Page 10 of A Kiss in Kashmir

“That would be lovely!” Sharmila said. “I have never been in a houseboat. And yes, itwillbe a small group. I’m not sure how small at the moment.”

Sharmila hoped that someone from her own family would attend, but she hadn’t been able to reach her sister.In this day and age, she thought. Her sister routinely went into silent retreats, giving little or no notice to the family. Her parents had passed away about a year ago, without ever meeting Alina. Her sister had kept in touch, on and off. Over the last year, they had been talking a lot more and it had made Sharmila feel wonderful.

After bidding Mustafa farewell, George instructed the boatman to make a few rounds of specific areas of the lake that he loved. They made one more stop before heading to Sukoon.

They met Zarina, his favorite flower vendor on the lake.

George introduced Zarina and explained what was going on. “These ladies don’t want to get flowers from a big shop or give big companies their money. You will take care of them in the spring, Zarina? This young lady wants local flowers for her wedding.”

Zarina pulled out her phone in an instant. “Yes, yes, George, you know, I do this. Look at this, madam. My son and I make wedding decorations with wood and dried flowers, and we paint the dried leaves. You will have a wedding like no other. And, of course, if you have it in spring, you will have all kinds of tulips, daffodils, and daisies and more. But the money?” She looked concerned and turned to George.

He said easily, “Zarina, let them decide first. Don’t worry.”

Sharmila and Alina looked at the humble but eclectic designs that Zarina showed them.

“Ma, her designs are simple,” Alina whispered. “What do you think? I do like them.”

“See this, this is our Lilly Be Silly arrangement.” Zarina showed them some more photos. Both Alina and Sharmila were impressed.

“Yes, see, I told you,” George said. “She creates elaborate pieces of art with her flowers that are often playful and sweet. Trust me on this. She’s the best in town.”

“Thank you, Zarina. We will let you know our decision very soon,” Sharmila said, waving goodbye as Zarina’s shikara pulled away.

George turned to the boatman. “Please turn the shikara around. We have to go to the other side.”

As the boat turned, and the afternoon set in, the crowds on the lake diminished and tranquility returned.

Chapter 4

“Here we are at the Sukoon.” George broke the quiet mood on the boat. “This can be the main houseboat for your guests. I texted the owner so he’s expecting us. There he is. Come on in, let’s step inside and I’ll show you how to live on the water.”

Sukoon sat majestically in this secluded part of the lake, looking at the snowcapped Pir Panjal Range A number of shikaras passed by filled with tourists, with vendors not far behind.

George told the shikara boatman to pull up to the entrance of Sukoon.Alina quickly jumped up and was on the houseboat, chatting up the owner.

“Ma, did you know this boat used to be calledNeil Armstrong? They changed the name only a few years ago,” Alina said as she took pictures of the boat.

“Yes, my father had named it that,” the owner chimed in.

Sharmila stood up slowly and George offered her his hand again. She smiled at him, a bit shy at first, and then took it. “You have a delightful daughter, Sharmila,” George said, guiding her onto the houseboat.

“I am blessed. She is spirited and has a mind of her own! She keeps me on my toes for sure,” Sharmila said.

The dark wooden boat boasted a lavish interior that seamlessly blended modern luxury with age-old Kashmiri aesthetics. “Everything has character,” Sharmila remarked.

“This is for you.” The owner gave them both a light-blue shawl with Sukoon embroidered on it in pink. A soft pink border graced the edges of the shawl. “We give this as a welcome gift to all our guests.”

“Thank you for this. It is most gracious of you.” Sharmila was touched and grateful. She placed her own shawl in her bag and donned the new one.

“And now, George, let us show your guests the real magical place on the boat.” The owner led the trio to the spot in the houseboat that usually clinched the deal in a minute—the sun terrace.

George, Alina, and Sharmila stood in the center of the terrace overlooking the striking lake.

In the distance, the raad, small floating gardens, danced on top of the lake. The mountains farther off gently hugged the horizon.

“I have always suspected the boat gets its name from this view,” George said. “Sukoon means serenity.”

Sharmila and Alina nodded.

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