Travel | A Visit To Kangra

LIFE OF A MOUNTAIN

Travel Photography photostory India adventure Poetry

End to a lonely night at home in Mumbai.

Sometimes it takes a very dark episode in life to finally slow down and get to know yourself better so that you never return to the bottom.

I close my eyes and relive a recent dream. Lying on a cold grey boulder in a breezy field, I see a narrow wooden bridge above the effervescent river nearby. The path vanishes into a deep pine forest. Mountains surround me, the clear blue sky helps me gather enough courage to open my eyes to reality.

I packed up for Himachal Pradesh and reminded myself that I don't really need a return ticket. Dharamshala was tugging at my heartstrings, screaming out to my soul. I had to be there.

Here's my documented experience which can enrich yours if you do plan to visit. It is a personal narrative sprinkled with a few suggestions. Let me warn you, I'm no fancy traveler. Nor am I a tough backpacker. It's good to find your middle ground in one realm of life!

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Brief Checklist

40L Backpack (Brand: Wildcraft)

Warm Clothes, Shawl, Monkey Cap, Gloves, Woolen Socks, Windcheater

Hiking Shoes (Brand: Quechua | From: Decathlon)

First Aid Kit (Important: Tablets for motion sickness)

Book (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance)

Camera

Notebook, Pen

Pepper spray

Binoculars

Taser

Transportation

(26th December 2016)

Flight from Mumbai to Delhi [2 hrs 10 mins] --->

Train from Old Delhi to Pathankot [10 hrs] --->

Bus from Pathankot to Gaggal [2 hrs 20 mins] --->

Bus from Gaggal to Dharamshala [35 mins]

You get direct flights to Gaggal but I was cutting costs and had enough time. It was an overnight train journey in Dhauladhar Express. I slept with my new shoes tied to the rucksack, wallet tucked deep inside the bag, two layers added to my attire. A man (who seemed to be taking this train often) commented in Hindi, "Always good to be careful with your stuff. Never know who flicks something in the middle of the night." It's important to tough it out sometimes. The 15 minute walk from the station to the bus stop gave me a short glimpse of Pathankot streets. I mostly used buses for the rest of the trip, enjoying the frequency and convenience. Car rentals are available too. So are shared jeeps for certain routes, like from Dharamshala to McLeodganj.

Everything around me is synchronizing. The buses are obliviously following a color scheme. The fresh flowers hanging above the driver's seat are matching perfectly with the windows. People's clothes are merging well with the surroundings. Even the streets are sticking to the palette. Worries are disappearing into thin mountain air, along with the heat and confusion in my head. The sun and cool breeze go hand in hand, like dramatically distinct but devoted lovers. I instinctively rummage for the camera and begin capturing the world around me, storing moments the way I see them.

While doing research, a homestay called The Ballu grabbed my attention, especially because it wasn't desperate for any. It seemed like a quiet, tasteful getaway. There were very few photos, one comprising of their lapcat soaking up some sunlight on a lazy afternoon and another mentioned a part of Wendell Berry's poem:

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

The words touched my aching heart. I knew I'd meet beautiful minds here...and I did.

These two are in a love-hate relationship. On the left is Abhishek Madhukar, a photographer, videographer and journalist from - well, he doesn't know which place to call 'Home' anymore. He is a very helpful, honest, warm and interesting host. On the right is Miss Shimi. Don't be surprised if you find her sleeping on your chest in the middle of the night. It's flattering.

My room upstairs.

Tucked in the outskirts of Dharamshala, this 113 year old home is one of the few structures to have survived an earthquake in the area. Recently renovated, its simplicity and rustic charm will appeal to anyone who prefers a homely environment over hotels. There is a common bamboo bathroom, western and Indian style toilets. The backyard faces North, breaking into ascending wheat fields that finally lead to the snow-clad Dhauladhar ranges. Providing background music is a river flowing adjacent to the property. I planned to visit for the first two days but ended up making it my base, venturing out for new experiences every morning after the mandatory chai and biscuits.

View from the backyard. Climb over that fence and you're in wilderness already.

Sunrise at The Ballu

I usually find it easy to explore a new place with the help of the locals rather than a set itinerary. You do your general research and then make plans as you go along. 35 kms from Dharamshala, Palampur is easily accessible by bus. On reaching, I stopped for some paneer momos near the main square. INR 30 for a half-plate, they're some of the best momos I've had the pleasure to gobble down. A lot of the people suggested Cafe Neugal as a good spot to unwind so I decided to walk to it. What fascinates me the most about Palampur is the abundance of tea gardens! The cafe was almost like any other midst the mountains but the walk to it is one I'll always cherish.

Paneer Momo Goddess

The gate was locked but I got a good glimpse from the outside.

Surreal walk through tea gardens

Masala Chai at Cafe Neugal, Palampur

The sun set by 5:30 PM so I'd head back to my cocoon, light headed from the day's adventure. On some days, I spent time with the Ballu family. They introduced me to beautiful art, music, ideas and a chunk of their lives. Evenings were around the bonfire opposite the glass windowed kitchen, a drink or book in hand. Abhishek cooked an amazing Bhutanese dish with chilli cheese gravy called 'Ema Datshi'. I daydream about it often.

Bench painting time with Miss Jean, the Lepcha Queen

Emi Datshi prep!

Sweetheart Sushma, the amazing architect and cat loving earthling.

Geeta Didi & Anum

Abandoned Tea Factory

Wallflowers?

Locked Inside Ourselves

They're frustrated because I wouldn't leave without fist bumps.

I visited the Dalai Lama Temple in Mcleodganj, sat in various corners, reading or enjoying the symmetry around me.

Sunlight came and went as it pleased, playing with me a game of time and patience.

Where Is Home? [Free Tibet]

You pick?

I had the pleasure of meeting many inspiring humans on the way. Almost all were artists, expressing themselves in unique forms.

by Karma Sichoe, Dharamshala

'Karma, 38, is a Thangka painter and contemporary artist, residing in Dharamshala. Born an orphan-refugee, Karma was raised and educated in Tibetan Children’s Village School, Dharamshala.' - KHOJ

Here's another amazing artist whose work I want to admire in reality: Sonam Yeshi

McLeodganj market divides into Bhagsu and Dharamkot. Bhagsu (at least when I visited) is crowded and the waterfall had no water, but I'm not complaining. The walk to it was nice nonetheless and I ate delicious Italian food in the market.

Walking uphill to Dharamkot.

Recycle The Mind

A secret spot up a stony path.

The need to use that pepper spray or taser never arrived but they made me feel safer wherever I went, building my confidence to explore untrodden territory. With the last set of photographs and a poem I wrote there, I end my escapade in Kangra District, Himachal Pradesh. There is a lot more to share through words and images but I can't keep you much longer. Go out and explore. If you don't have enough money, save up, skip that drunken night, take the cheaper mode of transportation...try your best to make it happen. Nature teaches us more than any school or job ever will.

Home

With my hands covered in pink gloves

I take immense pleasure in writing to you

Remember this, only by will...and then maybe you will

Run away, don't think of returning

Convince your heart

Just leave, know that you can come back

With eyes wide open, a dance in your stride

With your feet all swollen

From a walk in the clouds

It's cold, new, strange but real and for ever

You breathe and live to be wild, to roam

You're a wanderer, you're always home