The Pensieve

Haridwar (Door to Hari, Lord Vishnu), there is something familiar about this city where the abundant northern plains meet the giant Himalayas. The city has always been there, not as mystifying as Banaras, or as touristy as Agra, or as religious as Shirdi, but all those features combined together in one neighborhood. I’ve always been through (yes, through) Haridwar, touched it on the surface many a times. Be it for last rites of a neighbor or relative, or on the way to my college in the hills of Garhwal, or just to take a dip in Ganga. All these peripheral trips were way before the realization that travel is not about source and destination. It was way before the joy of sitting through an entire sunset dawned upon me. It was way way before that I wouldn’t call those trips, travel anymore. A marriage ceremony, a dying airline and a spring- summer school break gave a chance to feel the city in my new normal, slow and easy way. Witnessed the famous Ganga Arti a few times in different posit

Washing mud from my feet and grime from my tired body, the memories came rushing in. Initially in sequence and later in bursts and flashes. So decided to pen them down before aging memory fails me. It already started to look like a dream now but was not so dream-like when we were out there doing it. It was real, perhaps more real then the mere existense of our day-to-day life. What started as a 5 day trek to Sahyadri, became a toil which opened all the joints of my body and sensitised some deep corners of my mind. From the outside, through our city blinded eyes, these places looks barren, down-right poor and less fortunate. But staying there, living their life, eating their food and breathing their air make you realise the richness. The richness of life, richness of heart, richness of time and richness of stories. So here are some glimpses of that richness which touched me, overwhelmed me and made me a follower with the mud on my feet. The day started with me luging my r