Pakistan in Pictures

[[Bregs]]

Some of the pics looks like out f this world heavenly

 

[DESERT FIGHTER]

Shangrila Resort:

Nangaparbat Rupal base camp:

Boltoro Glacier :

Hunza:

 

[[Bregs]]

Breathtaking scenic places

 

[DESERT FIGHTER]

Islamabad :

Lahore - old City:

My "photography".. (lol)..,


Attock Bridge... River Kabul (dark water) meets Indus (blue water):

Breathtaking scenic places

Bhai which city in india are you from ?

Hingol National Park Baluchistan:

....

 

[Hallian_Khan]

this is very unique amazing thread without any oneupmanship replies....lol

hope u r not missing thm

 

[ghazi52]

Click..........
..........Islamabad in 2.2 Gigapixels

.
.
© Zulqarnain Ali Syed
Islamabad 2.2 Gigapixels; is an exposure merging of 552 pictures to create 184 HDR photos, stitched together showinga very high-resolution (148960 x 14862 = 2213843520 px) panoramic view of the Pakistan's capital.
Equipment: Canon T4i, 70-200mm f/4L.

p.s .........Each zoom level calls for new pictures to be loaded of whats in view, in case of pixelated image wait for theHD version to load.

 

[[Bregs]]

@DESERT FIGHTER

bro i am from Chandigarh

hope u r not missing thm

lol i am not missing dear at all, i love spending time on this thread and get to know abt amazing tourism potential of this side in peace without any trolling

 

[RabzonKhan]

Gojal: Where Pakistan begins

Syed Mehdi Bukhari

It’s the second week of November. There is a tremendous silence around me; snowflakes fall gently from the sky. The day is so white — there’s no color in sight save for my red jeep and gray jacket, all other colors have become invisible under the thick snow.

There is neither a military check post, nor any signs of civilian settlement here. This is the Pak-China border, and I am standing at the Khunjerab Pass, with my face towards Pakistan’s brother, China.

Attabad Lake Crossing.

As the boat is fully loaded, the sailor lifts the anchor. You couldn’t hear the person next to you in the terrible noise of engine, so everyone is involved in himself. The journey is 45 minutes long. As the boat makes a sharp turn, I see Passu Cones, a series of mountains pointed as nails.

Strong winds rock the boat, my heart easily skips a couple of beats. The sailor observing my face, smiles. I look past him at the Passu Cones, just to not feel the fear, I tell myself. The boat finally reaches the bank, and everyone gets off. The sailors are mostly Pakhtuns, who have come here to earn a living. I had a brief exchange with the sailor. He happened to have sailed in the Kabul River once, now the Attabad Lake is his second home.

I have reached the Hussaini Village. In the bright sunlight, the Passu Cones are bathed in gold.

Gulmit Village and Passu Cones.

Gulmit Village.

This entire area is called Upper Hunza or Gojal. The Gojal Valley borders China and Afghanistan, with its border meeting the Chinese border at Khunjerab — 15,397 feet above sea level — and remains covered with snow all year long.

In the north west, there is Chiporsun, whose border touches the Wakhan region of Afghanistan. Wakhan is about six square miles in area, after which starts Tajikistan. The Karakoram Highway which connects Pakistan to China also passes through Gojal Valley and enters China at Khunjerab.

Karakoram Highway in Gojal.

As I exit the Hussaini Village, I see children crowding the road. Golden hair, blue eyes, and faces so red they could outshine apricots! Riding along the river, I reach Gulmit, Gojal’s most populated village.

It is autumn, and it feels as if the entire village is asleep in the cool afternoon. The blowing wind frees the leaves from trees, and this is the only sound I can hear.

The Passu Cones were in sight constantly. The fields have been harvested, and the farmers are resting in their homes. I pass by a few elderly women, wearing traditional caps, followed by naughty little children. In return to my salutations, I receive countless prayers. When my jeep moved forward, I could see the children waving in my rear view mirror.

A child at Hussaini.

A child at Hussaini.

Just one kilometer ahead, the Borith Lake appears. There is an old hotel at the bank of the lake, the taste of its food still fresh in my memory. The bank had tall grass; in the backdrop, there stand snow-covered mountains, and their reflection would cast a spectacular white in the murky water. Four waterhens lazily float on surface.

