Every summer, the scenic town of Pahalgam in south Kashmir erupts into a hub of spiritual fervour as thousands of Hindu pilgrims trek to the sacred Amarnath cave.
In the shadow of the Himalayas, a hidden valley in Kashmir draws waves of Israeli backpackers, spiritual seekers, and those chasing a whisper of ancient connections between Moses, meadows, and myths 바카라 웹사이트
Every summer, the scenic town of Pahalgam in south Kashmir erupts into a hub of spiritual fervour as thousands of Hindu pilgrims trek to the sacred Amarnath cave.
But venture eastward from the Pahalgam Club, past the bifurcating road that leads tourists to the famed Baisaran meadows—recently stained by tragedy—and you’ll stumble upon a different kind of pilgrimage.
Welcome to Aru Valley, a highland retreat that some jokingly call Israel라이브 바카라 most peaceful “settlement” outside the Holy Land.
Nestled 12 km upstream from Pahalgam along the glacial Lidder River, Aru Valley has quietly become a summer sanctuary for Israeli backpackers. Between May and September, the tiny village hosts hundreds of young Israelis—most fresh out of military service—who come seeking peace, nature, and perhaps a touch of the mystical.
“We had nearly a 100 guests last year before the trouble started again,” Fayaz Ahmad Malik, proprietor of the Fimi Guest House, told me when I was in the region in 2017.
“They come here for treks, birdwatching, and to unwind. And they clean their own rooms, help in the kitchen—unlike other tourists.”
While official maps mark Aru as a trekking base to Kolhoi Glacier and Tarsar Lake, village walls tell another story—one written partly in Hebrew. Local children greet tourists with “shalom”, and weathered signboards bear instructions in a language foreign yet now familiar.
Some locals, like the elderly Abdul Gani Sheikh, have picked up conversational Hebrew without ever leaving the Valley. “They come back every year. We learn from each other,” he says, proudly reciting phrases he라이브 바카라 picked up over two decades.
There is more to the story than mere tourism. Some backpackers whisper of something deeper. “This place has something spiritual,” says one visitor, his eyes resting on the tree-lined horizon. “It라이브 바카라 more than just trekking. You feel it in the air.”
That air, however, has not always been safe. In 1991, a little-known militant group attempted to abduct Israeli tourists from a Srinagar houseboat. Four years later, five Western backpackers vanished from the very mountains overlooking Pahalgam.
These incidents, coupled with travel advisories from the Israeli government, once reduced footfall to a trickle. But stories of warmth and glowing online reviews kept Israeli youth returning.
“I first went to Himachal Pradesh,” says Hain Cohen, a fresh conscript from Tel Aviv. “But then a friend sent pictures from Aru and said not to believe the media. So I packed my bags and came.”
At Rohella Guest House, eight such backpackers had checked in. “We host nearly 250 Israelis each year,” boasts its owner, Ghulam Qadir Sheikh. Despite the ever-present shadow of conflict in the region, the valley라이브 바카라 reputation as a “safe haven for Israelis” persists.
Interestingly, Aru is not Kashmir라이브 바카라 only brush with the Holy Land. In the remote village of Butho in Bandipora district in north Kashmir lies a mysterious grave nestled within the shrine complex of Hazrat Bibi Arifa—believed by some to be the final resting place of Prophet Moses himself.
While the custodian, Ghulam Muhammad Reshi, dismisses the theory as misplaced myth, a well-thumbed diary in his home records visitors from Uganda to Germany, drawn by stories read online about “the burial site of Moses”.
The tale echoes local folklore and aligns curiously with academic musings. Kashmiri historian Pervez Dewan, in his book A History of Kashmir, posits that Jews frequented the Valley even in pre-Islamic times.
“Some may have stayed back, converting first to Hinduism, then to Islam,” he writes. He highlights Hebrew influences on Kashmiri cuisine, customs, and even language.
In Bijbehara, there라이브 바카라 a weather-worn stone known as “Ka Ka Pal”—a cryptic nod to the 11 lost tribes of Israel. Another stands in Baramulla. Pandit Ram Chand Kak, a former prime minister of Jammu and Kashmir, noted that names like ‘Moses’ were common in the region and drew parallels between Kashmiri tribes and ancient Israelites.
Still, belief, not proof, fuels these myths. In 2016, an American woman spent three days meditating inside the Butho shrine. “She thought it was sacred ground,” Reshi recalls. “But I told her—Musa isn’t buried here.”
Yet perhaps that doesn’t matter. Myths endure not because they are true, but because they offer a sense of belonging to those searching for meaning. For the Israeli travellers, who pitch tents in Aru and share meals with Kashmiri hosts, these stories deepen the connection to a land far from home, yet strangely familiar.
Beyond the meadows and myths, Aru stands as a curious symbol—of quiet resilience, unexpected friendships, and the unspoken belief that peace can flourish even in conflict라이브 바카라 backyard.
As the sun sets behind the snow-dusted peaks and a Hebrew song floats through the pine-scented air, one is reminded that borders may divide land, but stories—like rivers—flow where they will.
(Views expressed are personal)
(The author is a senior journalist)