Himachal Diaries

24th Nov 2017
Photo of Himachal Diaries 1/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

When you see a travel blog, you seek adventure, the trill.

When you see a Solo Travellers’ blog, it becomes more so.

This time around, the places I visited, were not for adventure.

I was escaping.

This will not be a regular travel blog.

So, starting off.

It was an episode of depression. I was going deep down into spirals. I wanted a way out. I knew, this time friends cannot help me. People who could have, didn’t.

The problem was depression. The reason was unknown. I couldn’t locate the source. And if you can’t find the leak, there is no fixing it. So, I went out. Himachal. Kasol, Tosh, Dharamkot, Mcleodganj, Delhi.

I did book round flight tickets. And, I did not book any hotels. I booked only hostels. Where, I can talk to people from different places and get a view from them. Listen to their stories. Hostels are great place if you have the right company. I had the right company, all the time.

The tour plan for Himachal :

Kolkata - > Delhi - > Bhuntar > Kasol > Tosh > Dharamshala -> Mcleodganj -> Delhi- > Kolkata.

Day 1:

My morning flight landed at Delhi around 9:30am and from there, I took a cab to Madpackers Hostel. It was a crazy place. It reminded me of my college days. Its the best, a hostel can provide. I met a guy called Chris on the very first day, and we got along pretty well. He used to be a real estate seller now looking to set up his new Sailing business in Cali. Best of luck, man. On the terrace of the hostel, we talked for hours. Smoked. I was writing my stuffs in between. I had to vent out my own emotions. I couldn’t have shared it, with other people around. We had a good 5kms walk from our hostel to eatery in the Hauz Khas Village. Ate up. A beer. And got a tuk tuk back to our hostel. This guy, Chris, was in love with “Bidi”. He nearly stopped smoking cigarettes. :D

In the evening we tried to find some booze, but alas, the shops were closed. We came back, quite annoyed and asked the Hostel owner for help. They arranged a party at some pub in Hauz Khas village, where we could drink upto 11pm for free. That’s on the Madpackers. ☺

About 20 people from the Hostel, went out.

Madpackers arranged for the cab. Well, I used to hate Delhi, but these guys, certainly changed my notion a bit.

Chris and I were standing at a corner, drinking our Whiskey and saying what loud music, maan. This is insane. Three drinks later, we understood, there was no point in standing at the Corner. We invaded the Floor. :D

Rest, will be written in history books, someday. ;)

So, we came back around, 2am and found, people were at the terrace. Smoking and talking. Well, I lost Chris, in between. So, I alone joined the conversion. Emily, traveling from US. Had a conversation on religion, mainly. Emily tried to convince me religion has a purpose, and that is good.

Well, me being the ardent follower of Satyajit Ray’s Aguntuk, refused to cave in. The conversation went on till 4am, I guess. Drunk, we were, retired to bed.

Must Try : Oreo Shake.

Didn’t feel like a depressed person, right ? Yes, that’s the point. You can smile, laugh, drink, talk and still be depressed. But, it was a much needed distraction. I felt good after a long time.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 2/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Day 2 :

Got up at 9am. Went for the complimentary breakfast. Most of the hostel was sleeping. Few were up. Aleksandra, from Moscow, was one of them. She was the one from Moscow and had no accent. Speaks English fluently, not like my previous encounter with the Russians. We had our breakfast, and now, with the Tea, we started off discussing politics. Global politics and Russian. Russia's take on Syria and Iran, and at the same time accession of Crimea. We probably covered the recent issues, along with Trump. This buffon, keeps coming up.  And that continued for like, 2hours. Yeah, your interest in Politics helps. Well, she is  without a job now, going back to Russia and she will have to find a job. Chris, joined us in between, on the terrace. Exhausted of his Bidis, he started rolling his cigarettes. And a little guitar session too.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 3/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

I had a bus to catch for Bhuntar at night. And had a friend to meet in between. So, I packed my stuffs, checked out. Put my backpack in the hostel luggage room and left for a late lunch. Again, Hauz Khas. Had our lunch. Talked for hours. Came back to the hostel, grabbed my backpack. Hugged and had to bid good bye to all my hostel mates. Refilled, my Flask. Took a tuk tuk to the metro and went to Kashmere Gate. This is the place in Delhi, from where most of the Buses departs. But, not mine. I had to travel again to Majnu ka Tilla to board my bus.

