This morning, we have been promised of a magical feat- to see cars defy gravity. After a very mellow day, we are all more excited than usual.
However, we first stop at the Military's Hall of Fame. A museum that explains to us how the Indian borders are being protected day in and day out, by our soldiers. We see videos and exhibits about how the soldiers train, braving the cruel weather and unforgiving peaks. We learn of the history and culture of Ladakh. For the first time in my life, it hits me how much these unknown faces sacrifice for our well being. But how do we, nestled safely in our homes behave? By looting, raping and exploiting each other. A sense of sadness clings to me. Along with astonishment at my own profoundness. Wow. I know, right?
With this new-found insight about myself, I am whisked away by our car to the Magnetic Hill, which boasts that from a particular point, the vehicles move upward on a downward slope. The drivers stop for the demo, puts the car on neutral gear and lets go of the steering wheel. We all hold our breath. And the car moves downwards. Our hearts break, our heads refuse to accept defeat. We make the driver do it again and again. We finally console ourselves saying the slope is bare minimum, so it must be something that's pulling the car. Some elderly drivers scoff and laugh at our wishful conclusion.
Much much later, Google tells us that the point is actually an optical illusion. Surrounded by mountains on all sides, the lack of a visible horizon tricks the mind and makes people think the slope is upwards. But we are no ordinary humans, I guess. Our minds are simply too sharp to be cheated. Ha!
But right now, we are all putting on a brave face. And we are hungry. Just in time,we pull up to a Gurudhwara. The Sikh temple is huge and beautiful - and pretty much in the middle of nowhere. We find out why- legend has it that there was once a demon living on that very hill, terrorizing the villagers who lived at its foot hill. Guru Nanak, during His travels, came across this village and sought rest. When the villagers told Him of their demon shaped problem, He sat at the foot hill, praying and meditating. The demon, angry that anybody would want to pray against its endearing form and charm, pushed a boulder down to smash him. But the boulder magically softened like a marshmallow and just became deformed when it hit Him. The angry demon walked down and kicked the boulder, only to have a foot shaped dent form on the boulder. The demon realized Guru Nanak's greatness, apologized for being a big meanie, and turned into the friendly-next-door-demon who helps fold laundry and fetch water.
And this very Gurudhwara houses this magical boulder.
Now I am telling this story in great detail because it appeals to my sense of mystic. And also because I find it very funny to imagine a demon kick into a boulder and get its leg stuck in there. I, in fact, have a whole cartoon running in my head now.
So with a goofy grin on my face, I turn to leave when the volunteers stop us and ask us to have lunch. The grin growing bigger, we proceed to the lunch hall. We are served with a very simple menu, and very ordinary dishes- yet they all taste marvelous We wonder at how the meal is so simple, yet mind blowing. My sense of mystic tingles once again. How much food can make a person happy, the husband and I give a contended sigh.
After the lunch and some dessert and tea, and with a more happier mindset, we move to the Sangam. Its the point where the Zanskar river and the Indus river merge, and flow on as the greater Indus. And the whole route leading up to the point is beautiful. Brown and sandy mountains, capped with white snow; green patches of land kneeling near their feet and lapping up water from their sparkling, tiny streams flowing around them- you know, the whole works - again a sight that no camera can truly capture.
We finally reach the Sangam. We are delighted to spot the clear demarcation between the rivers till the point they merge. We decide to walk along the bank of the deceptively calm and peaceful river. How some monkey like antics led to my pants getting ripped at the knee, I will not elaborate. Inner poise, apparently, is not one of my strong points. But it is, over all, an inner peace evoking evening.
We reach back home and decide to while the evening away in the market. We discover a quaint little roof top restaurant, which boasts of an 'interesting' view of Leh. And it is. As we sit there, sipping our mint-lemon tea and eating the indescribable paneer pakodas, that the husband and I realize how unconventionally idyllic this place is. And how, given the chance, we can lead a simple yet fulfilling life if we stay here. So we spend the rest of the evening making plans to open a south Indian restaurant here and settle down; far, far away from our 9 to 5 jobs in the concrete jungles.
