In the mountains

Travelling to new places gives that kind of pleasure that makes you want to go after it again and again. It’s always my idea of an ideal break- a perfect hit refresh button. It had been quite a long time since we had travelled to any far off destination- something that the wanderlust inside me truly missed. And so finally in the month of May 2022, we headed towards the much coveted destination for a mountain lover- Himachal Pradesh. 

    We arrived in Chandigarh and visited the famous Rock Garden and Pinjore Garden. Then we proceeded to the queen of hills, Shimla. There was a drastic change in the scenery from the bustling city of Chandigarh to the tranquil hills and the difference in the flora and fauna was unmistakable.

     The town of Shimla is unique in many aspects. The Mall Road is a favourite place for tourists from afar. Next day we had an adrenaline-rushing experience at the adventure park in Kufri. As the sun set, we feasted our eyes on the night city of Shimla, something which literally personified a sequined shawl.

 But the highlight of the entire trip was the town of Manali – the most sought after place of Himachal and one of the places that had been on my travel bucket list for quite some time. The journey to Manali was something that I look back upon as a long one full of laughter, photos and songs. It was dusk when we reached, and hence the town of old Manali was alit with market lights shimmering like diamonds. Our hotel too was situated in old Manali and it was just a perfect welcome to us after a long journey. The woody interior, perfectly manicured roses of every shade, and the warmth of the pahadi people was something that gave the place an alluring vibe. 

    The next day began even before cock-crow as we headed towards Rohtang Pass- a few hours from Manali. As the sun rose, I fully became aware of the scenery that surrounded me. The tops of the Himalayas were gently kissed by the early morning sun, as the pure rays spread a gleam of fiery orange on the opaline white snow. It was a dream to wake up to this view, to this enthralling spectacle that has been captured and etched firmly in my mind. The road to Rohtang pass was an ethereal one. With green sloping conifers on one side and the Himalayas towering in their majesty on the other, we ventured further, staring agog at the unparalleled wilderness surrounding us. 

    Many times it is the ride from one place to another that gives you something to think about. It’s a relaxing experience to endlessly admire the world from your window, contemplate about the things that you like and enjoy the sudden burst of phrases describing the sight that just pop into your mind as the car turns from one bend to another. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect and as we gained altitude, the road bore noticeable signs of fresh, untouched snow. Looking down at the hairpin bend roads from atop made me realize the height at which we were and the terrain through which we had just traversed. The mountains which we had looked at from below had become our next-door neighbours. Looking at the snow on them suddenly gave me the mad desire to squeal with joy, like a small girl, excited at the sight of snow. Once we were above 10,000 feet, the layers of jackets and snow gear wrapping me had a definite increase. Climbing yet above, we reached Rohtang pass at an altitude of approximately 14,000 feet above the sea level. The pass was glittering white from the recent snowfall that had taken place at dawn and this was the moment that made it worth getting up at 4 am that day. There were ranges and ranges of snowy mountains everywhere one’s eyes could travel and standing amidst them gave me the goosebumps and the familiar feeling of pinch-me-I-don’t-think-that-I-am-on-Earth. Sitting there made me realise the gravity of the oblivion in which we actually live. I became aware, more than ever, of the fact that we are just tiny bits of a vast puzzle. It felt so good to be a part of this stunning creation and a sense of happiness washed over me.

After playing in the snow to our heart’s content and clicking away some million photos, we finally headed back to our bus. We crossed the Rohtang pass descended down and from the recently built Atal tunnel returned back to Manali. We also took the ropeway ride at Solang valley which was a mesmerizing experience of seeing the snow-clad glaciers from above. After this, we returned back to our hotel and called it a day. The next two days passed in a flurry, visiting local places of Manali. And before we knew, it was time to say goodbye. We returned to Chandigarh from where we boarded the flight to Pune. As the plane took off, I watched the city of Chandigarh below, recollecting all the amazing moments that had made our trip one of the best experiences ever had.

And now, after having read this, you might have a vaguely formed yet picturesque image of the Himalayas hovering in your mind’s eye. Trust me, the Himalayas are a gift to India, a place that compels each one to introspect on the varied opportunities life has to offer as well as get away from the busy city life whenever one needs a break. To me, the Himalayas are not just a range of mountains, but a plethora of emotions that propel me to stay grounded and stand tall. I literally feel that they withhold something magical, a force that cannot be put into words but can surely be felt from within. The call of the Himalayas is such that it’s hard to ignore. And once you have answerred the call, they make sure to call you again. And hence we raise a toast to this heaven of travellers, to the beautiful state of Himachal Pradesh, tucked peacefully in one of the mightiest mountains of the world. 

