His friends remember him for uncompromising discipline and work ethic. In the winter months of December-January when he would stay in Gulmarg, Arif Khan would be up at 5:30 am and hit the slopes at 7 am.
Apharwat peak that towers over Gulmarg at 4390 metres would be his choicest conquest, giving him a smooth, free passage to hone his skills.
Overlooking Pir Panjal range on one side and Line of Control on the other, Apharwat, like all of Gulmarg, is blessed with fine powder snow.
It is also prone to avalanches, making skiing a high-risk, high-adventure pursuit. A 200-250 metre icy stretch, referred to as ‘Chairlift Slope’ by locals because old-fashioned chair lifts ferry skiers and tourists there, is Arif’s preferred workplace.
The naturally hard and icy surface provides the closest replication of the FIS-approved slopes on which international competitions are held.
Almost everyone in Gulmarg has an story on the 31-year-old Arif, each anecdote painting the picture of a selfless young man chasing his dreams. Coach to Yasir, mentor to Junaid, elder brother to Tajjamul. They are among the lives Arif has touched.
They remember him as someone who would help an elder pull his sleigh, teach young boys the virtues to live by, climb mountains for fun, and do hours of elevation running to build his leg and lung strength.
“He belongs to all of us. If Kashmir is paradise, Gulmarg is its taj. And Arif is the crown jewel of the taj,” says Farhat Naik, a local snowboarder and instructor. For over three months now, Naik, 31, has been the de facto mediator for anyone trying to know about Arif, his best friend for over 20 years.
Naik’s bond with Arif dates back to their years at Higher Secondary School in Tangmarg’s Chandilora village, where they played cricket and did tuitions together. “Arif was always a very cultured guy. He was also a very good wicketkeeper too and was fond of cycling,” says Naik.
Arif’s frequent foreign trips—he has been going overseas for competitions since his early teens — exposed him to myriad cultures. “Shortly after he had made it to the national junior team, he had gone to China, and upon returning, he would say, ‘if people in China can throw rubbish in the dustbin, why can’t we?’”
Another off-shoot of Arif’s early visits to the West was the development of an uncanny American accent, drawing guffaw and endless leg-pulling from classmates and siblings. “We used to tease him a lot, saying you have forgotten to speak Kashmiri,” says Rifat, his younger sister.
Managing skiing and school was not easy and after Arif missed his Class 12 exams due to an overseas competition, Yasin Khan decided that his son must focus on sports alone.
Naik remembers visiting a coffee shop in Srinagar with Arif a few years back, and the two got talking with a group of MBAs on local politics. “Those MBAs later asked him which university did he study from. When told Arif is just 11th pass, they couldn’t believe it,” he says.
“Arif likes to explore different cultures, and travel has been his biggest educator. He really loves Switzerland, but says there’s nothing like Kashmir,” says Rifat.
A dietician by training, the 30-year-old is closest to Arif among his three siblings — he also has an elder sister and a younger brother, a budding snowboarder. “He is really fond of local bakery, and we have to hide cookies and cakes from him whenever he is home. Jokes apart, he really watches his diet. I don’t recall when he last had a proper wazwan.”
Years rolled by and Arif’s fledgling career took flight taking him from Iran, Lebanon, Kazakhstan to Switzerland, New Zealand, and Turkey. Rubbing shoulders with the finest coaches and athletes, he would return wiser each time.
“Arif bhai has no qualms sharing his expertise with youngsters. Whenever he is here, we swarm him like eager kids, waiting for priceless tips,” says Tajammul Dar, an upcoming snowboarder.
Last year, Arif noticed Dar’s balance on the board was not ideal. “He casually told me to use my legs better and crouch more, and my balance was suddenly better. I went on to win a silver medal at junior nationals, thanks to his inputs,” said the 21-year-old, a five-time medallist at state Winter Games.
Early promise
Sitting in his tiny attic above the ski rental shop that he set up in 1990, Yasin, chacha or Khan saab to many, reclines smoking a hookah. Yasin is a frail man with alive, knowing eyes and flush cheeks. It is hard to find him without his golf cap and chest of stories.
The fire from the pinewood quells the -5 degrees chill at 2650 metres above sea level, comforting the 67-year-old as he rewinds his life. Call it the effect of tobacco —“it is seriously good here”—or the storm building outside, the gregarious old man oscillates between complex politics of the region and jaw-dropping travel tales.
The larger context of a Kashmiri representing India at an event marred with rabid politicking — India is one of the countries to diplomatically boycott the Beijing Games —is not lost on him either.
“A Kashmiri carrying an Indian flag in China with Pakistani and Chinese delegates in attendance. Can there ever be a stronger statement of our allegiance to India? I hope Arif’s achievements stop people from questioning our patriotism,” he says.
Twenty-seven years ago when Yasin first fitted Arif’s tiny legs in a ski, he knew his son may be special. “Just the way he moved on the snow, it was so natural. His feet movement, body balancing, focus, everything was too good for his age. He was the youngest skier in Gulmarg as kids here usually begin when they are 7-8. I knew I had to let him go.”
Arif’s coach at Austria Racing Camps in Innsbruck, Stefan Zlatrev swears by his ward’s commitment. “He is a calm, respectful guy. Skiing is an aggressive sport that requires precise and quick physical movements.
You can’t do that unless you are calm and focussed. I have rarely come across a more committed athlete,” says the 31-year-old who is into his 10th year of professional coaching.
To an untrained eye, nothing much separates Slalom and Giant Slalom (GS)—the two alpine skiing events where Arif will be competing in Beijing, beginning with the GS on Sunday —but both disciplines offer varying challenges.
“Slalom entails shorter skis (165 cms) and shorter distance between the gates, while GS is usually done on 191cm skis. The distance between the gates in GS is more, which offers longer turns.
In slalom, you ski mainly from legs; in GS, which is speedier, you have to engage the upper body as well to give you stability,” explains Zlatrev, who was part of Bulgaria’s national age-group teams between 2000 to 2007.