Nomadic Hymnal

Streetlights appear unusually faint through my window; I really should have slept better last night. Wake up! shouts someone from a distance, but I am too exhausted to shout back. My eyes half shut, scattering all light that reaches my pupil, cant perceive which part of the town I am in, a vague sense of time tells me I should be home soon, since I have been traveling for a long time. The lights get dimmer, falling now on nothing else but the road divider, leaving everything else pitch dark. I am breathing too loud, disturbing the state of tranquility I have found, so I mellow down, getting slower, calmer, until I am perturbed no more by the sound. There are too many in the car; they will drive me to school, so I can drowse off for a while. But,  I am getting really late, its already dark, and the seat next to Bela's would already be taken, the school perhaps might be over, why don't they just let me sleep instead? I hope the Maths teacher ...

In continuation of: Part 1:  Nomadic Hymnal: Ladhhak: A Godless Pilgrimage Part 2:  Nomadic Hymnal: Leh: Realm of the Indus An hour from Leh, the Magnetic hill stood establishing literally, what in  metaphoric sense Leh has always been—magnetic. With engines off, our motorcycles moved uphill at 45 kmph, defying gravity, surrendering to the rebellious hill in its silent mutiny against the earth's force. Once released from the magnetic field, switching loyalities again, the bikes ran on horse power, occasionally speeding on the surprisingly well-maintained NH1. Simply Magnetic  The Indus, by now huge enough to command the reverence reserved for a goddess, moved parallel to the road, occasionally crossing it beneath feeble bridges in its haste to reach the Arabian Sea. At one such crossing, I collected a handful of silt and a bottle of water from the river as a memento of the journey. Indus: The Farewell Apart from a few rough patches, the road to...