View of Nagar from Hunza at dusk.

H4 Some things are beautiful in their simplicity; others in their intricacy.

within the north of Pakistan lies an really stunning district; Hunza Nagar, formerly known as Brushal, this region is a lakeside paradise. Hunza and Nagar used to be separate princely states parted with the aid of the River Hunza which marked the border among the two states.

The small states of Hunza and Nagar were infamous for looting trader caravans that would come from China.

The British wanted to expand their exchange to Russia from here, but the states wouldn’t allow them to. for that reason in 1891, Nagar turned into invaded by using the British navy led via Colonel Durand. British surrounded the Nagar’s Nalt fort, and sooner or later seized it six months later.

Frame from Nagar.

A pathway in Nagar.

A view of Nagar Khas.

soon energy changed into transferred from the British to the Maharaja of Kashmir, however due to the long distance, locals endured to live freely. Dongs, the capital of Nagar, turned into in Nagar Khas wherein royal courts and palaces of marble still exist. It remained the capital till the final royal of Maghlot Dynasty, Mir Shaukat Ali Khan, was in energy.

Hooper is the maximum lovely place in Nagar, a land of snow-clad mountains, however the sheer energy of glaciers to carve out new landscapes makes them intricately splendid too. In Gulmit valley lies Rakaposhi Mountain whereas the Diran top stands tall in Minapin.

An Aerial view.

On the way to Hooper

Garden on the way to Hooper.

On the way to Hooper.

Rakaposhi view from Nagar.

Sunset on Altar peak from Nagar.

A cattle is pictured grazing

Heading toward Hunza via the Karakoram highway, I word a protracted line of automobiles standing in queues due to a massive landslide blockading the street near Minapin. My driver takes an exchange direction thru the Minapin village, as I watch the beautiful surroundings race past. From the precariously slim and bumpy path my driver takes, I lookout for the Karakoram highway.

After a two-hour pressure, we eventually control to get lower back at the Karakoram highway. while the engine hastens in a timely fashion on our manner to Hunza, for the primary time ever, I see Nagar.

Luscious green grassland with Golden top within the backdrop, I see glad faces peering out, local children playing, ladies stretching their backs into the sunshine amid work, and animals grazing fields — Nagar is known for its serene village existence.

As quickly as one leaves Hunza and crosses the river bridge after Ganesh village, a street turning proper leads to Hooper. earlier than Hooper is Nagar Khas, which was once the centre of Nagar. The location is flecked with fruit bushes such as cherries, apples, and apricots.

Nagar Khas is full of hard-running, smooth-spoken human beings with small homes and stores. A street from the Nagar Khas Bazar results in the last village of north, Hispar, and every other toward Hooper, which houses glaciers and the frenzy lake. there's no human settlement after Hooper.

A child in Nagar.

Golden Peak.

Under the tree.

View of Golden Peak.

Golden peak in background.

Going to Hispar, I see open-air courtyards constructed round houses of stones in which children and domesticated animals play and live together. simply looking at the brilliant courtyards makes me want to spend a night time here.

a bit after the agreement is a waterfall with water as pure and candy as honey. The people right here are heart-warming and prefer to offer walnuts, apricots and different delights to tourists.

kids play out of doors their houses as I image them. A huge pear tree stands tall inside the courtyard, laden with pears. Crisp copper leaves tumble from the bushes and sway lightly within the Autumn wind.

“hi there, get me a few pears, won’t you please?” I jokingly ask. Unaware that a person within the residence can possibly listen me.

just a few minutes pass and a younger female appears from in the back of the door, hiding her face in the back of a red dupatta she palms me a basket complete of pears. As I thank her, she laughingly factors at a leaf in my hair and disappears at the back of the door.

A local at Nagar.

A child in Nagar.

Woman from Nagar.

A child in Nagar.

Autumn in Nagar khas.

I reach Hispar at sundown. The village does not appear like it belongs here. It seems like it’s cut off from the relaxation of the sector. A extraordinary silence and coolness surrounds the air. I determine to stay here for the night time.

As I stand inside the valley shaking with bloodless, I see a taking pictures famous person. Scared, I close my eyes as I sense it approaching toward me, as though it’s going to drop any 2d however the next second, it’s gone. It changed into scary, however I lengthy to see it once again.

in the wilderness, close-calls to demise are a exciting revel in too. these ditched lands are not handiest full of beauty and serenity, however additionally with terror and worry.

It’s a chilly morning up within the north. To get to Gojal’s village Hussaini, I ought to move the Attabad Lake.

The financial institution of the lake is crowded and anyone appears to be in a hurry to get to the other aspect. One facet of the financial institution plumbs a lake formed due to a landslide blockage that holds back the drift of the river. On the other facet lie black mountains. however I’m curious about the intensity of the lake.

As I see my jeep being loaded onto the boat, I sit. The historic-searching boat makes me dread the voyage even earlier than it started. The life jacket is of bad quality and appears scarier than the boat.

Enroute to Hisper.

Enroute to Hisper

Autumn in Hisper.

even as reminiscing my early life days, I sector tired. returned inside the day, on one of our own family journeys to River Jhelum, mom refused to permit me pass on a ship journey. I cried and cried, but there has been no manner she changed into going to allow me sit on a c5ed7369a5a50edae102076547d1405a boat. while I sat down via the river Jhelum and wept, the others enjoyed their experience.

I snap worn-out of my bizarre reminiscence as the journey involves a halt. With youngsters of the Hussaini village warmly waving at me, I go away behind my dejections, my worry of wrecked boats and the lifeless existence vest.

Walking on the road.