Okay, It happened two years ago. After quitting my job and before finding a new one, I headed towards Spiti . With only my backpack for company, what I sought, to be as cliched as possible, was a life changing experience. And the plan was to tread the trails which I earlier could not because of the other cliche, little time. For four days, I cycled and trekked around Kalpa , who rising from her lazy stupor wooed me with all she hid in her bosom, and never revealed until I decided to forego the insurance of the tarred road. It could as well have been me rising from my stupor, as the hermit in me took over, and decided to move on, beyond Kalpa , towards the fairy tale lands of Kaza , K omik , Kibber , and every place that I yearned to be in, every time I was in Ladhhak , and every time I was in Kalpa . Leaving the tar insurance: Kalpa What? Whistle as you walk: Kalpa Hobbiton? Cheeni Gaon Monastery Hermits don't write travelogues, or ma