Bade good bye to Ritu, my friend from Delhi. And boarded the bus. At the depot, met two, Romanians coming from Goa, and going to Kasol. Iulia and Philip. The night in the bus was pretty normal. Just, getting acquainted. Sharing my flask of Rum, to keep us warm for the night. The bus was pretty comfortable. And, I slept. Woke up at around 2am. The bus stopped over some 'dhaba' for refreshment. Went out to have tea and it was blistering cold. Rum, was the savior in the end. ☺

Now, for two days, in a row, I didn’t have time to think about the phase, I was passing through previously. It was a good feeling.

But, I was writing my Diary to vent out the venom.

That diary, is going in the Bank Locker.

Day 3 :

The Bus reached Bhuntar around 9am. And we had to board a local bus from Bhuntar to Kasol. The local bus came. We boarded. Waited 45minutes. Got down. Boarded a taxi, to Kasol. 3 of us shared the fare, so, no hole in our pocket, detected. It costs around 900-1000 bucks in total

Reached Kasol, within an Hour. Well, luckily found, we individually booked our stays at The Hostellers.

The place was nice. Neat and tidy, but not anything close to the Madpackers. Its not a hostel. Its more of a hotel with dorms. My room had a open terrace in front.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 4/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

And with a view like this, I got down to write again. What I wrote, doesn’t matter much.

Places have certain effect on you. Kasol, people go there to get high. I went there for solitude. It’s not that I didn’t smoke. I did. But, I never got high.

Except for one hour, at a café, where they were playing some psychedelic stuffs and some weird screen saver videos on the giant screen. Mountains, have this effect on you. You can sit by the river and gaze at Mountains so close, yet so far, for hours.

You try to go deeper into your issues. Why, how, when , whats are more frequent than before. You look for the answers. But, there is difference. When these questions came to mind before, you were gasping for distraction, a hint of fresh air. You didn’t get any. No one saves you, but you. Lucky are those people who has people (people, not spouses or partners or your boyfriend or girlfriend, to be precise, can be anyone from a stranger to a long lost friend).

Have you ever slept by the running mountain rivers ? And looked at the fragment of blue sky visible through the cracks of the pine leaves ? Never ? Hahahaha… You missed out on something, you deserved more than your eye-candies.

Have you ever listened to the Sound of silence ? Or just the sound of a down streaming river flowing past you ? And occasional beat of the Bird songs ? Never ? Hahahahahha… You missed out on something more enthralling than the hip-hop song you play on your Bose Speakers.

This time around, you think deeper, looking at the sky. Answers comes ‘blowin in the wind’.

I know, there is answer to every question, but time, you don’t get the answer, until its time.

Everything was coming back to place. I was going back to my normal self again.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 5/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Now, the travel, Philip, Iulia, Arjun (friend of Philip) and I were going places. From Cafes to small treks. I liked the peace of Kasol. Just, that place has become more commercialized. I went to certain places from there, like Tosh, Challal, Malana and 2 villages I won’t name (I’ve learnt to be selfish, to protect the mountains, we need to take responsibility of not making every place in the mountains a weekend destination for the Land Rover or Jaguar owners from the 30th floors of Delhi or Chandigarh high rises, not every place deserves a EDM party. If they discover those places of their own, my luck is running really bad).

There are plenty of cafes in and around Kasol. Nearly all of them are good. You’ll get good quality of food. If you have an appetite for Israeli cuisine, you are at the right place. At my hostel, met 3 guys from different parts of India, namely, Pune, Mumbai, Dehradun. We went out for a walk in the evening and came back around 9pm. We sat on the terrace, cold wind was blowing. But, you cannot make a man feel cold, who is not ready to feel anything. And Rum, was on my side. Sat in the blistering cold till 2am and then retired to bed. This time, I won’t go in the after bed stories. :D

Day 4 :

Got up around, 6am, to see the sunrise. But, alas, the sun already came out. So, went back to the bed and finally woke up around 9am. I went for breakfast along with Arjun, Iulia and Philip. Had a nutella pancake. It was delicious. After that, we went for a walk towards Challal. One got to cross a bridge over the Parvati river to go to the otherside and walk. Roads are narrow. But, not tough. One can easily walk through. The road to Challal run alongside Parvati river. The scenery is breath taking.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 6/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

That’s the reason, I can travel to mountains all alone, without anyone. Sat by the river. Four of us. Silence. Looking at the river. It was serene. Missed the sunrise in the Morning, missing the sunset was not an option.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 7/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Trekked all the way back to Kasol, by evening.

