In spite of my reckless adventures and falalist streak, I am a girly girl at heart and flowers, moonlight, romantic songs and puppies still create butterflies in my stomach. Thus it had been no wonder, that the legendary beauty of Kashmiri saffron flowers had drawn me like magnet and it had been on an autumn morning few years ago, that I had flown to the lovely valley for their sighting. It had been in the month of October, when the Indian mainland was basking in languorous turn of weather and the country was gearing itself for endless festivals. Fluffy white clouds had raced across soft blue skies and cool temperatures had been tinged with fragrance of winter blooms.
It is my favourite time of an Indian calendar and usually I do not like leaving my hometown during those months. Saffron, however had proved to be irresistible and I can never say no to a Kashmir visit. One of the most precious and expensive spices in the world, saffron is predominantly grown in the state of Jammu and Kashmir in India and the Kashmir variety is considered to be of the best quality. According to historians, saffron was brought to India by the Persian rulers around 500.B.C and they had planted saffron corms brought from home, into the local soil, once they had conquered Kashmir.
Local folk lore refutes this theory and according traditional Kashmiri legends, saffron was introduced to the region during the 11th and 12th centuries A.D by two sufi ascetics. They believe that Khawja Masood wali and Sheikh Sharif-u-din wali, upon falling sick, had requested cure for their illness from a local tribal chieftain and they had repaid his kindness by gifting him a saffron crocus bulb as payment. This charming story is heartily accepted by most throughout the lovely valley and even today, thankful prayers are offered to the two saints during the saffron harvesting season in late autumn.
Although, the saints have a golden-domed shrine dedicated to them in the saffron trading town of Pampore, not every Kashmiri accepts this theory and many claim the herb to be nearly indigenous. The famous Kashmiri poet and scholar Mohammed Yusuf Teng, is one such person and he states that the plant had been cultivated in Kashmir for more than two millennia. The Kashmiri tantric Hindu epics of that time too, have well documented mentions of saffron cultivating traditions and Yusuf Teng writes, that “in the beautiful valley of Kashmir, fields of crocus sativus have heralded the dawn for close to 2500 years.” For a valley as beautiful as Kashmir, it seems quite befitting that the lovely precious flower should be growing there for centuries and if channelized properly it is a highly potential eco tourism option.
Growing only in a small patches in whole of Kashmir and in Kishtwar valley of Jammu province, this expensive herb is a specialty of Pampore, Khrew and Shar villages. Pampore even has an exclusive saffron or zaffran colony and that had been my first destination upon landing into Srinagar. The morning had been typically early Kashmiri autumn and light haze had hung low over the controversial valley. A slight nip had made the air crisp and autumn colours had mottled every corner into brilliant reds and yellows. The quintessential Chinar trees had sported rich golden brown cover and caramel coloured fallen leaves had crunched beneath the feet.
It had been a case of ” the journey being as beautiful as the destination” and my heart had sung like a free bird during the short drive to Pampore. Located quite close to the main city, Pampore was only 11 kilometers away on the Srinagar Jammu national Highway and I had smelled the flowers even before I had spotted them. Their fragrance had been mild, but steady and they had perforated through the thick dusty fumes of the highway traffic. I had never seen a saffron flower before and thus had no idea of what to expect, when the violet fields of Pampore had unfurled in front of me.
Although, my love for Kashmir’s beauty is not a secret, till today I have not found a sight more breathtaking than Pampore’s saffron fields. The flowers had grown like a carpet, close to the small ridged fields and bare branched almond trees had interspersed between them. Low back mountains had bordered the horizon and in the distance golden chinar trees had created rich rows. The almond and walnut trees had been leafless with only their delicate branches spreading in bare silhouette and the only touch of green had come from the willows, which had drooped close to the fields. The morning sun had not been visible through the rural haze and thus the endless stretching violet had melted into a soft, wispy distance. To me, it had seemed like a sea of violet and the flowers had undulated all the way from the road to the silent stony mountains in the background with occasional bright spots of colour being provided by the saffron collectors’ clothes.
