Trekking to Moonrise | Dharamshala

Spontaneous is what I think made it so wonderful. N and I reached Majnu ka Tila just in time after a quick meal. Everything was exciting, to travel without a plan, to travel in a bus, to travel with a partner who was as excited and scared. There was excitement to even get a taxi late in the evening which speedily took us from the bylanes of Paharganj to our final boarding point. There was a sense that this was a point of destiny, the feeling you get when unexpectedly happens. Sharing a few snacks, some jokes, music and naps we reached Dharamshala. We began our trek to triund post breakfast. I was happy with my eggs and coffee. The air of the hills had filled us with the spirit we needed to begin this adventure. N had done this before, it was my first time. quarter trek up, I wanted to give up. A lot of patience and a couple of breaks later, we were there. A little bit like heaven, we were on a flat land in the valley surrounded by mountains I had only seen from far. I needed an embrace, overwhelmed that I had come all this way, we settled this with a half hug. Finally planting our home for the night, we were now in the mellow joy of this moment, which had just us. A warm dinner with chai and paranthas, guitar in the background, and bonfire, this was more charming than any of my imaginary romances. Opposite us was a moonrise, adding a sense of magic to this night. Cold on the outside, I shivered through the night in the sleeping bag. A warm touch or two was comforting. I could hear my heart pounding, half asleep half awake, I gave him a peck. We spent the morning enjoying the view, more chai and paranthas and a funny feeling in our stomach. I was more optimistic about the way down. Holding him all through, we reached the bottom. Sunburnt and sore we were now in our hotel for the second night. A stroll in mcleodganj, we enjoyed the sunset with chai, pakoras and sweet conversations. With our newly gained adventurer's spirit, we scored some pot. It was a first timer for N and I was going to be his teacher. We rolled a joint in the balcony of our room. The musical echo of the hills and stars were our companions. This night was going to be a memorable one. 3 am and none of us wanted to sleep. Smiling to myself, I woke up even more sore but a blossoming heart. We decided to visit the Dalai lama art school. A luncheon of thupka and dumplings, we engaged in a hearty conversation. Somethings are perfect because they are imperfect. Raw, rough and vulnerable, this journey was a start to something. 

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