Ladakh: A quest for happiness.

This isn't one of those heavily itinerary based write-ups, it's not going to give you a day-by-day and cost wise break down of a trip. Why? Simply because this trip is so close to my heart that I do not wish to reduce it to days and budgets (it was an extremely budgeted trip, if you must know). So if you do decide to read on further, do so with an open heart because that is the only way you can make the best out of every travel experience.

I seldom visit a place twice especially if it is 11,562 ft. above sea level, but Ladakh is the only exception to the rule so far. Hence, this had to be one of the first things I’d write about. I’ve been to Ladakh twice and yet I find myself sitting home on a rainy Saturday afternoon, longing to feel the way I felt amidst those mountains. Of course, you may think that’s obvious given its picturesque landscapes and quaint life which also attracts thousands of tourists to these rugged mountains (especially after Bollywood made it “cool”), but that is something that everyone talks about. What allures my heart back to Ladakh is it’s people. The beauty of a place sure makes it an experience, but the time you spend with the people there is what makes it memorable. This is my minuscule attempt at showing gratitude to the people I met through my trip, especially the family that hosted me. Its these encounters that made me realise how simplicity is at the crux of finding happiness. These memories are what I take back home to an otherwise busy city where simplicity is often lost.

No matter how many times I plan on visiting Leh, the one thing I'm certain of is where I would choose to stay and that is Dokpa Guest House (number given at the end of this write-up). I’ve travelled across India but I’ve never felt so attached to a place and the people I’ve lived with. Dokpa is a humble but gorgeous homestay nestled in the valley of Shey, Leh. It is owned by an endearing middle-aged man named Phunsuk (talk about coincidences) who lives there with his wife and mother. A disclaimer though, they do not have WiFi, at least when I went last they didn't, which for me was perfect because a digital cleanse can feel so good! Anyway, Phunsuk is a modest man with a simple life and a smile that never fades. He’d address me as ‘beti’ (daughter) and let me explore around the house as if it were my own. I was welcomed into their kitchen, hall, garden, everywhere. I have always believed in trying authentic cuisine when I visit a new place and I was lucky enough to be hosted by a family that was as hospitable as this one. Phunsuk and his wife prepared some amazing Ladakhi dishes for me which were so simple and yet so delectable. Side note, if you happen to stay there, do ask for Thukpa and Ladakhi chai, it is to die for!

On my last day there, I had time to kill so I’d go sit with their mother, a 94 years old woman at that time, whose smile could melt metal! I was told by Phunsuk that even at that age, she would walk 24 kilometres everyday to and from the nearest monastery to pray, which is quite an unimaginable feat even for me. For a woman her age, she sure could hand out really tight hugs and it’s the warmest, sweetest gesture ever. At Dokpa I felt like I was home and surrounded with so much love that I was literally in tears the day I had to leave. Even as I write this, I’m overwhelmed at how warm I feel reminiscing back to that experience.

Although this is a narration of my experience with just my host family, everyone else there is equally warm even though they may not speak the same language as you. I assure you that you will be welcomed with the same smile and warmth that I was.