The lake is coloured black, and I feel joyous at the sight of these swamp chickens. But as Mustansar Hussain Tarar says, “What do four waterhens have to do with happiness?”. Happiness comes from somewhere inside. At some point in the past, the lake was home to waterlife and migrating birds, but now the level is reducing and the lake is gradually drying up.

The gang of waterhens flies and vanishes somewhere far away in the mountains. Happiness has nothing to do with them, but I sense my own fled with them. An elderly man came out of the hotel, welcomed me, and said: “Terrorism has badly affected tourism. Not many people visit such faraway lands now. Once in a blue moon there’s a random traveler, who becomes the source of my bread. You must click some nice photographs and show them to the world so that tourism once again gains momentum. Come, I will feed you some great meals.” His sweet bribe made me teary as I smiled at him in response.

A Danish girl approaches me and we start conversing — she is a doctorate student who is doing a thesis on climate changes in the Karakoram Mountain Rrange. She told me that she liked the lake so much, that she had been staying here at the Borith Lake for the past three months.

Then she asked me if I had ever seen the lake on a full moon night. I responded negatively. She insisted, “you won’t that photograph anywhere else.”

My driver and I eat, while she talks. When I am finally about to leave, she says, “Your country is beautiful, do go to the Batura Glacier if you happen to visit the Passu Village, I have seen swans gathering on the white snow of the glacier.”

The Glacial Lake of Batura Glacier Passu.

 

[RabzonKhan]

Gojal: Where Pakistan begins
Syed Mehdi Bukhari continues:

Autumn and the Karakoram Peaks.



I had to leave this beautiful place, even though I really didn't want to. When you are travelling towards Sost from Passu, a jeep road turns to Shimshal. This is a vast area and its borders touch both China and Baltistan.

Pamir is also in the Shimshal Valley. Due to its hard terrain, it was disconnected from rest of the world until a jeep road was built here. The locals have given many sacrifices for the construction of this road.

Shimshal is famous for producing the country's finest mountaineers, including Samina Baig, who is the first Pakistani woman to have climbed Mount Everest. Shimshal’s Rajab Shah and Meherban Shah have scaled Pakistan’s highest summit. Experienced mountaineers in Pakistan mostly hail from Shimshal.

Hussaini Village.

Hussaini Village.


Sost, the last town of Pakistan, is filled with motor workshops. There is no other settlement on the Karakoram Highway when you leave Sost for China. After Sost, there is the Khunjerab Pass at 15,397 feet above sea level, where China and Pakistan’s border is located. Apart from Pakistan Customs office, there’s a dry port in Sost, where goods to and from China are stored.

A large number of traders and labourers from different areas of Pakistan dwell here, which has given rise to economic activities more than other places in the region. After Sost, a jeep road turns to the Chiporsun Valley. It’s northwestern part is connected to Afghanistan’s Wakhan area through the Irshad Pass.

Ahead of Sost is Khunjerab, which is the last Pakistani territory. The name actually is combination of two words Khun (blood), and Yeraf (glacial stream), and literally translates to 'Stream of Blood'.

It is said that an ancient psychic had once prophesied that a battle would be fought here, and that the bloodshed would be so great that the horse riders’ feet would be dripping with blood. Thus, the area is named so. This region is home to several rare species, including snow leopards, bears, and the golden eagle.

The water stream near Sost.


At Khunjerab, the snowfall is constant, enveloping streams, springs, roads, mountains, everything. I raise my head to look at the sky, soon my eyelashes are covered with snow. As I wipe my eyes, my driver states: “Sahib, Pakistan ends here, let’s go back home.”

He turns our jeep around, and I say to him: “Sharif, Pakistan doesn’t end, it begins here.” On my right hand, there is a sign which reads “Welcome to Pakistan.”

Khunjerab Border Crossing.



Syed Mehdi Bukhari is a Network Engineer by profession, and a traveler, poet, photographer and writer by passion.

 

[ghazi52]

Thanks for sharing. ..

 

[[Bregs]]

nice pics, thanks for sharing

 

[DESERT FIGHTER]

Gojal: Where Pakistan begins

Syed Mehdi Bukhari

It’s the second week of November. There is a tremendous silence around me; snowflakes fall gently from the sky. The day is so white — there’s no color in sight save for my red jeep and gray jacket, all other colors have become invisible under the thick snow.

