Hitchhiking from Leh to Manali : A Story for the Ages

While I am no stranger to hitchhiking on the Manali-Leh highway; times have seemingly changed a lot in the post-covid era. Or have they? Read on…

The year is 2023. The monsoon months of July and August have brought copious amounts of rain to many parts of Himachal Pradesh and Kullu Valley (where we live). A number of roads have been washed away and connectivity is seriously hampered.

We have returned from a short trip to Kazakhstan in mid-August. There was a family event for which we travelled to Jaipur and were duly back in Delhi on the 20th. There had been another deluge in Kullu region and the roads near Pandoh (Mandi) were badly damaged. Of course, Volvos were only plying till Mandi and there was no clarity thereafter on the status of any of the alternate roads. Acquaintances spoke of 8-10 hour traffic jams as a normal course of life from Mandi to Kullu and we were not prepared to get stuck in a traffic jam as it could be risky with the continuous rain.

We had come back to our home in Dobhi after the torrential downpour in July and the ordeal of changing 4-5 buses from Delhi felt like small trouble compared to the situation at hand. I called the HRTC bus guys and private Volvo operators everyday in the hope of a positive update. It was tricky to keep checking the weather predictions and try to leave from Delhi to Mandi in a Volvo, reach the bus stand at 6 am and hope for the best. The private Delhi to Manali Volvo guys had completely stopped their services while some of them were plying till Mandi.

We were getting restless; especially because of the lack of clothes as we had gone to Kazakhstan on a cabin baggage only flight and had literally nothing to wear! Every other day we would decide to leave the next day and we would get a ‘jahan ho, wahin raho‘ (stay where-ever you are) message from the HRTC guys in Mandi. It was 25th and we were counting days on our fingertips; our time in Delhi at our friends’ home was fun but we really really wanted to get back home to Kullu.

It must have happened by fluke and I don’t even remember how it came about but I saw some notification about an airline sale. A random 1-minute search revealed next-day’s flight from Delhi to Leh at INR 2000 odd and for the moment I disregarded it as a long shot. However, next day when there was no positive news of the Mandi to Kullu road, we decided enough was enough and booked our flights for the next morning.

We were pretty excited about having scored cheap flights for Leh in the green summer season of August and the fact that there were hardly any tourists there. Even though we wanted to get back home to Kullu, it was decided that we would acclimatise in Leh for 4 days and our return was planned for 30th August, which was a holiday for Rakshabandhan. I was poorly packed and did not even have a jacket but since it was summer in Ladakh, I hoped the weather gods would behave!

Read : Durbuk to Merak Village – Winter in Ladakh

It was an early morning flight and we landed in Leh with the spirit of adventure at having booked a last-minute trip! I had been a bit naive to assume that the Leh to Manali bus service was functional and was taken aback with the information after reaching that the bus service had been stopped a while ago. Homestay/hotel/guest houses were all available and this time we pre-booked a guest house because this trip had a different agenda.

We landed in Leh on a cold and cloudy morning and I was thankful that the sun was out as soon as we got out of the airport. The room was cozy and we fell asleep in no time. After waking up past noon, we strolled to the main bazaar in search of food. Leh felt like it used to be in the old days; there were no Indian tourists to be seen – while old timers from across the world were roaming in the streets. It suddenly felt like the best decision; to go back home via Leh!

Since we were not acclimatised, the walk to the market was tiring enough but I could not resist having a stroll near Jama Masjid and checking what the village ladies had for sale since it was their summer and the only farming season in Ladakh! I was in luck since it was apricot time and the tiny orange fruits were flooding the market. Among other things, there are few better things in life than tasting these alluring little beauties and one of the varieties grown in Leh (Raktse Karpo) have also been recently awarded with a GI tag.

It feels nice when your fellow shoppers are old wizened lamas. One of them also mentioned that I must buy the raktse-karpo variety of apricots that has been awarded the GI tag. The prices of apricots have really gone up in the last 10-15 years. I faintly remember that the best quality dried apricots from both the Khaltse and Turtuk (Halman) region used to cost about INR 250-400 per kilo. I was shocked to notice that in the present day the fresh apricots were priced at INR 250 per kilo while the raktse karpo variety was priced at INR 400 per kilo.

