I bend down to collect a fistful of the icy cold river. As the river swelled over the boulders, my heart did too, with happiness. After an hour long rendezvous with the river, it was time to head back to Lachung, but not before shopping for woollens made by locals.
Back to Lachung : for cooking and celebrations.
The sun had not peeped out the whole day, and as I made the journey back to Lachung, catching raindrops on my outstretched palm, I did not miss it. It was one of those clumsy rainy days that grow onto you slowly and make you fall in love with raindrops pelting on your face as you walk in the mist.