(Wo)man on the Wander (lust) - Triund - Part III

After seeing the Dhauladhars from the road wondered if i can see these mountains closely.






After talking with the locals i set for a one day trek on the oldest migratory route followed by shepherds of Chamba and Kangra.




My guide came to fetch me the next day morning when i was still in slumber. A packed lunch was arranged. My guide carried water bottles, some biscuits in the sack and i started off after him. In full spirit as we cut the town lanes one ascends to Dharamkot village (2100 metres), panoramic scenes stretch below — layers of hills housing small villages spread in the vast expanse of Kangra Valley. The valley down is very deep and looks amazing. A small village with roof tops of slate look very beautiful.




Its an uphill task. The mountains that we are trekking are covered with towering pines and a magical freshness in it, the same familiar scent that now grips again. Its very silent and peaceful. The silence speaks enormous one can hear the leaves brushing against each other. The trek is very interesting if one has the eye to 'eye' things around.









You can see small strawberry shrubs on the pathway. Small red bulbs look so neat and clean, me cant resists so i just pluck and eat. There's hardly anybody other than shepherds trotting this way. At times the pathway seems so lonely.








A little rest at the nook is very soothing. But the mist is heavy today. The valley suddenly impregnates with heavy mist. The village that was there some time back is nowhere to be seen. From the deeps the mist rises high above to reach the mountain tops and within a wink the stage changes. The pathway also becomes invisible and further to even put the right step becomes difficult. A wrong step and a slip will be straight in the valley deep deep below where we can hardly see the depth of it.









Wild flowers, mushrooms adorn the pathway. Every flower beautiful than the other – no comparison. Vivid colors, vivid formations, every petal cut so uniquely, the stems look so feeble but they dare to hold the flower and overlook the valley and yes they sway. They sprout from where ever they can, they dare to.























The bees on the flowers and leaves are so colorful. They can see the beauty more than what we can see.






The birds fly chirping and their flapping wings are heard so instinctively in the silence of the valley. This is so beautiful. Small waterfalls free falling from massive heights carrying ice cold water quenches our thirst at the right intervals.









The climb gets difficult with 22 steep curves and tough trails. The going gets tougher. My guide has so much patience. He waits for me, allows me to rest and at times rests with me. One rarely finds Indians trekking here, on this 18kms stretch i met 5 foreigners from different continents and it just needed a smile to cheer each one of us to reach the top.





Your mind is fully focused on the heights while your body is busy using all its power to pull along your tired legs. On the way as you take rest, sitting on a rocky stone, and look below the human habitation, the worldly ambitions and cities’ rat race seems so far away. Meanwhile, you continue to rough it out through a grueling course — walking on stony trails, yellow-brown fallen-leaf paths or jumping over an occasional fallen tree trunk. A lonely shepherd along with his flock sits on the pasture and i envy him. Its a trek where we tread four massive mountains one after the other. When you look back one is surprised to see how much we have trekked. .




And Alas!!!! We are on a roof top and its Triund (2975 metres) the sheer magnificence takes you unawares. Pastures spread out in lengths. Nature has been kind to spread this green carpet so far and wide. Mist was dense and i could'nt take any pictures. My guide spread a mat on the grass and i nursed my tired legs. It has started to drizzle and my guide gives me a big umbrella with a nice packed lunch. I am so tired and hungry that i hardly know what i was having.

As i rest here i see the next mountain Illaqa – the snow line (3350 meters). My next destination is decided, i sit there for long gazing at that mountain, this time not on my computer screen but in real and tell the mountain 'Boy me coming soon.'

(Wo)man on the Wander (lust) - Mystic land Part -II

I have A sprint in my legs as i touch this mystic land. I am on the Temple road and my feet lead me to through the narrow lanes as i ask for an address.

I have left Pune for a journey with a secret desire in my mind. A desire to meet His Highness the Dalai Lama. My home work was done and i knew he would be there when i reach Dharamshala. Hurriedly i ask for his abode and understand that he stays in a temple very near from where i am at the moment.


Tsuglag Khang is the official residence of His Highness. As i walk further one sees many foreigners near the temple. All having some sort of batches in their neck. I try to read them – some wear Korea, some Japan, some Germany, some UK, some Spain etc. Each one talking their own language but all in unison with each other. Their facial features, their color, their stature, the texture of their hair all so different, yet their body language was the same and they all jelled so well. What kept all these diversities together, i wonder?? They all had come for HH Dalai Lama's discourse here in Dharamshala.

Me not a follower of any Buddhist sect, but HH holds a special place in my heart for no reason at all. You can ask anybody on the streets about the where abouts of HH and they are more than happy to lead us the right way. I have become more impatient to see HH so ask a Tibetan passer by 'where is HH Dalai Lama??' He answers in a heavy Tibetan accent ......'Abhi abhi chale gaye' (he has just now left) – his words left me dumb and i was lost for sometime...... the sprint vanished from my feet. I sat there in front of HH chair, thinking he was here some time back and i missed it.... i just felt lost for some time. The place had an intense aura of peace, i felt a soothing effect on me. We went around the temple and seeing the grandeur of the place i surely forgot that i was sad for sometime. The temple looks very very ordinary from the exteriors but it has a grand interior. The statues that stand there are immensely beautiful. They are painted with gold and the expressions are so real.









The monks sit with their pray wheels and chant something. Big pray wheels are a major attraction for travellers like me and it requires so much effort to spin them. I sat there for some more time and left the place surely with a promise of coming again soon.





