Stories from the other side.
It’s never easy saying goodbye. After an eventful 6 days in the mountains, it was time for us to head back home. The trip from Dalhousie to Gaggal Airport (Kangra) would clock 3 hours. I dreaded having to traverse the winding mountain roads again. Our driver was the same young guy who had driven us to…
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Dear Yang, You’re not one to count and I’m not one to remember, but since we’re at it, it’s been some roller coaster ride. What started as a walk back home, has continued along myriad roads, in some of the most interesting places – we could’ve ever been. By ensuring, I didn’t lose my breath at…
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I woke up to the barking of a stray dog. I could see the moon – still shining brightly – on a clear starless sky. But, nothing beats the anticipation of waiting for the sun to rise – outside your balcony window. The dog had already done the damage. So, I waited patiently for an hour. Basil…
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After spending three days in McLeod Ganj, we realised, that we’d planned the next leg of the trip to the neighbouring hill town of Dalhousie. It’s a three hour journey between the two mountain towns and involves making a shift between the Kangra District and Chamba District. If you’re brave enough, HPTDC buses might prove to be a budget…
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From an early age, I’ve found the premise of faith to be intriguing. There seemed to be a strong emphasis on believing blindly in a singular ‘force’. One that could control inter-planetary/galactic motion, and in turn – our ephemeral human lives. Questions were allowed – outside the realm – of what was to be believed; never within. In…
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We started the day huffing up the steep winding slope. After breakfast, we headed towards Temple Complex. Plastered on the wall opposite, were posters of the Tibetan uprising and the resistance movement. It’s not the best way to start the morning. Disturbing images of tortured or missing Tibetans dominated the posters. Understandably, no effort was spared in hiding the…
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We were born in the plains and have lived there for as long as we can remember. At best, we’d see the waves of the Arabian Sea crashing on stony rocks with rolling hills watching over. Perhaps, that’s why, the mountains have always been a mystery to us. Towering, snowcapped, and eerily silent; they seem…
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