By Afshan Rashid

The morning mist still floats over Pulwama as the first cars pull into a small farmhouse nestled in the gentle folds of South Kashmir's apple country.

The air smells of dew and fresh hay. Somewhere nearby, a cow calls out. Time feels slower here, softer, as if it moves with the sway of the trees.

Children step out of their cars, rubbing sleep from their eyes. They look at the orchard that stretches before them: rows of apple trees glistening in the golden light.

Within moments, their hesitation gives way to curiosity. They run across the grass, their laughter spilling through the air like birdsong. Parents follow with hesitant smiles, some still carrying the city's hurry in their step.

The farm's name, Bagamanzuk, meaning“garden of joy”, feels true to its spirit. Once, it was simply a family orchard, known for its crisp apples and a sense of calm that only the countryside could offer. Today, it has become a living classroom for children and families, a place where nature is both teacher and companion.

The hosts, a local homesteading family, have reimagined their ancestral land into a space for learning and belonging.

“We wanted children to know what real food looks like, where it grows, and how it tastes,” says one of them, adjusting a wooden ladder against an apple tree.“Our generation knew the smell of soil and the patience of trees. We wanted to pass that on.”

The idea took root slowly, nurtured by people who believed that a farm could be an emotional space than merely an economic zone. That belief brought Dr. Rumana Masudi, founder of Booyn Breeze Kashmir, into the story.

Dr. Masudi, a physician by training, had watched her own child grow up surrounded by screens. She began to wonder what it meant for children to lose touch with the living world.

“Nature is our first teacher,” she says softly, standing by the orchard gate, watching a group of children climb onto a hay cart.“It teaches patience, observation, and empathy, things no classroom can replace.”

Her organization, Booyn Breeze, creates nature immersion programs that allow children to explore freely and learn through play. She believes that a child's connection to nature is essential to mental well-being.

“We're living in a time when attention spans are shrinking and anxiety is growing,” she explains.“When children dig in the soil or chase butterflies, something shifts. Their nervous systems calm down. They begin to see beauty in small things again.”

The collaboration between Booyn Breeze and Bagamanzuk began last year with a simple apple-picking event. It was meant as a one-day retreat. It became a movement.

Since then, the farm has hosted everything from kiwi harvesting and compost-making to kite flying under the blue Pulwama sky. Children learn how to prune a branch, recognize fruit ripeness, and even taste the difference between early and late harvest apples.

Each activity is small and sensory. A child crouches to examine earthworms. Another presses fallen petals into a scrapbook. A father wipes soil off his son's hands, laughing at the mud stains on his kurta.

The air hums with stories of farming, childhoods long gone, and a generation trying to return to something it lost in the rush of modern life.

For Dr. Masudi, this feels more like healing than just a day of fun.

“We have to remind ourselves that mental health is beyond therapy or medication. It's essentially about how connected we feel to the world around us,” she says.“Our workshops are built around that idea.”

The team at Bagamanzuk agrees. Their goal is to make the farm a bridge between the old and the new, and to merge traditional wisdom with modern sustainability.

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