Between Cherry Blossoms and Cinema: Two Days At Dharamshala Film Festival

The best part about moving back to my hometown Jaipur last year is the close proximity to Himachal Pradesh. It’s not like I didn’t travel to this mountain state when I was working in Bangalore, but for someone who deeply believes in making last-minute mood-based spontaneous decisions, this setup works better for my pahaad cravings. This time, it was the uncontrollable urge to inhale new air, to be somewhere creative, that took me to the Dharamshala Film Festival.

On 28th Oct, because of the lack of direct bus/train to Dharamshala from Jaipur, I travelled to Delhi and took a 10-hour long overnight bus from ISBT Kashmiri Gate to Dharamshala. I have long established that if one has to shed the weight of desires, the only way is to fulfill most of them and wait for none. Hence travelling solo is never something that gets in the way of doing and seeing things I want to. But also, I have been lucky on my solo trips to find people who have space in their hearts and schedule for a stranger.

This trip was no different. After a long night and countless cups of chai, the nauseating feeling of driving on curvy roads eventually turned into misty sights of mountain trees and I already felt my heart smile wide. At the dropping point near Dharamshala petrol pump, a group asked me to share the cab with them. One of them was an actress and the other two worked in the film industry as well. Their hotel was the first one on the way. While they changed and freshened up, I waited at a small cafe whose window opened to a tall tree blooming with pink cherry blossoms. They were everywhere!

As I sipped my ginger lemon tea while staring at the tree, the October nip felt crisp yet kind. We had a hearty brunch at Jimmy’s Kitchen and collected our passes for the film festival. That evening was for lazy walks around McLeodGanj, eating Bhagsu Cake from The Pastry Den, making friends with strangers, and taking deep breaths under the sky full of stars.

The next morning (Day 1 of DIFF), I reached the screening venue a little before 9 a.m. Morning sunlight poured into the valleys, the breeze was scented with eucalyptus and momos, and everywhere I looked – there were filmmakers, writers, dreamers. The small town seemed to have transformed into an open gallery of stories. After having a cup of coffee from the Illiterati cafe, the first film I watched – Cutting Through Rocks, an Iranian piece, left me feeling proud of my gender and the wonders it’s capable of. The opening film of the day was Homebound and I wasn’t ready to re-live the trauma of COVID but the hard-hitting nature of the movie left the audience emotionally raw.

Outside the inflatable cinema halls, Dharamshala glowed. Bouganvillea, cherry blossoms, and prayer flags fluttered on the uneven roads taking us from one movie theatre to another. In between the films, we sipped tea, shared carrot cake and exchanged notes. It’s wonderful how the pace of a place decides our own. Nobody was in a hurry - everyone was fully present.

At twilight, I remember sitting on the steps near the main square, watching the town soften into gold and people drifting by carrying a love for something intangible.

Two days at DIFF felt like a small lifetime. On Day 2, I reached the venue a little after noon (had such great coffee and breakfast at Juniper Cafe, McLeod Ganj).

The closing film for my version of DIFF was Sabar Bonda. Exploring a queer relationship through grief, loss, and social taboos with great acting and script is no small feat in itself. Sabar Bonda (Cactus Pears in Marathi) reminded me of the times when I dozed off on a couch on a winter night and someone gently put a fuzzy blanket on me.

When I stepped out, the quiet sheen of festival lights braided with colourful flags enveloped all my senses. A trip that began with exhaustion was ending with gratitude I couldn’t shake off. As the mountains receded on my way back, my heart was full of the tender voices of people I met there. When I started to fall asleep, I thought about how their laughter echoed off the hills and how much power cinema and travel hold.

Maybe that’s what they both do, help us cut through our own rocks.