal stands a 600-year-old chinar tree. Under its canopy lies a sinking, decaying houseboat of 1942 vintage where George Harrison of the Beatles once struck his early, tentative notes on the sitar.
Those were, however, the days of Kashmir8217;s glory as a Shangri-La high up in the Himalayas and a haven for foreign holiday makers. And Claremont Houseboats, a fleet of gondolas at the far edge of the Dal near Hazratbal shrine, served as a special retreat for diplomats and international celebrities.
Then came 1990 and everything changed in Kashmir. The guest book at Claremont8217;s front desk is a story of Kashmir8217;s days and nights of war and peace. Beaming in times of peace and enduring in the years of conflict, the Claremont Houseboats still manage to stay afloat.
The Golden Era
The year was 1966. The Beatles were at the height of their popularity when George Harrison came to India to broaden his knowledge of music and self. Harrison stayed at the Claremont, studying sitar under the tutelage of maestro Ravi Shankar.
8220;He was a kind man. I liked him very much. For someone with such fame, he was down-to-earth,8221; recalls Ghulam Nabi Butt, proprietor of Claremont Houseboats.
Adorning the walls of a small reception room are autographed pictures of celebrities who have walked into the Claremont over the years. Among the guests were Nelson Rockefeller, the 41 vice-president of the United States, award-winning actress Joan Fontaine, Bollywood legend Dilip Kumar, actor Michael Palin and Pulitzer Prize winning photo-journalist James Natchetway.
In a letter from 1978, Nelson Rockefeller recalls his experience at Claremont as 8220;a rare and extremely pleasant experience.8221; George Harrison describes it as a 8220;peaceful stay8221;.
Encompassed by Mughal walls built in the 16th century, the Claremont8217;s fleet lie on the banks of the Dal on a large semi-circular plot of land. Rose gardens and manicured lawns flank the property.
A wealthy British couple is said to have given the land to Butt8217;s father G.M. Butt when they left India in 1947. A seller of traditional Kashmiri handicrafts, Butt8217;s father turned hotelier overnight, transforming the land and single houseboat into a serene tourist destination. An entire wall of the reception room displays newspapers articles on the Claremont. A headline from 1966 is titled, 8220;Hotels You Won8217;t Want to Leave8221;; a clipping from the Washington Post reads, 8220;Paradise Served by Angels.8221; Then as things changed during the 1990s, the headline from a New York Times article dated August 21, 1995 sums up Claremont8217;s unfortunate predicament: 8220;Terror in Paradise Keeps Tourists From Kashmir.8221;
Drowning in Paradise
Most of the pictures in the reception room are fading. The ink is losing a battle against time and so is the houseboat that was a sanctuary to George Harrison. Now it lays surrounded by wild growth which nearly obscures the sinking structure. The front of the boat is missing, decapitated and is drowning in the Dal.
M. Ramzan, who has worked for the Claremont for 39 years, said, 8220;I have been here through it all,8221; he says. 8220;It was during the conflict that we could not operate anymore.8221;
During this time, Gulam Nabi Butt8217;s houseboats stood silent as if suspended in time. For many years, the sound of protests, gunfire and sirens replaced the chirping of birds and the sounds of the paddling ores in the Dal.
As violence swept through the Valley, tourists of a new breed came to the Claremont8217;s houseboats: the war correspondents. They did not come to unwind in the beauty of the region but arrived in search of a developing story.
Famed American broadcast journalist Peter Jennings stayed in the Claremont in 1999 to cover the Kargil conflict. 8220;It was great to have him with us,8221; Bhatt says, 8220;but I wish it was for some other reason.8221;
As the years of violence continued in Kashmir, the lack of upkeep at Claremont rendered the 1942 houseboat terminally ill and beyond repair. It now lies under the 600-year old Chinar, breathing its last.
Fragments of the Past, Present
Proud of its history, ambivalent of the recent past and optimistic about the future, Butt still receives tourists and journalists at the Claremont. He still has the same welcoming smile seen in pictures of the 60s.
8220;There has been a steady stream of guests after 2000 and I see no reason why they should ever stop,8221; says Butt.
Four houseboats built in the 1960s float next to its decaying forerunner. The off-white gondolas are ornately decorated in time-honoured Kashmiri style. The walls and ceiling are made of cedar wood-carving. In the dining room, a grand chandelier hangs above a table for eight.
Many houseboats in Kashmir have this flamboyant deacute;cor. So what separates the Claremont8217;s houseboats from the hundreds of others strewn across Dal Lake? 8220;The Butt family makes all the difference. They treat their guests as members of their own family. We are known for our hospitality,8221; says Ramzan.
Another factor distinguishes the Claremont from the rest. 8220;We are on 70 canals of land with floating lotus gardens on one side and a rose garden on the other,8221; says Ramzan. Most houseboats in Kashmir float in the middle of the Dal, accessible only by boat. They are strewn side by side of one another leaving little privacy. But the Claremont is at the northern end of the Dal with enough room to hold a football match.
Two houseboats remain open for business while the third faces its inevitable demise under the chinar tree. The 600 year-old chinar has witnessed Kashmir swing between times of war and peace and so has a resilient Butt. 8220;We will be here as we always have,8221; he says.