Srinagar, Nov. 3 -- Some memories never leave. They wait in the air like the first call to prayer before dawn, in the scent of burning oil lamps, or in the steady hum of a scooter on a Kashmiri winter morning.

Every 11th day of the Islamic month, Gyarhvi Sharif, carries that sound and fragrance for me. It brings back the pulse of my father's faith and the innocence of my own beginnings.

My father, Syed Iftikhar Gilani, believed that faith should travel, through streets, lives, and generations. Best vacation packages

On those mornings, he would polish his silver-grey Vijay Super Lambretta until it gleamed. I would climb up in front of him, my hands gripping the handle, as he kicked the engine to life.

The sound filled our lane, risin...