Nomadic Hymnal: Hindustan-Tibet road: Nowhere to nowhere

Nomadic Hymnal: Hindustan-Tibet road: Nowhere to nowhere: Okay, It happened two years ago. After quitting my job and before finding a new one, I headed towards Spiti . With only my backpack fo...

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Ladhhak: A Godless Pilgrimage

Walking on the air as I was while hurtling past Ambala on my way home, I was already feeling nostalgic about what I had left behind. The ethereal memories of Ladhhak kept me awake, where the not so ethereal skeeters failed during my attempt at a quick nap in Ambala. Before giving up on sleep, I traveled backwards at the speed of thought, trying to backtrack mentally and fool myself into believing that there was more to come. Leaving the Plains: Chandigarh Ten of us committed attendance, five planned, three prepared and took leave from work, and finally just two of us set out for the road trip I've always wanted to be on. Sourabh rode his Avenger 220, he bought 6 months ago for the sole purpos...

Hindustan-Tibet road: Nowhere to nowhere

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 ...

Leh: Realm of the Indus

Continued from " Ladhhak: A Godless Pilgrimage " "First View of the Indus River," said a signboard as we entered Leh, and the river, which gave India its name, moved with skill and poise through an intricate arrangement of brown, green, and white. Meandering through the primordial mountains, the river had once nurtured the fields of the Harappans - the builders of the best planned cities on earth in their times. A witness to the rise and fall of those cities, the Indus glistened in the sun, as if smiling in condescension at the futility of the mankind's attempts to decipher cryptic ancient texts, for of them, she had always known but never revealed. Nurturing Civilizations: The Mighty Indus My hymn to the mighty Indus: ...

Nomadic Hymnal

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