It was about 5 in the evening and a cold breeze started blowing. I bought a kilo of the apricots and got excited about seeing one of the village ladies (ama) selling a cute watermelon. It reminded me of Kazakhstan and the watermelons and muskmelons of Central Asia. The whole pavement was filled with fresh produce and I secretly wished to buy everything! Since we had had a late lunch, there was no appetite to go out for dinner again. Also, we were a bit tired and felt it would be best to return to the guest house and call it an early night.

I spotted a foreigner buying carrots and quickly got the idea to carry back a bunch of lettuce leaves and half kilo fresh and juicy carrots. The evening skies as we walked back were incredible and it had really become quite chilly. We were glad that the rooms of the guest house had a traditional wooden roof with poplars. The solar geyser had warmed up the water quite nicely even though the sun wasn’t at its strongest throughout the day.

We gobbled up the carrots like rabbits would do (get the gist!) and the fresh lettuce leaves were really fresh and tasty. A few apricots served as dessert and a good night’s sleep beckoned after a lovely and relaxing hot water bath. Next day onwards, it was business as usual as we felt well acclimatised but still decided to spend our days in Leh with the aim of returning home on 30 August. Since the tourist rush in Leh was confined to long-term foreigners, the Manali and Leh taxi unions were having a tiff about plying the current tourists and the stand-off resulted in an all-too familiar situation of confusion.

This is another part of the adventure of travelling on the Manali-Leh road – the feeling of uncertainty. The HRTC Manali-Leh bus service had been suspended due to the road issues and according to the in-charge officer in Keylong due to the lack of passengers in the bus. I found that surprising because the Manali-Leh bus had always been a favourite with foreign tourists, migrants and locals of Changthang region who travelled in the bus till a certain point.

I enjoyed doing the usual Leh things; even the hitherto touristy stuff like climbing Shanti Stupa for sunset views because there were hardly any tourists. There were everyday walks in the bazaar; finding craftspersons and artisans making pabu (Ladakhi shoes) and thigma (woollen tie and dye) while connecting with all ladies self-help groups who crafted shawls from handspun pashmina. It was nice to visit an old favourite Tenzing Dickey Tibetan restaurant for an early dinner one day, realising it was still the same tiny eatery serving home-made thukpa. We had a great conversation with a travelling Swiss couple over the meal and ended up meeting them numerous times over the next couple of days.

The night skies were a joy to walk back and we were happy to shift our stay to a nearby homestay the next day. I walked from the nanwai gali (lane of bread-bakers near Jama Masjid) and bought every different kind of bread and biscuits that they made. One of the nanwai’s made chochwor (of Kashmir fame, also called telvor) and that was really delightful. We ate our lunches at cafés that served traditional Ladakhi dishes like chutagi, skyu, khambir, drapu, tangthur, paba and the likes and relished the offerings while gawking at the surreal blue skies that invariably had a background view of Leh Palace.

To find the actual status of the shared taxis from Manali to Leh, we head to Bomb Guard area via the local bus that plies to Choglamsar. We gathered that there was no clarity and they were quoting astronomical prices of INR 3500 per person for tempo travellers leaving in the evening, travelling all night and reaching Manali in the morning next day. We were very uncomfortable with this idea of travelling in the night and tried to play smart by taking direct phone numbers of HP-01/K (Kullu) numbered taxi guys. A few drunk taxi drivers tried to play spoilsport and that was our cue to leave.

With zero clarity, we came back to Leh bazaar and opted to ignore the current problem on hand – hoping that as the day of our departure approached; we would get lucky. Two years ago, in 2021 we had returned from Leh to Manali on October 15th and were able to get two shared taxi seats in the middle row of a SUV. I continued on my merry apricot eating spree and we were happily gobbling a kilo every day and saving the kernels to be converted into a chutney back home in Kullu.

Read : Spending the ‘Lockdown’ Summer of 2021 at Yuthok Homestay, Kullu Valley

On the 29th, we decided to spend a relaxed day because in the absence of a fixed plan for our return it was important that we had the physical strength to do anything that the situation demanded. On top of everything, we had small backpacks and a few orders for Indilocal meant extra luggage. We were pleased to have a final parting meal in the evening at the gorgeous Bon Appetit restaurant in the stunning outdoor seating. The weather was crisp and there was a faint feeling of early autumn in the air.

I had called the phone numbers of the HP-01/K guys gathered from the previous day but none of them confirmed any other passengers. One of the guys had two confirmed passengers (which later turned to be false) in a Swift Dzire, but I was not comfortable going in a vehicle with less ground clearance especially after the recent rains. Once we reached our homestay, we packed our bags and paid the amount since we were supposed to go very early.

