Back in 2017, right after the end of my freshman year at college, I went on a short spontaneous trip to the Kangra Valley.

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Preface

It was 6 in the morning when the bus reached Sonipat. As I got off and bid farewell to what had been my ride for the last 9 hours or so, a soft, cool breeze hit me, rekindling a series of happy memories. It was as if I was dancing, with my mood swinging between happy and sad. I was happy because I had just completed my first solo trip, and sad because the trip was over. Between the outflow of emotions, suddenly fear joined the party. It had just occurred to me that it’s 6 in the morning, which meant that there would be no people around on the track that led to my college. Best plot for the stray dogs to attack. In the next 10 minutes, I evaluated my odds of reaching safe and finally gathered some courage, walking straight to the Campus with a blank face. On my way, I indeed was greeted by the dreaded canines, but they didn’t seem to care much, looking rather cute to be harmful. I thanked God (?) for being kind that morning and danced my way into the campus.

The last few days had seen a similar cycle of emotions. I switched between​ being happy and sad after my summer break started, planning my first solo trip (to a random unknown place) alongside and finally fighting through all apprehensions to complete the trip. Here’s my story…

Chapter 1: The sleeper class

It all began with the end of my sophomore year at college. Having made my peace with the expected average grades, I was sort of excited about the three months vacation that lay ahead. While the holidays kicked off on the 13th of May, I had another three weeks before I could leave for home because of a programme I was a part of. With most of my friends leaving, and homesickness trying to take over my happy mind space, I started fiddling around with the idea of the solo trip that was long due.

What initially started out to be a 3/4 day trip up north with a short trek into the Himalayas, went through several changes in plan before I finally came across the Kangra Valley Railways, a 164-km corridor passing through the Dhauladhar range of the Himalayas and one of the five Mountain Railways of India. The Kangra Valley Railways are also nominated for being considered as a UNESCO World Heritage Site by the Indian Government.

The very idea of moving through the outer Himalayas in a train hit a strong chord with me. I could see my happy self, singing songs while looking out of the window of the train, into the mountains and the river underneath! I spent the next couple of hours doing my preliminary research before finally deciding to plan my trip to Kangra, a small city situated in the outer Himalayan ranges.

The plan was simple; I had to take a train from Delhi to Pathankot, from where the Kangra Valley Railway started. I decided to stay a night in Pathankot and catch the Kangra Valley train-which was the highlight of my trip- from Pathankot Railway Station the next morning. I planned to stay a day in Kangra before taking a bus back to Sonipat and reaching campus after exactly 72 hours of starting the trip. With tickets booked, I was all set to go!

I left campus early in the morning to reach the Old Delhi Station from where I was to catch my train to Pathankot. This was the second time I was travelling in the sleeper class, which I have realised is the most efficient way to travel across India. The sleeper class is cheap, and the open windows and doors create a deeper sense of belonging with the journey, making every such journey a memorable experience. After several hours of gazing into green fields and busy railway stations, I reached Pathankot at around 7 in the evening. The only time I had heard about the city before starting this trip was when it had witnessed a terrorist attack in January, last year. This coupled with little to no lighting on the streets made that part of the city seem rather shady. The dirty linen and smallish hotel room just added to the shady image I had created of the city in my head, which was already scaring me out. Despite the negativity that had flared up in my mind, I managed to get a sound sleep through the night.

I woke up early enough to see the rising sun as I walked across the neighbourhood of my hotel. To my surprise, with the daylight in action, Pathankot looked just like any other Indian city, ever energetic and bustling with people. Perhaps, it was my apprehension about the trip that gave way to all the dark thoughts the past night. With the rejuvenated excitement, I checked out of the hotel and got my ticket to travel across the valley!

Chapter 2: In the First Compartment

I found myself flaunting a broad smile when I first saw the ride that would take me to Kangra, a beautiful train. Unlike the regular passenger trains it had a diesel run engine that headed four compartments. The engine resembled one of those shown in cartoon shows, it was a real beauty, something you wouldn’t want to take your eyes off of. As it stood there, elegantly waiting to depart, I checked each of the four compartments for an empty seat before settling by the door of the first compartment, which would be my vantage point from where I was going to witness the spectacular Kangra Valley.