Kept ourselves warm by the fire.

Was having a drink. Smoking a joint.

A song, Pink Floyd, “Wish you were here”. Picked up my guitar, after days.

I was in a dreamland.

“Imagine” was the next on the list.

Ended with “Sweet Child ‘o’ Mine”.

Dream comes slow, but they Go so fast.

Time to Bed.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 8/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Me, with the God, I believe in. Imagine.

Day 5 :

Arjun, Philip, Iulia and I had to part ways.

They were going to Arjun’s place. I was going, ‘downhill’.

I rented a bike.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 9/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Went to Tosh, Walked around.

Had my lunch there. Lafa.

It was a brother of Swarmah. ☺

Few kilometers walk from Tosh, there was snow.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 10/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

It was cold.

And, I’m not a biker by any means.

It was bad decision to ride a bike. Controlling bikes in the mountains is a different ball game altogether, than the plains. And then, I don’t even ride bikes while at Kolkata. The roads were muddy, and the wheels were slipping and skidding. And to pull up the weight of an Enfield Up hill, it was a herculean task. I was thinking, if I should have taken a lighter vehicle, but, chuck it. I was feeling like the king, except for the occasional slips. The views were calm, quiet and serene. I knew, riding this down the slope, is going to be a hell ride. So, I started while, there was still sun and reached Kasol by 6pm. I was alone, in the hostel. All my friends where gone by then. I had to take out me diary. And started writing again. Penning down my thoughts were the only way left. Writing helps, but, it takes you deeper. Depression is a real shit. It cuts deeper than millennial heart breaks. You have to believe, its just a storm and it will pass. Your life, begins after it passes. For, it had landed you out of your comfort zone, and created a havoc around you. People thinks, men with tattoos, beards, eye gears, carrying a flask of rum in his hip pocket, are strong, independent. That, they are , no confusion regarding that. But, you know, angels do die. Strong men, cry. I left my bed around 12:30 am and went walking. Through the jungle, to some high place. Just to sit alone, in the dark. Hear the rumbling river. Watching the stars in the sky. And to cry. Yes, almost after half a decade. You thought, solo travel is adventure. Yes, it is. Traveling solo, gives your confidence back. When, amidst of your family, friends you pass on the decision making to the others, for you yourself is fighting a war within. Traveling alone, you got no choice but to make the decision. I made the decision, went out and cried my heart out. I don’t know the reason why I cried. I felt, I needed to. You must break. You must. Often. Its okay to be destroyed. Because its always about how we build ourselves up.  Never stop loving your beautiful originality, because the world can never replicate you beautiful mind.

When I left home, I was a wreckage. Now, 2am sitting at high point in the mountains, sobbing uncontrollably. I was complete. “Mother Mary” came to me, I guess. 5am, I returned back to hostel. Slept till 10am.

Day 6 :

I had to change my plan to trek to Kheerganga as the roads were closed by then. Few people from Delhi moved in my room. They were playing Honey Singh, Baadsaah at full bass on their JBL wireless speakers. A they have checked in, I decided to check out. Paid out. Checked out. Next Big question is where to go. My friend, Chris suggested me to go to Dharamshala or Mcleodganj. I decided to check the buses.

There is no direct bus from Kasol to Dharamshala. You have to come down to Bhuntar and then take a bus going to Dharamshala. But, due to off season, that bus was not there too. There was a bus going from Bhuntar to Jammu. It drops you at a place called Gaggal, 20Kms from Dharamshala. Mcleodganj is 8 kms further. That bus leaves Bhuntar by 8:45pm.

I was left with the morning. Took out my bike, went to Malana. There is a gate, to enter the Malana Village. You have to leave your bikes here and then walk. Malana is famous for its hash cultivation. Walked around the Hash garden. I didn’t buy any. I wasn’t supposed to get much high on this trip.

Had my lunch at a café, near the Malana Gate. Came to Kasol around 4pm. Freshened up a bit. Put on the night gears. I had mile to travel at night.

As, I came to know from the booking agent, the bus was supposed to leave around 9 and drop me a Gaggal around 5am. Will get a local bus or taxi to Mcleodganj from there.

So, I boarded a bus from Kasol to Bhuntar around 6pm. It was supposed to reach by 7:30. Well, there was an accident on the road and thing about mountains is that, if you get stuck, you will get stuck for long. When I finally, got down at Bhuntar, it was 9:25pm and my bus had left me, already. ;’)

Yeah, you adventure crazy people, now cheer. I will take you there.

