I write, as the last bidi finds it’s way into the ashtray. I write this at 04.30 in the morning.
Writing, because the backpack resting at the corner of my room, stares at me, with a little dust settled on the un-promised adventures.
Next to it lies a pair of trekking boots, yearning to go out there.
Aching of restfulness, lies a rugged camouflage jacket on the chair.
Next to the chair is a table full of maps.
Maps of hamlets and towns, sleeping at the moment.
Thus, sweet sleeps the travel journal, dreaming of the blank pages to be bloomed by the awaited adventures.
So, wakes up the wandering soul!
P.S : This is dedicated to all you travellers out there, aching of wanderlust! To all the mountain beasts caught in the concrete jungle. I love you all, I really do! And soon, we shall all embark on a new adventure! Until then, I know my pep talk doesn’t help much!
This is about the euphoria of exploring a realm surrounded by the revered peaks of Nanda Devi, Chaukhamba, Panch Chuli, Mana and Kamet.
This story is about, the dreamland called Auli bugyal!
Here’s what happened:
Windows rolled down. involuntary, I craned my neck out like a happy dog. We were about to reach Rishikesh. When about Uttarakhand, Rishikesh always announces the beginning of an adventure.
Auli was sleeping when we reached, late at night. Heavy breathed, we climbed 56 stairs to get to our room in the GMVN guesthouse. Such a labyrinth!
If you are there:
– Ignore the caretaker, wearing a strange monkey cap
Auli rained its way through the morning, slowly and calmly. It wasn’t a rebellious one, it was one of those rains that sweeps all the sorrows away. Stepping an octave down this philosophical tone, it was raining cats and dogs, plain and simple!
It washed away all my time-lapse dreams, at once.
But as a photographer you are a, stubborn soul! You lurk in the ambush like Satan, waiting for Eve to step in the garden. It did and how…
I am an honest “John Snow” when it comes to monasteries, Bhuddhism, rather any “ism”! But I intimately cherish the calm they resonate. I usually never plan, but happen to cross paths with “God”, sometimes.
This time around when Chaddha ji and gang, were retreating from Nubra Valley to Leh, there was another chance meeting, fated, in two and a half hours.
Lopsang, our full swag driver, who meditates almost all winter and works in summer, suggested that we stop at the Diskit monastery. Hey wait, isn’t that interesting, meditating your entire-way-through-winters? Cozy!
That’s when I happen to get this shot:
P.S: I still wont bother about the details of this “ism”. But I am sure Google can help!