Just before the train left the Pathankot station, the rain gods(?) decided to bless us mortals with what seemed to be the first shower of the year. As the train slowly caught up speed and the city made way for the beautiful valley, I stood by the door and looked into the beautiful scenery. I went through a phase of introspection. With the showers making the weather soothing and the occasional splash of rain drops romanticising the valley, I involuntarily got lost in thoughts only to be occasionally distracted by the little kids who enthusiastically waved at the train as it passed by their houses. The thoughts focussed on a range of things; from absurd things like the stream of water dripping down on the floor from the roof of the train to deeper ones like the meaning of life! I took a moment to pat myself on the back for having decided to come on the trip. I was overwhelmed with the emotions that were flaring up…

Putting things that followed into words seems like a rather difficult task. The mesmerising view of the mountains and the river flowing below was a constant through the journey that lasted some 5 hours. With only two tunnels built in the entire 164 Kms long corridor, the Kangra Valley Railways is an engineering marvel that makes it seem like an extension of nature. The sound of the moving train beautifully mingles with the serene surroundings, as if it were a harmonious jugalbandhi in the making. While the train journey was spellbinding for wanderers like me; for the middle-age police constable, the school going boy, the old woman and other locals, it was a regular affair and nothing more than just a mode of transport…

The idea of the same thing being something otherworldly for me while being considered mundane by the locals was fascinating. As I tried dwelling deeper into it, I realised that its human nature to get tuned to the monotone of life. I, for one, have gotten used to having cars and concrete around me. The small school going kid, however, awed on learning that I am from Delhi and shot me with endless questions. Like me, the locals here were accustomed to the beauty of the valley around them, making the train journey just a part of their routine.

As the train lazily arrived at my final station and I got off and waited for it to leave. Just like the kids, I waved at the train one last time, thanking it for the amazing experience, and then headed into the city…

Chapter 3: The Ruins of Kangra

It was a lazy Wednesday evening, and the rains had followed me from Pathankot to Kangra. Completely clueless on how to spend the 36 hours I had before my bus to Delhi, I crashed as soon as I reached my hotel room. As I woke up and exploited the complimentary hotel wifi, I discovered some fascinating facts. Apparently, Kangra was set up by the Katoch clan of the Rajputs, who claim to be the oldest surviving royal dynasty in India. As I explored further, I came to know about the Kangra fort, said to be the largest fort in the Himalayas and the oldest dated in India. My discovery had tingled the history buff in me, and I knew exactly what I had to do next!

Next morning, I checked out of the hotel and hiked towards the Kangra Fort. My first stop was the Maharaja Sansaar Chand Museum located 100 meters away from the main fort. The entrance of the museum had a plank that read ‘The one who has the fort, has Kangra,’ excited as a kid, I moved into the museum. As I added to my understanding of the history of the fort that had seen invasions and attacks by popular figures from history, namely, Mahmud of Ghazni, Akbar, and Jehangir, my curiosity rose. After grabbing my lunch from the restaurant attached to the Museum and waiting for a couple of hours for the sun to dim down, I went into the fort.

I hiked up the fort listening to an audio guide that (although annoying at times) continuously provided interesting anecdotes and facts about the fort. The passages through the centuries old fort, which had been ruined by an earthquake that had severely affected this part of the country in 1905, spoke or rather enacted stories of their own. It was a surreal experience with the wind flowing strong and historical characters popping up and giving a tough time to my imagination. I could hear the choirs of the good times and the war cries echoing through the fort; such profound was the experience walking through the ruined old fort.

I climbed on to the terrace and was greeted by a spectacular view of the entire valley and the city that lay a few hundred meters away. I could only imagine what it would have been to live in a palace such beautifully nestled amidst the maginificent Kangra valley… As I stood there, scenes from my short Himalayan trip flashed by me, I indeed felt like a King who had it all…had the fort and had Kangra!

Epilogue

I have always loved nature. It started with the trees and has now expanded into the waters, mountains, and skies with each interaction. I am not the kind of lover who remembers their names, indeed pretty forgetful. I know them by the looks though, but even that gets complicated as there are just so many of the beautiful ones out there.

One thing I have observed about my relationship with nature is that the distance has been growing between the two of us. The night sky does not glitter with the stars I loved the most in the dusty town I live in these days, neither do the greens of the trees dance with the blowing wind. I have travelled to quite a few places in the last two years of college, and many of them have been just to meet my dearest nature, as it has gone beyond the reach of a small walk from me. This short vacation too was an attempt to visit the greens, the glittering skies, the magnificent mountains and the graceful waters of the rivers.

Does it hurt to live so far away from all of the things I love dearly? Yes. So much for the comfort of our cities plagued with concrete. As I wait for my next trip to some place where nature is, I cannot help but ponder on a question, ‘What good is all the concrete if it doesn’t have space for my greens and shuns away the night stars?’ I do not know and there is a chance that I never will. Do you?

Thanks to Varsha Ramachandran for reading earlier drafts and helping with the edits. This was origially published on my Medium Blog.