I asked a guy on the Bike to give me a lift, so that I can catch the bus. He agreed. His lives at a place called AUT. Which is some 30kms from Bhuntar. I hoped, we will be able to catch the Bus by AUT. But, no luck. So, was stranded at AUT for sometime. I finally spotted a truck, carrying vegetable, was leaving for Jammu. Bingo. I offered the driver, 300 bucks, to drop me to Gaggal. He smiled, and said, Get on, on the road, we will stop for tea. You pay there. Nice people. A person, that has never met me, was coming forward to help me just for a cup of tea. And, I have 520 friends in Facebook, apart from, maybe 50, they hardly care about my existence. And out of this 520, I have almost met 450 in person, at some point in my life. Strange world. Stranger People. I got up on the driver’s cabin. Gurbaksh Ji. The helper, Mandeep. We talked along the way for 2.5 hours. I came to know, Gurbaksh ji lost his son in an accident. Lost his daughter, murdered for dowry. Have his one son, working for army. And his adopted daughter is still in school. AND HE WAS SMILING.

I, A MORON FROM THE METROPOLITAN, HAVING A CLOSE TO 7FIGURE SALARY, MY OWN HOUSE, WHO GOES TO PUB TO CHILL WITH FRIENDS, COMES TO MOUNTAINS TO FIND SOLITUDE AT WILL, AM F*cking depressed. About things I don’t know, people I never met, things that never happened. What is going on ? We stopped for the Tea. I’m saying now, I was planning to go to Jammu with them. They were showing me the way at 1am in the night inside a vegetable truck. The very thing I came for. I loved those people. They are the people, why humanity still exists.  You find “human” where you have least expected to find them. All those, move on two legs, breathe and reproduce are not Human. You have to feel, to be human. I was about cry again. Gurbaksh hugged me, “koi nai puttar. Tu changa to jag changa. Kabhi gussa ko charne mat dena sir pe”. (Translating : If you are good, world will be good. Don’t let you Anger, ride on you). Just minutes before, boarding this truck, I was listening to Oasis’s “Don’t look back in Anger”. This world has a rather a simple way of showing things to us, in a strange way, and where you least expect them. I was feeling much lighter. These two people, Gurbaksh with his wisdom, and Mandeep with his smile, all along, pulled me out of the Gutter.

I saw a bus, repairing its flat tire, I front. It was the bus that left me at Bhuntar. It was the bus, I got in Palampur. I hugged them tight. Bade, goodbye. I got in the bus, nearly full. Got my seat. And the bus left around 2:15am. I was just feeling sleepy and I calculated that, there is like 2.5hours to Gaggal, I was just dozing off. Sudden jerk, 3:20am, the helper said, its Gaggal and I had to get down.

3:30 am, in a mountain, far off from getting anything. I took out the mat from my backpack, spread it on a open space in front of a local shop, I laid down, resting my head on the Backpack. Gulped down some Rum, put on the Hoods and I was ready to sleep on the streets of Gaggal. And, I slept. 4:30, I opened my eyes to see a guy staring at me smiling. I smiled back, and asked him how to reach Mcleodganj. He said, 1st bus will come around 6:30 am, its better to take a Taxi. He called someone, and a car arrived within 10mins. For 600bucks, he will drop me to Mcleodganj. I had already booked, Backpacker’s Inn. Went there, and no one was awake yet, so, Sat on the staircase, outside the Inn till 7am. Then the caretaker came out. My booking was from 1pm in the noon. So, there was sometime left, he opened up a room and asked me to freshen up for now. Once the boarder from Last night leaves the Dorm, I will get my bed. ☺ I moved in the room and slept till 9:30am.

Day 7 :

9:30 am, I got up and moved to the Dorm. There I found my new roommates, Geraldine from Spain whom I’ll call G and Mailen from Argentina, whom I’ll call M. G asked me, if I would be willing to join them for breakfast. Well, never said No, I said yes. :D

We went to a food joint, and ordered our breakfast. English one. :D

There, two friends of my new acquainted friend joined in Nathalie (Nat) from France and now settled in LA and Emran (Em) from Bangladesh.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 11/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

We talked over our breakfast and decided to go to Shiva Café, which is like a 10-12 kms trek from the heart of Mcleodganj. Well, what I thought to be a walk in the park, and it was for the first part of our journey, turn out to be a Mud, boulder and uneven stair filled road to the up. After 30mins, I was literally gasping for breath, and my legs started giving in. Till now, whatever trek I have done, were hikes on land. Stairs were taking out every last drop of my energy. And still there was a good five kilometer to travel. Haven’t slept well for last two nights and was out of breathe.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 12/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

G on the other hand was a superwoman. She was climbing, literally running and strafing. M, Nat and Em were climbing too, but G was on another level.