Our uncertainty reached an unprecedented level as the clock passed 9 pm and it finally dawned on us that we were on our own and that we needed to have a worst-case scenario and actually execute it. To make a last-gasp try, I called one guy whom I had not been able to contact and he told me to anyhow reach the Upshi check-post. He was positive that we are highly likely to be able to hitch a ride at the Upshi Check Post. He also told me that a bridge near Sarchu had become inoperable and the alternate route was a tad risky. Thankfully, I chose to completely ignore the above piece of information.

Keeping the heightened anxiety levels in check, we somehow called it a night and slept with a lingering feeling of helplessness and adventure! At the present moment, the whole idea of coming to Leh started feeling like a failed attempt or we had to be mentally prepared to shell out an exorbitant sum of money; all for the simple act of returning to our home in Kullu. It was a much needed rest in the night as we got up and running before daybreak and were thankful to the homestay guys to bring us a kettle of hot drinking water so early in the morning.

The weather was quite cold and the water for a shower was not yet rendered hot by the solar heater. I was relieved to find the water was lukewarm at best and not bitterly cold. The shower roused me awake and we discussed that since we have not had any phone call from a taxi guy, our only way out is through hitching rides. We were aware that buses in Ladakh plied every morning to different regions in Changthang, Nubra Valley, Kargil region from the LBOC Bus stand. The clock struck 630 and we realised that we were already running late to reach the bus stand which was a sizeable 20 odd minutes away – it felt like a herculean task with our (now) heavy bags.

A prudent and practical decision was taken to keep things simple and take it as one ride at a time and not overthink how we would travel from Leh to Lahaul Valley/Kullu Valley via hitchhiking. Public transport would be available from Jispa / Keylong to Kullu. We figured that getting out of Leh city via a local bus was our best bet of giving the taxi guys roaming around the bus stand a miss. One of the basic rules of hitchhiking is that we rarely ever hitch rides in a city, so must get to the highway. We had a brisk walk with ‘our hearts in our mouths’ moment not knowing about the timing of the bus. I had assumed it was 730 am.

It was 0707 am when we finally made it to the bus stand and there was no bus to be seen. A few touts / taxi drivers asked us Manali-Srinagar and we chose to ignore them. We saw two foreigners rushing in one direction and followed them to enter a bus. The crowd at the bus stand was sparse and that worked to our advantage. Before we could ask the bus conductor where the bus was heading, the foreigners jumped out of the bus saying it was headed to Nubra Valley and that there was another bus for Pangong Tso.

Read : Lessons of Life at Pangong in Winter

We followed the foreigners, partly relieved because they seemed to be certain about a bus to Pangong leaving at this very hour! There it was; another bus half filled with foreign tourists that stood on one side of the bus stand and before entering we asked if this was indeed the bus to Pangong Tso? We told him to drop us in Karu since we were headed to Hemis monastery and were told the seats had been booked and to take the last two seats in the end row of the bus. I was relieved to somehow make it in time as this bus was supposed to leave at 7 am and it was already 715 am. Apparently the bus was waiting for the two foreigners who had pre-booked their tickets but had not yet arrived! Thankfully for us.

The bus engine roared to life as soon as we sat and we felt triumphant at the positive and successful beginning of the day. We heaved a sigh of relief and were elated as the bus crossed the shared taxi stand in the Bomb Guard area. The bus came to an abrupt halt as we reached Choglamsar. A number of Army personnel boarded the bus and extra baggage was hauled to the roof of the bus. Two tourists from South-east Asia were the last two to board. We were astonished (cuz we had no idea about pre-booking) when they produced their tickets to ask us if they were sitting on the right seats. Apparently, they had bought the tickets from the bus stand yesterday and now the bus was jam packed.

The driver (cum conductor) refused entry for further passengers and after a 20 odd minute stop we were on our way to Karu. We counted ourselves as lucky people who had the good fortune to get on the bus before there was no more space. It was a smooth ride thereafter and with no further stops we were dropped in Karu before 9 am. The bus sped after taking a left on the road that led to Pangong Tso. The easy part of our 450 km journey was done and we had covered a meagre 37 kms! Now the difficult part lie in front of us and we crossed the circle in Karu surrounded with dhabas and eateries and stood waiting for a ride on the road to Manali.