There is neither a military check post, nor any signs of civilian settlement here. This is the Pak-China border, and I am standing at the Khunjerab Pass, with my face towards Pakistan’s brother, China.

View attachment 229940
Attabad Lake Crossing.

As the boat is fully loaded, the sailor lifts the anchor. You couldn’t hear the person next to you in the terrible noise of engine, so everyone is involved in himself. The journey is 45 minutes long. As the boat makes a sharp turn, I see Passu Cones, a series of mountains pointed as nails.

Strong winds rock the boat, my heart easily skips a couple of beats. The sailor observing my face, smiles. I look past him at the Passu Cones, just to not feel the fear, I tell myself. The boat finally reaches the bank, and everyone gets off. The sailors are mostly Pakhtuns, who have come here to earn a living. I had a brief exchange with the sailor. He happened to have sailed in the Kabul River once, now the Attabad Lake is his second home.

I have reached the Hussaini Village. In the bright sunlight, the Passu Cones are bathed in gold.

View attachment 229941
Gulmit Village and Passu Cones.

View attachment 229942
Gulmit Village.

This entire area is called Upper Hunza or Gojal. The Gojal Valley borders China and Afghanistan, with its border meeting the Chinese border at Khunjerab — 15,397 feet above sea level — and remains covered with snow all year long.

In the north west, there is Chiporsun, whose border touches the Wakhan region of Afghanistan. Wakhan is about six square miles in area, after which starts Tajikistan. The Karakoram Highway which connects Pakistan to China also passes through Gojal Valley and enters China at Khunjerab.

View attachment 229944
Karakoram Highway in Gojal.

As I exit the Hussaini Village, I see children crowding the road. Golden hair, blue eyes, and faces so red they could outshine apricots! Riding along the river, I reach Gulmit, Gojal’s most populated village.

It is autumn, and it feels as if the entire village is asleep in the cool afternoon. The blowing wind frees the leaves from trees, and this is the only sound I can hear.

The Passu Cones were in sight constantly. The fields have been harvested, and the farmers are resting in their homes. I pass by a few elderly women, wearing traditional caps, followed by naughty little children. In return to my salutations, I receive countless prayers. When my jeep moved forward, I could see the children waving in my rear view mirror.

View attachment 229945
A child at Hussaini.
View attachment 229946
A child at Hussaini.

Just one kilometer ahead, the Borith Lake appears. There is an old hotel at the bank of the lake, the taste of its food still fresh in my memory. The bank had tall grass; in the backdrop, there stand snow-covered mountains, and their reflection would cast a spectacular white in the murky water. Four waterhens lazily float on surface.

The lake is coloured black, and I feel joyous at the sight of these swamp chickens. But as Mustansar Hussain Tarar says, “What do four waterhens have to do with happiness?”. Happiness comes from somewhere inside. At some point in the past, the lake was home to waterlife and migrating birds, but now the level is reducing and the lake is gradually drying up.

The gang of waterhens flies and vanishes somewhere far away in the mountains. Happiness has nothing to do with them, but I sense my own fled with them. An elderly man came out of the hotel, welcomed me, and said: “Terrorism has badly affected tourism. Not many people visit such faraway lands now. Once in a blue moon there’s a random traveler, who becomes the source of my bread. You must click some nice photographs and show them to the world so that tourism once again gains momentum. Come, I will feed you some great meals.” His sweet bribe made me teary as I smiled at him in response.

A Danish girl approaches me and we start conversing — she is a doctorate student who is doing a thesis on climate changes in the Karakoram Mountain Rrange. She told me that she liked the lake so much, that she had been staying here at the Borith Lake for the past three months.

Then she asked me if I had ever seen the lake on a full moon night. I responded negatively. She insisted, “you won’t that photograph anywhere else.”

My driver and I eat, while she talks. When I am finally about to leave, she says, “Your country is beautiful, do go to the Batura Glacier if you happen to visit the Passu Village, I have seen swans gathering on the white snow of the glacier.”

View attachment 229947
The Glacial Lake of Batura Glacier Passu.

Sometimes when I go back home and pass through the barren mountains of balochistan.... I ge tears in my eyes ...

Our country is indeed beautiful but today it bleeds.

 

[Palwasha Furqan]

Love these pictures

 

[Umair Nawaz]

Love these pictures

Palwasha Furqan= Palwasha four kan.

 

[Waseem.Khan]

Lovely pictures thanks for sharing it