After time spent among the singing silence of Alchi, we come at a place to stay for the next night. We make our way through beautiful roads lined with apricot trees in bloom. We come to our room expecting a nice bed to crash on for the night. 5 minutes, and there were gasps of awe, and little shouts of joy. It is not a room with a view, the room IS within the view. River Sindhu was our grecious host for the next few hours, singing as it danced its way through the mountains. It felt as if a generally prosaic person would become a poet here, and the poet – a hermit. I do not feel like leaving my seat in the small varandah adjacent to the room, however, we anyways go out for a stroll just before the evening.
We take the road in front of the hotel, cross the small bridge decorated with loads of colorful prayer flags across the river, take the small patch of dirt road at the other end. The sun is dim. A chilly wind to my skin, I look at the river, the mountains that surrounds it, the bridge that I took to come this side, prayer flags fluttering in the wind still, splash of colors mixed with the prayer and hopes of many. Only the river spoke, with its cheerful yet deep voice. Time seemed to freeze for what seemed to me as eternity.
I move some more to discover a small pool of water, rushing to meet the river, then I see a tree, uprooted, and then some more , to realize there had been a slide the previous night…and my poetic soul politely asks me to move back to the hotel 😛 “Some scenaries are enjoyed most when you see them from a distance”, it says. I somehow gag its mouth and take the hand of the one that calls itself courage and another one, called wanderlust. We take the road , walk some more, cross a makeshift bridge that is made of wood and hung between two ridges and no side bars, go to the edge of the mountain, where the small pool is but a big rushing stream of water.
While coming back, I smell the vegetation, shrubs in the wind. It is cold now. The sun is out of the view and it is getting darker every minute. I walk back through the beautiful road, to find warmth of a campfire. We sing and dance our way through the rest of the waking moment before coming back again to the room in the view until Sindhu , with its deep and melodious voice, puts us to a relaxing sleep.