We were beginning to feel hungry but dared not step away from the road. Today was going to be a long day and we could not afford to take any chances as there was a possibility of every car giving us a ride. The road was dusty and we kept our bags on a nearby wall and started asking for rides from the passing vehicles. Most of them indicated that they were only going only a few kilometres ahead. We endured a torrid time when an Indian Army truck convoy crossed leaving us in a sea of toxic fumes. After about 30 minutes of no luck with rides, I had started feeling a bit restless.

In my mind, I decided to be a bit more assertive while asking for a ride and jumping on the road as a vehicle neared was my latest plan. A couple of vehicles crossed and still no luck with the new bold method had us nearly rethinking our thought process. We were waiting close to the diversion point in Karu so that vehicles that had slowed down would not pick speed and that gave us a good chance to make our presence felt and hitch a ride. A car arrived like a godsend; I jumped on the road and spotted a Lama in red robes driving the car. At first he indicated with his right hand that he was only going a few kilometres ahead. I made him stop the car and requested to roll down the window.

He said he was only going to Hemis monastery; the diversion for which was hardly 2-3 kms ahead of Karu. We requested him to drop us at the diversion point as we had been waiting in Karu for more than 30 minutes and that today even short rides of 2-3 kms might change our luck. Lama Ji opened the doors and it felt like he also unlocked a lucky charm. We shared our last remaining apricots with him and the kind soul that he was – after hearing our story of trying to hitchhike to Kullu he said that he would drop us all the way to the Upshi check post. We tried reasoning with him but agreed to take the ride because today we needed the help.

Lama Ji mentioned that he was from Skurbuchan village and I shared some memories about a past winter journey in that region. He shared that he was only going to Hemis to show tourists around the monastery but since it was an early hour, it was unlikely that there was someone waiting. The extra distance that Lama Ji had to cover was 10 kms and he told us not to worry as today we really needed the ride and that he would get back to Hemis in hardly 15-20 minutes after dropping us.

We requested him to drop us at the J&K Police Check-Post in Upshi and also make small talk with the police guy to enhance our chances of a ride. The check post in Upshi is located on the Manali-Leh highway after the road bifurcates for Chumathang. For the uninitiated, the two check posts of Darcha in Lahaul and Upshi in Ladakh serve as manned police points where travellers have to compulsorily stop, enter the vehicle details and number of people in the vehicle. What that essentially means is since every vehicle must come to a halt, the chances of a conversation increase leading to massive probability of hitching a long-distance ride.

I had been lucky in the past having hitched a ride from Darcha check post in Lahaul. Hitchhiking in a truck : Stories from Nakee La

Lama Ji dropped us right at the check post and spoke in Ladakhi to the stern looking J&K Police check post officer. We had no words to thank the Lama Ji and were highly obliged and sincerely hoped that the officer would help us. In our preoccupied state of mind, the thought of taking down Lama Ji’s number did not occur to us and we made a mental note to return to Hemis and get a thank you gift next time we were in Ladakh!

We waved goodbye to Lama Ji and briefly narrated our predicament to the police guy hoping that he will assist us in finding a ride from this point all the way till Lahaul (at least). There was a young lady also sitting on a chair at the check post and there was no space to keep our bags. Little did we know, the J&K police check post guy started admonishing us saying this is a check post and it is not their duty to find rides for hitchhikers everyday. I understood that he must be used to foreign backpackers trying this tactic everyday since not everyone wants to travel on the most beautiful road in the world in the darkness of the night!

Read : Offbeat Explorations in Leh

I had not even kept my bags down and this initial conversation with the check post officer hit us like a bolt. We realised there could be no outside help and that we needed to keep a time limit in case we were not able to hitch a ride till the afternoon. No sooner as I kept one of my bags down, a private number HP34 (Kullu number) Toyota Innova stopped in front of the check post. I quickly asked the police officer if it made sense to ask him for a ride. He mentioned that this car was of a Ladakhi local. As the car guy walked out and narrated the details to be filled in the register; we blurted out that his car number reminds us of Kullu.

The car guy was a true gentleman and simply asked us ‘Chalo, hum aapko Jispa tak le chalte hain’. I couldn’t believe the happenings and double checked if they actually had the space to give us both a ride. We picked our bags and opened the boot to reveal that there were only 3 people in the 6 seater SUV and there was enough space for the two of us. We thanked everyone in the car and told them we could barely believe our luck. The clock had not even struck 11 and we were on the way, to our home in Kullu Valley.