The experience had been a sort of visual shock and I had taken some time to get over my beauty induced numbness to explore the fields. They had grown in clumps, close to the brown soil and each row had held stooped flower collectors busily piling the tender blooms into their willow baskets. The flowers had been in various stages of growth and beautiful varied shades of violet had ranged through the fields. The young ones had blushed folded lilac, while the mature flowers had flaunted their precious deep red stigmas boldly from their cup like hearts. The fields had belonged to the owners who had also doubled up as saffron collectors and their entire families had participated in the operation. Being a very delicate and precious crop, expertise is needed to cultivate saffron and Kashmiris, having the inherent qualities for extraordinary finesse and eye for details, are perfectly equipped to handle the painstaking harvest.
Preparation of the saffron fields begin in early July and the flowers bloom by end of October till early November. These delicate blossoms open their petals only in the mornings and are usually plucked on the third day of flowering. Kashmiri autumn dawns see saffron farmer’s entire families pour out into the fields and they fan out as fast as possible. While one batch of members collect the flowers, the others separate the precious stigmas from the blossoms. The stigmas are segregated, tied in small bunches as per grading and sun or press (newly introduced) dried. After drying, the stigmas shrink to one fifth of its size and their colour also deepen. The base of the dried stigmas are then snipped off, leaving only the purest red Kashmiri saffron in neat bunches and each of these small bouquets are more valuable than gold.
About 150,000 fresh flowers yield 1 kilogram of pure saffron and it sells at approximately 10 USD per gram i.e around 3000-4500 USD/kilogram. It contains only the red stigmas, which attribute to the herb’s legendary flavour, aroma and colouring qualities and it is truly a crop worth its weight in gold. The lower and cheaper grade of saffron is produced by mixing the red stigmas with the yellow styles and these are also quite good. The discarded saffron flower petals are eaten as vegetables in Kashmiri cuisine and Khambeer, the traditional medicine for cough and cold is extracted from it. The stems are used as animal feed and most of the best quality saffron is packaged for export purpose. Three varieties of saffron can be found in the Indian markets and they have pretty names like Lachcha, Mogra and Zarda.
Apart from its pretty colour and romantic names, saffron is also a heavily fragrant plant. It’s fields can be smelled from a distance and it is hard not to be overpowered by it’s intoxicating headiness. Needless to say, it had been a most delightful morning for me and I lingered in the fields until noon. Kashmir is one of the most romantic places on earth and every part of its beauty, culture, custom seems to have been moulded from poetry. Faint Iranian influences are still very much visible in each Kashmiri moment and the farmers’ families lunching on carpets under almond trees had reminded me of my Iran trips. Old Kashmiri men had smoked water pipes, while their women had busied themselves with their heavy steaming samovars and gossip. It had been a scene straight out of my north Iran travel memories and the only exception had been the heavy Kashmiri nun chai, instead of the crystal clear Iranian tea.
Nun chai had been perhaps the Indian influence on Kashmiri tea habit and the pink coloured salty beverage is heavily laced with milk. Made from special tea leaves, milk, salt, pistachios, almonds, cinnamon and cardamoms, the addition of a pinch of baking soda gives it the pronounced pink color while the milk makes it velvety Indian smooth. I too had enjoyed my cuppa of nun chai and sitting amidst the simple earthy farmers in home spun clothes, sun hats and baskets full of fragrant saffron, it had felt like pure pleasure. The sun had risen, burning off the haze and rural Kashmir valley had emerged like a sleepy child. For the saffron collectors, it had been time to take a break and and their happy chatter had rung through the violet valley.
With the sun warming my face, I had lain between the drying saffron to sum up my Pampore experience. It had been nothing that I had ever experienced before and till today, the memory to me, is as precious as the flower itself. The combination of blue sky, brown violet topped ridges, grey leafless branches and the aroma had been just too poetic to be true and I had remembered the Mughal emperor, Jahangir’s dream to enjoy a full moon night on the saffron fields of Kashmir. One of the most able Mughal emperors, warfare had been an art for this great ruler and the legendary lover, had been a die hard romantic. His passionate heart had throbbed for the beauty of Kashmiri saffron flowers and it had not been difficult to understand why.
The experience of seeing the beauty of saffron fields in bloom had been truly magical and the location of Kashmir valley had heightened the pleasure of the king sized dream. It could have been mistaken as heaven on earth except for the occasional faint gun shots from the nearby army training academy, which had broken the reverie. Only that, had not seemed right.
RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE.
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