~Mugdha Deshpande

Enclosing some photos we clicked!

Chaha

Through this short story, I’ve tried to depict the life of a typical Indian working Mother and how she gets on with her busy day. This time, I’ve used a different style of writing- like the one I noticed while reading books written by authors whose writings portray Indian culture. You will find code mixing, that is the use of words in a different language to enhance the content. Read on!

She was woken up by the much too familiar call of the alarm clock. 6 am. Long before I woke up. The start of another day. How she craved to roll over for another snooze! Reminding herself that there were still four days left for the weekend, she got up. She smiled as she recalled how she had dozed off the moment her head had hit the pillow the previous night. Fresh and having had a good night’s sleep, she was charged up again.

Getting up, she did her usual morning chores, collected the milk and the newspaper and turned on the gas to make some chaha. As the milk boiled over the flame, she strolled out into the gallery to examine her garden, something that she enjoyed thoroughly. That was when I trudged sleepily into the gallery. As I looked at her, I saw that her face reflected the tenderness of her heart as she gently caressed the blooming roses. 

Her cup of chaha marked the start of her day. She then bustled about in the kitchen chopping veggies and setting up things. She was busy making breakfast when she realized that it was 8 am already. A soft groan escaped her as she dashed about the house, looking for her headphones and mobile. Then she logged in to Zoom and joined the meeting she was supposed to attend. 

No doubt she was an excellent multi tasker and as the veggies boiled in the kadhai, I heard her telling her team about some new project they had received recently. 

Breakfast was a quick thing for her with not much time at hand. By 10 am, she had completed her chores, made a delicious meal, had finished her bath and was dressed up in an ethnic cotton kurti, ready for work. 

‘The traffic seems as bad as yesterday,’ she thought as she steered her car on the road. But as she turned on the radio, all her thoughts vanished as she began enjoying the music on her favourite Radio Mirchi station. 

At work, it was a different story. Her day was lined up with meetings, client presentations, sync ups, and reports. She literally bolted down her lunch and didn’t even stop to think about how her new masala had enhanced the flavour of the bhaji she had cooked. As the day drew to a close, she packed her laptop and headed home. Trying to be patient with the evening traffic, she thought longingly of the cup of chaha that awaited her.

Once she was home, she microwaved her chaha to make it piping hot, just the way she liked. And grabbing her favourite Parle G biscuit, settled herself in an armchair in the gallery. When I returned home, I saw her sitting in the gallery.

She was so content and was blissfully enjoying her chaha. Birds twittered and the sun painted the sky with its crimson hues. This was the rare time she spent with herself and all of us made sure that she wasnt disturbed then. As I watched her, I wondered when I would be able to do so many things without getting tired. I wondered how come she never complained and worked really hard every single day. I recalled how she enjoyed doing little tasks and found immense happiness in small mundane things . ‘Maybe that is her fuel,’ I thought. 

They say that queens live in palaces and superwomen are found only in movies. They also say that role models are always big, famous people. Truth be told, I can’t disagree more.  

~Mugdha Deshpande 

Words.

Sometimes, you stumble upon a bunch of words and they somehow hit you differently. You feel an inexpressible rush of emotion because those words mean something different to you just because you can perfectly relate them to your life.  It’s like you find solace in those words, it’s like some long lost friend has finally returned. To others, those may be simple but to you, they have a meaning that no one, not even you can explain.
Isn’t this so beautiful? It’s like some thread that binds together minds of people through words. As it is said, words are definitely the most inexhaustible source of magic.
I often ponder upon the fact that how can a few short sentences have the power to influence your thinking process.  Its just that you feel so nice when you realise that people have similar thoughts, similar emotions. Maybe that is what connects the dots among people and maybe that is what makes the world a well knit fabric intertwined with different people.
When someone writes something, it does not belong to the author alone. It belongs more than anyone else to the readers who experience that it has somehow struck a chord with them. An invisible connection is created between millions of minds as the reader embarks upon the journey to venture through the inner heart of hearts of the author. I mean, daffodils were never given much attention before a poet like Wordsworth looked at them.
This speaks of the power which words possess. And at the end of the day, this is what you call wording the feeling.
~Mugdha Deshpande