We had only fresh local Ladakhi green peas to be shared as food and I offered the same to everyone. They offered us chocolates in return which came as a welcome delight for our starved tummies. After about 30 minutes into the ride, we felt a bit relaxed with the knowledge that we had succeeded in our endeavour of trying to get out of Ladakh and reaching Lahaul by hitchhiking. The driving skills of the gentleman were top notch and we made good time. There were hardly any vehicles on the road and the more time went by, the more we realised how lucky we had been!

Our first break was at Tanglang La : There were a couple of tourist taxis ferrying international tourists and I also spotted a Swift Dzire (maybe it was the same driver I got a call from last evening). I got out of the car to stretch my limbs and was welcomed by a freezing cold breeze. A number of Israelis on the pass were climbing nearby hillocks and making lifetime memories. In the absence of any winter clothing, it was prudent for us to keep ourselves warm and I got back to the car and we were ready to go.

It was a smooth ride and we were even making plans (in our minds) about our estimated time of reaching Lahaul and how we would travel to Manali/Kullu thereafter. As we neared Sarchu, there was a massive queue of trucks on both sides of the road and what we saw next blew our minds! Apparently an overloaded truck had broken down on a bridge in Sarchu and the only way now was by crossing the Tsarap Chu river. It was adventure at its finest and we were glad to be in a high ground clearance Innova rather than a Swift Dzire (that incidentally had to use the services of a jcb to tow it).

At first, I had thought there would be an orderly system of crossing the Tsarap Chu river but as we came closer to the actual crossing we saw that it was a free for all and that there were trucks and other vehicles crossing the river from everywhere and some of them were getting stuck in the process. A jcb guy was doing swift business, charging INR 1000 for towing a small vehicle! It was quite a sight to see the cyclists cross the river with their mountain bikes on their shoulders. This type of river crossing was only possible because the flow of water was not too much otherwise it could prove disastrous.

We had a pretty smooth crossing as the water splashed around while the entire vehicle was nearly submerged at one point. There was a small damage as the front number plate went missing in the adventure and the co-passengers joked that they would have to plan a trip to Phukthar Monastery in Zanskar to retrieve it! The closure of the usual road meant we were suddenly in sync with the truth that in the present circumstances post flooding it was going to be touch and go with regards to catching the last bus of the day headed to Manali/Kullu. It was about 2-230 pm when we crossed Sarchu.

It was a smooth journey thereafter as we crossed Baralacha La and made a pee break at one of the dhabas near Bharatpur/Zing Zing Bar. Our hunger knew no bounds but we agreed to not waste any time and try to get to the destination as soon as possible. In our case, the destination was Jispa as the family giving us a ride were the owners of a property in Jispa. I was beginning to get thoughts of how to thank these guys for the ride – was it by offering a fair price of the shared taxi ride, say INR 2500 per person? They were very kind and we were also able to make some mutual connections as they had a home in Kullu as well.

We rolled into Jispa to a glorious sun shining brightly and I saw the clock show 419 pm as the time. A brief thought passed my mind if we could stay at their cottage for the night and perhaps compensate them monetarily for the same as repayment. We were preoccupied with the notions of returning home and thought we would even take a taxi ride if there was no other way. It was decided to make a gift pack for these kind folks to repay their kindness (when we headed next this side in the future). We exchanged numbers and decided to stand on the road and try hitching another ride.

Read : The Goodness of Strangers : Self-Published Book

In the meanwhile, I was able to speak to the HRTC manager in Keylong bus stand who informed me that the last bus of the day from Keylong to Kullu would leave at 430 pm. We told him there was no way to catch that bus as we were still in Jispa and it was already close to 430. The distance from Jispa to Keylong is about 19-20 kms and there was no chance of us flying yet! We walked a little bit and decided to try our luck from a vantage point on the road located on a bend.

There was a dhaba eatery on the opposite side of the road and in the absence of any tourists, he came asking us if we needed any help and to keep our bags on the chairs outside his dhaba. We made small talk and he was delighted to know we lived in Dobhi village as his relatives also lived nearby. We told him we had not eaten anything since morning and if we had a confirmed mode of transport would have loved a proper meal at his dhaba. He understood our situation and came and stood with us on the other side of the road as a sign of assistance. We saw a tempo traveller in the far distance and prepared ourselves to stop it.