However, we first stop at the Military's Hall of Fame. A museum that explains to us how the Indian borders are being protected day in and day out, by our soldiers. We see videos and exhibits about how the soldiers train, braving the cruel weather and unforgiving peaks. We learn of the history and culture of Ladakh. For the first time in my life, it hits me how much these unknown faces sacrifice for our well being. But how do we, nestled safely in our homes behave? By looting, raping and exploiting each other. A sense of sadness clings to me. Along with astonishment at my own profoundness. Wow. I know, right?
With this new-found insight about myself, I am whisked away by our car to the Magnetic Hill, which boasts that from a particular point, the vehicles move upward on a downward slope. The drivers stop for the demo, puts the car on neutral gear and lets go of the steering wheel. We all hold our breath. And the car moves downwards. Our hearts break, our heads refuse to accept defeat. We make the driver do it again and again. We finally console ourselves saying the slope is bare minimum, so it must be something that's pulling the car. Some elderly drivers scoff and laugh at our wishful conclusion.
Much much later, Google tells us that the point is actually an optical illusion. Surrounded by mountains on all sides, the lack of a visible horizon tricks the mind and makes people think the slope is upwards. But we are no ordinary humans, I guess. Our minds are simply too sharp to be cheated. Ha!
But right now, we are all putting on a brave face. And we are hungry. Just in time,we pull up to a Gurudhwara. The Sikh temple is huge and beautiful - and pretty much in the middle of nowhere. We find out why- legend has it that there was once a demon living on that very hill, terrorizing the villagers who lived at its foot hill. Guru Nanak, during His travels, came across this village and sought rest. When the villagers told Him of their demon shaped problem, He sat at the foot hill, praying and meditating. The demon, angry that anybody would want to pray against its endearing form and charm, pushed a boulder down to smash him. But the boulder magically softened like a marshmallow and just became deformed when it hit Him. The angry demon walked down and kicked the boulder, only to have a foot shaped dent form on the boulder. The demon realized Guru Nanak's greatness, apologized for being a big meanie, and turned into the friendly-next-door-demon who helps fold laundry and fetch water.
And this very Gurudhwara houses this magical boulder.
Now I am telling this story in great detail because it appeals to my sense of mystic. And also because I find it very funny to imagine a demon kick into a boulder and get its leg stuck in there. I, in fact, have a whole cartoon running in my head now.
So with a goofy grin on my face, I turn to leave when the volunteers stop us and ask us to have lunch. The grin growing bigger, we proceed to the lunch hall. We are served with a very simple menu, and very ordinary dishes- yet they all taste marvelous We wonder at how the meal is so simple, yet mind blowing. My sense of mystic tingles once again. How much food can make a person happy, the husband and I give a contended sigh.
After the lunch and some dessert and tea, and with a more happier mindset, we move to the Sangam. Its the point where the Zanskar river and the Indus river merge, and flow on as the greater Indus. And the whole route leading up to the point is beautiful. Brown and sandy mountains, capped with white snow; green patches of land kneeling near their feet and lapping up water from their sparkling, tiny streams flowing around them- you know, the whole works - again a sight that no camera can truly capture.
We finally reach the Sangam. We are delighted to spot the clear demarcation between the rivers till the point they merge. We decide to walk along the bank of the deceptively calm and peaceful river. How some monkey like antics led to my pants getting ripped at the knee, I will not elaborate. Inner poise, apparently, is not one of my strong points. But it is, over all, an inner peace evoking evening.
We reach back home and decide to while the evening away in the market. We discover a quaint little roof top restaurant, which boasts of an 'interesting' view of Leh. And it is. As we sit there, sipping our mint-lemon tea and eating the indescribable paneer pakodas, that the husband and I realize how unconventionally idyllic this place is. And how, given the chance, we can lead a simple yet fulfilling life if we stay here. So we spend the rest of the evening making plans to open a south Indian restaurant here and settle down; far, far away from our 9 to 5 jobs in the concrete jungles.