And there I was, lagging at the back, gasping for air and numb legs, I was having a tough time. But, I was determined to be there to smoke at Shiva Shanti Café. :D

I made it through. I sat there and relaxed. Smoking and having a cup of tea. The others, in my group decided to go further. I knew, I couldn’t. Atleast, not today. I sat at the café, waiting for them. I took out my diary again. I started writing.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 13/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

I was there for 3 hours. I met 2 guys from France. Well, pretty old, 60+. We started talking, I offered them my Rum and they shared their joints. They have a different perspective of life. They think Buddha has already arrived again, and somewhere in this earth. Safe. Waiting for his time to reappear. Assembling a team of good men, who will remove Poverty, will start providing roofs, education, clothes to people. Will snatch away excess wealth from the corrupt distribute among poor. I was sure, they were high. But, they showed me their website. And asked me to go through it.

I, being the Political guy around, asked, Aren’t you talking about socialism ? They said no. That’s Buddha. :D

I was really liking this conversation between them and I, the Atheist.

I asked, aren’t there already enough problems in this earth ? Why isn’t he coming yet ?

They said smiling, our time, is not his time. He will appear when the time is right. We might not be able to watch him. You are young, you just might. May be, not.


This baffled me. How, people are happy believing things so simple, yet so complicated.

My friends were coming back from the top, we started the descend. G, like always, was coming downhill, running. ☺

There was a sunset on the way.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 14/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

We reached Mcleodganj, just around the time, it was getting dark. There was a wedding going on, and my friends were interested in crashing into that. We did. Had our share of food and dance. :P

Photo of Himachal Diaries 15/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee
Photo of Himachal Diaries 16/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

We went to our room to freshen up. And join others at the terrace. With our bottle of rum.

We met two Aussies there, Justin and Danial, fun guys. Had a lot of talks about nearly everything.

Justin, went a little high after having his share of Rum after his beer. But, we had a deep conversation about life. Too deep, I guess.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 17/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Went to bed, nearly at 2am. To wake up next morning at 6am.

Day 8 :

I was determined to go to Triund. I knew that the road will be tough. But, I had to.

I had my breakfast and set out. I was about to take on this road alone. All alone.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 18/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

So, the first hour went fine. I was walking slow and steady, for I have learnt, they win races. Second hour, my legs were aching, but, I was not out of breathe. Rested for 15mins, refueled. No Smoking, on the way up.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 19/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Set out again, the third hour was good, passed without any major issues.

Fourth hour, I started gasping for air again, legs aching like hell, even my back was stiff. It felt, I was not going to make it. And, the worst thing, I knew there is still an hour and half left. Rested half an hour. And I had to set out again. I cannot go back from here. After coming, 4 hours, I simply couldn’t let it go.

Fifth hour, I thought , I was going to have a break down. My legs were trembling. And I was out of breathe. My mouth was drying up every 5 minutes. But, I had to go. I had to go to the top, to look down.

I was feeling broken. But, you cannot break a broken man. I crawled. I crawled on my hands and foot. Resting myself, after every ten-fifteen minutes.

Sixth hour, I was at the top. Covered in dust. I washed my face with the water I was left with.

What’s dead, may never die. The feeling, that I was feeling, was complementary.

Yes, I was there.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 20/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Coming down was lot easier to the body. What I climbed in 6 hours, I descended in 1.5 hours. But, my legs were trembling. And every part of my body was aching. But, as I said, there is no breaking a broken man. I survived.

I had a bus to catch, to Delhi.

On my way to the bus stop, I found another amazing Sunset.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 21/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

The bus was supposed to leave Mcleodganj at 7pm. I reached there at 6:45. That was a Volvo bus.

Comfortable seats. I met 2 interesting guys here. Liam from Edinburgh and Kanti from Kolkata, later came to know, he was an actor. He played an important role, in Tasher Desh. Our conversations went on around, the depression. Three of us, had this thing in common, I feel. This conversation didn’t last long. I was dead drop tired, as soon as the bus started moving, I went to my seat. Slept. Like a log. Nothing much happened.

