The performer at the bus stand

The homesickness is getting real in Kaza. This is the second day in a row that I have woken up with the thought of going back. To Delhi. The crowded noisy capital with its big trees and wide roads. The love for plains and its people is calling out quite loudly to me. The barren

The ‘Real’ Kaza

After the bumpy ride from Manali, the wind-stricken stay at Batal and the maddening walk to the breath-taking Chandra taal, my bones were craving comfort, a clean washroom, hot water and some belly filling food. And that’s exactly what I got in Kaza. Here, I’m cooped up at Hotel Spiti Heritage. A relatively new hotel in

Exploring Madness In The Silence Of Spiti

When I woke up in the morning, I was in two minds. Should I go? Should I wait for a ride? Should I just stay on in Batal instead? Save both money and effort? The choice was simple. All I had to do was say yes or no. So, I stopped thinking. I tuned out

Too many options!

When one decides to leave for a long weekend, with friends to that not so far away destination, a certain kind of pragmatic thrill is involved. It’s the joy of a short break mixed with the angst of an unavoidable, impending return. The mega full stop to everything you wish life would rather be about. But