Fantasy, Himachal Pradesh, India, Oral Stories from Rural India, Tales from Rural India, Travel Poems
Comments 39

Love in Himachal Pradesh

Lets start from where we ended. For twenty-seven nights, I was the only one living in a wooden balcony that hung facing the jungle on a whole mountain. The red moon that I saw on the forehead of a mother in the village down, i saw a similar one on my lover. But her eyes were set against the only window the first night. Pink walls. She told me she wants to scream. Now! I said. She smiled. Fire. She kept looking in my eyes and started screaming. I closed my mouth. And opened my eyes. It was winters. It was cold. And you know when it is winters and when it is cold how heavy the rains hit. It confuses the heart.

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It was sunny next day. Pluto arrived. Nara, let’s go meet the man who sneezes forty times. He does that once daily. We left our two limping dogs behind. It was a beautiful walk. We reached. We sat outside Daulat Ram’s home in his garden on uncomfortable plastic chairs. An old brown cow whose back had curved in like a hammock, stood between us and the old Vishnu temple. After we all stopped talking, Daulat Ram turned his face and started looking towards the sun. We both waited long time for him to start sneezing forty times but he slept. The moment we heard his first long snore we left and started walking back to where the bus will come at six. While walking down it happened that I realized my hands wanted to touch every passing tree. That feeling to touch trees again and again grew so much that we started making our own road in a quest to touch, our closest relative’s hard skin. In doing so the bus was missed. Or so it looked. A girl kept looking and told us you can still catch it, if you want it! The moment we learnt that we started running so fast on various varieties of mountain stairs that no one could have come closer to whisper but the wind, “swallow the world, swallow the world and fly”.

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It was a run of a life time from Bijli Mahadev to four villages down on to the main road. We reached before the bus arrived. That was the last one for the day and in my running breath, in between looking at everyone and not looking i felt sitting the roof up and made this sketch that i finished later.

I remembered the evolution of another poem at another time that i wrote in the jungles once walked by the great Nicholas Roreich, the Russian painter.

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One of the huts i rented out last year for a month in upper villages

As beautiful as a Birdsong, first Travel poem that came out from me.

Naggar became popular in mid 1950s as the home of the legendary Russian painter Nicholas Roerich. He lived here for several years, and died here too. His art gallery attracts a lot of Russian, Italian and french travelers throughout the year. But even though i kept going to Naggar after my first halt It was in 2013, six years later that i happened to visit the gallery.

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Over all these years i have many memories when this valley on the left side of Beas made me feel home. Every single time. I have made more friends here than anywhere in my Travels, may be in Kashmir but i have to get to writing Kashmir for you all, soon. But sharing some old times and quiet inspiration that Roerich saab has had upon me and many ones who must have or are planning to visit Naggar.

DSC01246Singsong – A half cloud like a cotton moon rising from the Devdars, Naggar

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In 2018, While solo trekking to Chandrakhani Pass to meet sage Parashuram’s father, Jamdagni Maharaj

I am certain many of us are yearning to walk on the mountains; without masks. But truly we have no idea idea when it may happen again. Whenever it does, and you plan something around these villages, please write to me. Some village homes will be happy to have you as extended family members from my side.

by

Hi, I am Narayan Kaudinya. And i welcome you on this journey, the Road to Nara ! I am an Ethnographer and a practicing Indologist. I did my masters in History and further learnt Sanskrit, Yoga and Nerve-therapy. At 24, pushing most academic sounding, office sitting works away, i felt compelled to know and understand the world and my country, Bharat/India. I travelled, and as it happened i took up teaching in Kashmir and further up in the remote villages of Baltistan in the foothills of Karakoram Ranges. For around three years and many states later there came a time when i felt that it was only while teaching i learnt how to laugh, to see, feel, breathe, love and cry -with children, and mostly resource-less parents in the harshest-freezing border conditions. I write, and work as a documentary photographer and Filmmaker, with numerous published, exhibited and some awarded stories. In my travels and life i have let nature lead me, the divine mother, and as a Yogin, my resolve here is to share my experiences and thoughts as honestly, and through them to blossom in everyone the power and possibility in pursuing your breath, that you seek your true nature with courage and curiosity. Here, on this road i will share my spirit, my love for nature, the elements of life that are us. And in doing so, i'll be happy to see you along.

39 Comments

  1. Dear Narayan, thankyou so much for sharing. i think your blog is wonderful. Peace and love to you and yours from Australia.

    Liked by 3 people

    • You are welcome dearest. This blog-space-i is because you are. Thank you for your presence and words that you keep feeding me. And i found out you are a brilliant illustrator. I hope you are doing things happily. Love.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Beautiful story and adventure. Thanks for sharing them. Our world has change. For now, we can’t travel outside our country & it helps to see the world through someone’s eyes.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hello Island traveller. Thank you for being here. Our world has transformed into what we pushed it to become. Yes, no one can travel right now. May be mother earth wants some more time to heal before ut can let all her children play and make a mess a lot more than now again.
      Lovely to have your words here.

      Liked by 1 person

    • haha. Thank you Alison. Yes i love that image of mine, even that moment because i remember the process of it a little. It was a beautiful time for me too. I am happy to share it and see how lovely it is to read from the larger family.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. How surreal! It reminds me of the time when I went on a trek to the wildest country I had ever seen in my life. Being from the densely populated plains of the South, the mountains and the unbridled life there was just .. mesmerizing. Great writing. Loved it!

    Liked by 1 person

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