Phalut: Meadowlands of the East - Intro

When I opened my eyes I could see soft, diffused light filtering through the tunnel of trees. Flowers that had blossomed the previous night, had fallen on my lap, on my clothes and on the ground that had turned into colours of pink, yellow and blue. Birds chirped in the air and a few cold streaks of light had cut across the pre-dawn sky. A new morning was just getting started. The rustling of leaves in the wind, the moist creepers, smell of the dead camp fire, smoky fog, smell of a brew arising from somewhere and the cold ground and the soaked earth felt unreal. A gust of wind swept through the meadow floor and it brought with it, the invigorating air. The creek that carried some snow from the past night gurgled over pebbles.

Was it a wakeup call? A moment to pause?

A lot of curiosity and questions, which I couldn’t answer, arose in my mind. So, I set out for a small discovery around the place until I reached a couple of empty wooden chairs soaked in the overnight dew almost dripping wet.

It was then that I heard “I rarely have a visitor here and the few who end up at my doors are the ones who have either lost their way in the wilderness or had exhausted themselves in their search”, a voice boomed behind me.

I turned around, searching for who it was that owned his magical land and then saw a Buddhist monk, a lama, standing behind me. He had light, watery and blue eyes that shone in the dawn sun and a face that radiated warmth and energy. His gaze seemed to pierce right through me. He stood there, silent, but the place seemed to resonate with thunder.

I didn’t know which category of visitor I belonged to. But I knew that my journey had reached its completion.

Trekkers hut at Phalut