Warm In The Blistering Cold Of Chitkul
Calendars change dates as we flip the pieces of paper, Seasons change their shades as winds go from warm to colder, But you and I? Bonded with friendship we only seem to get tighter.
A march evening saw us reach Chitkul a little later than we expected. The Sun was about to leave for the day, so, the locals told us to visit Baspa River the next morning. But we’d travelled to far and long to wait anymore without hearing the waves sing their wild song.
Slipping and stepping with giggles and sighs on a road that seemed to be made of snow, we went down the pebbles to say hello to Baspa just with the last of the sunrays’ glow. We weren’t just visiting a place, we were visiting a family.
Father mountains stood tall and rigid, everyone saw the strength but few understood the gentle heart that beat inside. Mother trees stood guard around their child, lending shelter in her shade, strong in her silent ways. But the child? Oh, the child was the river that played with reckless abandon! Running up rocks, swimming down valleys and daring us to take a dip.
And, as the sky slipped from noon to night, the family hosted us with love yet the temperatures dipped and sent shivers down our city-bred spines. In that moment we weren’t strangers visiting the same spot, we were a family of our own, one made with the blood in our veins flowing for a passion of wandering and birthed with the warmth of friendship. So, remember will you? To keep your jackets close but your friends even closer. 🙂
Thanks and regards,
Niyati Saxena (@migrantmusings)
There’s always going to be more places to see, more experiences to live and more people to befriend and “home” will be the pieces of me left in those places, those experiences and with those people. Infinite belief in doing it all. For more stories, check out my Instagram handle @migrantmusings