The day is half past and i was not feeling tired. Had one more thing in mind, of going to the baby home in the Children Village. After address hunting and going down the valley near the lake reached the baby home. We were simply welcomed by them, nothing was planned. They were the ones who were right there when we entered. They were these tiny kids for whom we had come all the way.Right from the age group of one- and- a- half to four years. They all flashed a million smiles when i asked them for a picture. They all were so neatly dressed, bright colors adorned them. Their boots were so neat and colorful!!! They were very cute. They looked like fresh lilies of all colors deep inside the valley, wondered how could their parents abandon them??? We didn't follow a word of what they said nor did they follow of what we said but as its rightly said "SMILE and LOVE knows 'no' language. "




After spending hours with them and just gesturing we clicked. It was difficult parting from them but ..... We left the place as we had to walk the valley back before dark.


The walk was beautiful. Eating green juicy apples on the way we went down the valley with ease. The innocent baby faces and their grip when they held us refused to leave us though we were quiet far from them now. The valley was full of greens. All the flora lived so happily together. It was a sight of perfect symbiosis. It was 'live and let live.'




Some trees helped the weaker ones with support with their branches without dominating the weaker one, the trunk of bigger trees helped the creepers to climb as if a child playing with an elder fondly. Everything around is so unconditional here...The tree tops reaching the clouds, their branches open so wide, the dense shade the trees bestow, ferns growing on the bark of the pine, the brook bubbling its own way all so carefree yet caring for all around, none trying to belittle the other, winners ALL in true sense........far far from the rat race that we see in the city.




The place moves so slowly in its own pace, nobody is in a mad rush to reach the finishing line...after loving the west coast and the sea for so long i have started loving these mountains ..... nestled far and far away where the mountain tops romance the clouds and the mist engulfs them in a moment ...... 'Dhoond bahut hai madam' ( the mist is dense, madam) my guide says. I trot my way through it with my hands in my pocket.




I am loving this word 'Dhoond' and me in my own ' Dhoond of thoughts' reach my so called abode that i have made here. As i open the door of the gallery of my room the dhoond enters inside......'is it a dream???' i ask myself. If 'Yes' i just want to bask in it......and so i do.......

(Wo) man on the Wander (lust) – The Journey Part I

(Wo) man on the Wander (lust) – The Journey

They say you need a calling if you want to go to the mountains.

And what if they are the world’s tallest mountains – The Himalayas.

Years together I have pacified myself with pictures in the magazine and my virtual traveling just to get the feel of it. Until a Yeti (??) from the mountains granted my wish, so say I. ‘Yeti’ because I really cant imagine a delicate fairy nestled in the rustic mountains.

With immense thought storming with myself my inner compass directs me to Himachal Pradesh. I sow this thought in my friends mind and she readily agrees. A quick flight to Delhi where I catch upon her and we start for our further journey. A delicious lunch with a big glass of butter -milk as lunch was only needed to proceed further via Chandigarh and Nahan for a night halt. Though Nahan is at the footsteps of Himachal Pradesh, we still got a long way to go.




Next day the gears are shifted for the climb higher. Saddling a local Himachali as a guide we proceed. The place where we trying to reach beckons for years for known and unknown reason.


The road is serpentine endlessly and the river flows in the opposite direction to where we are heading. Huge massive mountains are carved as roads on one side and the other side a deep valley with this river flowing endlessly. The river is so restless and is continuously bubbling and times blushing in a mad rush. She has a trait in her and changes names as she passes different places. At times she calls herself the Yamuna, at times the Satlej, at times the Ravi, at times the Chenab or at times the Chandrabhaga. It’s her mood I suppose…but at the same time she does not change her identity. She faces the treacherous mountains, the rugged terrain, the plains, the rocks that try to stop her path – she hardly dithers – she just flows in her stride urges herself up every steep slope she encounters, gracefully!!!. (Wo) man I say you got guts!!!











The road is endless and picturesque. As our car climbs the altitude we see fog in the valley. It’s so carefree…. it’s got the whole valley to go wherever it wants to. For a moment its there and the next moment its not to be seen. Mountains are lined one after another the near ones look darkest, then the next darker, then dark, then fadest, then fader and then fade till blur, then only the outline, but they all there standing so majestically.







My guide whispers these ranges are the Dhauladhars. 'Ah the Dhauladhars' I murmur. Never thought i could see them, i feel elated. As I open the window a freshness in the atmosphere prevails and an aroma / a sweet scent grips you. I take deeper breathes with closed eyes to understand it better. “It’s the sweet smell of the pine trees,” says my guide again. Pines stretched far and wide on the Dhauladhars, the deodars lined up in an un- uniformed manner, the foliage on the mountains thickens as one tries to looks deeper in the valley. The moss on the branches lazily drape themselves in kith and kin of the forest. A spring seems to find its way and rushes down the valley, it surely has 'that spring' in it.












In this wilderness you see colourful prayer flags tied from one end to another between the valley. They look so amazing....flags of all colors amidst the wilderness......and i am liking the every bit of it!!!



I can't get my sight out of this wilderness and don't want to miss even the slightest frame that i capture. The road is lonely and seems to travels alone. Amidst the backdrop of the greens you suddenly see serenely walking monk in his royal maroons. 'How can one walk alone in this wilderness?' i wonder??? But he looks so calm and unaffected of anything happening around him. His head low, with an umbrella that supports him while walking. I see more of them some alone, some together in a group of three....The maroons look so vibrant that i could not stop looking at them..but they are in there own world chanting their prayers with beads in there hands.






With so many thoughts in my mind and a childlike leap in my heart (that i am liking this place) i leave the car at crossroads to walk the narrow streets of Upper Dharamshala.



to be continued.......