It resulted in a laughable scenario! The HP01 tempo traveller duly stopped with the least persuasion and the kind youngsters pointed to the filled seats and massive bags as they were returning after a trek and had no space at all. We thanked them for stopping and told them we will try with other vehicles. After a couple of other vehicles that crossed not bothering about us, finally a small fuel tanker guy arrived and even though the space was only suitable for one person – we somehow squeezed in and the kind driver made space for our bags.

He said that he was returning from the Army duty of filling fuel near Killing Sarai and was headed to the local depot at Tandi and possibly going all the way to Manali. We thanked him for being very kind and told us about our day so far. He mentioned that his superiors have warned him against giving trips to random folks but sometimes he takes a chance to help! It was an adventurous ride as we were going at a nice speed until the tanker guy was stopped at the petrol pump in Keylong. Apparently, there was some confusion of where he had to go and he was asked to reconfirm the status in Tandi.

At the same moment, I got a phone call from the HRTC manager in Keylong bus stand that due to the festive rush of rakshabandhan, a special bus from Keylong to Kullu was scheduled to leave Keylong bus stand at 530 pm. It was past 530 pm and even though the HRTC manager said that the bus was jam packed and that there was no chance of getting a seat, we were elated to know that if we somehow boarded the bus in Tandi, we would not have to change any more transports and could directly get down in Dobhi. Our small tanker guy had to go to the fuel depot in Tandi and we asked him to drop us at Pangi Dhaba.

The tanker guy had given me his number to tell him about our status with regards to the bus since his fuel depot was in a no network zone and for all the trouble he might actually be going to Manali. If we were unable to board the bus, his tanker might still have space for us. At Pangi Dhaba, we had a quick realisation that we perhaps have ten minutes before the bus made it to Tandi. We asked for two plates of rajma chawal as quickly as possible, made sure to pay beforehand so that there was no trouble with the rush if the bus came when we were not done eating.

We wolfed down the yummy food at breakneck speed and I even asked for a second helping. This was our first any sort of meal of the day and it was close to 6 pm. As I was having my last bite, the bus arrived and as expected there was no space at all. Thankfully, my partner had found a seat for her (ladies quota) and I was resigned to standing! While I was paying for the ticket, another surprise awaited. Since it was rakshabandhan, ladies travelled free on the day and it felt like the proverbial ‘icing on the cake.’

The conductor and driver were kind to make space for our bags in the front. I was so exhausted after the events of the day that for the first time I sat on the floor of a bus near the boarding staircase. It felt like the world was spinning and I might even have dozed off for a bit. Thankfully, the weather was mild and felt quite pleasant as we were in the midst of the Lahauli summer on 30th August. After a while, the bus conductor woke me up when a seat became available near Sissu. I was in a disoriented state and felt quite uncomfortable presumably due to a heavy rajma chawal meal so late in the day.

As we neared Manali, I was shocked to see the state of the road near Bahang. The road was gone and only a makeshift arrangement made vehicular movement possible. I was dozing off intermittently and woke up when we reached Manali at about 730-8 pm. Someone told us that this was the last bus of the day from Manali to Kullu and we could barely believe our good fortune. If any of our rides through the day had been delayed, there would have been no chance of us returning on the same day.

I got a seat in the front after Manali and the full impact of the flooding was now known with the dust flying around. The 19 kilometre distance from Manali to Dobhi took more than an hour and a half. The road had completely gone away in five-six sections and the region around Kalath was the worst affected.

We were almost in tears looking at the state of the road and the mangled remains of destroyed vehicles still in the river. Our stop in Dobhi came and we got out of the bus after thanking the driver and conductor. It was almost ten by the time we entered our house. If not for the ten minute chance for rajma chawal at Pangi Dhaba, we might have slept hungry.

It is a story for the ages. Humanity and ‘The Goodness of Strangers’ is still alive. No matter how advanced we become as a race; we will survive only if we help fellow human beings without any motive.

As I type this, life and the roads are back to normal in Kullu. When the pace of repairing the road was lacking by the government, the locals performed shramdaan (manual labour) to get the infrastructure up and running. It ensured that the apple crop that is the bulk of the livelihood for people in the valley, was harvested smoothly and was transported efficiently to different corners of India.

This is my first blog post in a few months; due to an unintended break. I am glad the old writing style is back with a journey in yesteryear style.

I would love to get your reactions on how this journey made you feel!

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