Two big srane nave (congregation boats) stand still inside the Dal Lake; people sit inside for a ceremonial feast remembering a neighbour who died 40 days ago. Those who finish their meal take a Shikara to the shore. In the Dal Lake, except for burials, people have found ways to fetch all their needs from the water. But the dwellers here are not happy with this aquatic life.

From children to young people and old men, everyone who live inside Dal find their life miserable when they compare it with the life on land or the life of their fathers in the old Dal – of which only a legend remains now.

The tiny boats row through the narrow canals in the convoluted intestines of Dal Lake where the oars entangle in the weeds, the polythene and the twigs fallen from the young willows. Small shops selling handicrafts, grocery, line the canal. There are a few scattered tailoring shops, butchers, bakers and also concrete showrooms.

A woman sitting in Shikara blocks the narrow route as she talks to two other women squatting on the base of the wooden stairs which descend from their small concrete home into the greenish waters of Dal. They scrub shirts and utensils and discuss the death of a neighbour. They too remember the old happy days when Dal was clean and they were healthy. “Now, it is a mess and we have to live here and get ill because of pollution,” says one of them as she splashes the dirty leftover detergent water from the bucket into the Dal. “We want the Dal to be clean, it is our home but the Government doesn’t want it to be clean.”

... contd.