Day 9:

Reached Delhi around, 5:30am. Took a tuk tuk, shared with Kanti. He got off at Hauz Khas, I went to Mnadpackers again. I checked in and slept. Later in the evening, I was meeting my best friend from my school days. She was in Agra , to attend a friend's wedding. We had plans to roam around Delhi, but, she being she, lost her camera in an auto and we spent the evening at the police station, lodging FIR. Then, went on a little food tour. From chaats of Delhi streets to ice creams then checked into Odean Social at Canaught Place, and had nearly every alcohol out there.!!!

Well, we had our past. From fighting to laughter. But, we survived the fall.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 22/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Went to my hostel around 1:30am. And there were people chatting on the terrace. And I joined in. Had our share of drink and finally retired to bed.

Day 10:

Woke up around 9. Had my breakfast. Hostel was nearly empty, the boarders were touring Agra, arrangements were done by the hostel. I met a guy, called Peter. A Belgian. Who cycled his way from Bangalore to Delhi. And was now heading towards Manali. Not on his cycle. He was going by bus. Nice guy. He was in love with Indian spices, and we had Biriyani from the streets. He liked it.

Was going to meet Payel, my childhood best friend, again. For a tour of old Delhi. From Paranthe waali Gaali, to Jama masjid's Quereshi kebabs. The stark difference between New Delhi and the Old one, is quite similar to North and South Kolkata. Posh locale vs the narrow busy streets. Armani suits vs the Lungis. Prada bags vs the Jute Sacs. :). Unity in diversity, they said. We saw.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 23/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee
Photo of Himachal Diaries 24/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee
Photo of Himachal Diaries 25/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

She had her flight in couple of hours, so she had to go to her hotel and pick up her bags, no camera this time.!!! :D

Next, I was meeting Ritu. She is the next awesome person, I have ever met. Yes, I know, this is getting boring now. We talked too. For a long time. About things, best not to discussed over a blog.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 26/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

We were roaming around, gulping down street foods. From aloo chats to momo’s to pastries. We both have been going through tough time for different reasons, I feel. We will survive, eventually.

Remember the old saying, what doesn’t kill is makes us stronger ? Absolutely, but it leaves certain scar behind.

"And scars are souvenir, you never lose...

Past is never far..

Did you lose yourself somewhere out there ..

Did you get to be a star"

Next, person I was about to meet was Vèra. From Czech Republic. Well, this is tough. We were good friends back in days. But, then, something snapped. And for months we start having our differences. Having differences, is not a bad thing. But, the way, it started coming up was unwanted.  And, we decided to meet, eventually, after a lots of fight, as well. We were too busy talking over the drinks, forgot to click the pictures. !!! Doesn’t matter. What I thought would be another fight, turned out to be the opposite. We had our discussions on what-not. Politics to religion to Literature to RabindraSangeet. We drank till 2am.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 27/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

I had my flight to Kolkata at 5am. So, she dropped me to the airport around 3am. We bade good bye.:)

Day 11:

Reached Kolkata, around 7:30 am.

The normal travel blogs, ends here.


I was happy after a long time. I was not thinking. I was having a good time.

But, every morning has a night, except for, if you are living in Norway.

But noway, I was living in Norway.

A single message came by.

No, I was not depressed anymore.

I was not angry.

I was not sad.

I was hurt. But, that’s what people do.

But me, I was a changed person, when I came back.

I am from the land of Rabindranath, Nazrul, Sukanta, Manik Bandyopadhyay, Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Seen, Rwithik Ghatak. Even if we are hurt, we turn those into sketches, poems, stories and with resources, into films. We won’t retaliate, until our Language or sovereignty is under attack. We absorb everything.

Back to routine.


I will be going out soon.

Will be writing again.

I apologize, if this was too long, and if you didn’t find what you are looking for, the adventure and the thrills and the parties.

Sometimes, life pushes you down. All you have to do is to wait.

Time. It’s not the right time, yet.

But, don't stop believing. Don;t give up on people, just yet.

Gurbaksh ji taught me well.

 Don’t look back in anger.

For “Times they're a changing”.

Photo of Himachal Diaries 28/28 by Ritabrata Mukherjee

Every story, don’t need to have happy endings. We have started expecting every chapter of our life, to have happy endings. Blame it on the movies or the social media. Having a fair share of both helps. Good times give you smile. Bad times will give you experiences, that will last for lifetime.