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Published: June 24th 2018
Kalpa
Kinnaud District, Himachal Pradesh, India
June 2018
“Om gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha”
The Great Tibetan Mantra “Since death alone is certain and the time of death uncertain, what should I do?”
Reflective meditation … Stephen Batchelor in 'Buddhism Without Beliefs. A contemporary guide to awakening' Definition of the word 'Kalpa': “An immense period of time (over 4,000 million years) considered to be the length of a single cycle of the cosmos (or 'day of Brahma') from creation to dissolution”
Kalpa is a small town sitting high above the Sutlej river valley, requiring a 20 km ride up from the main road that heads north towards Spiti Valley. The local Kinnauri people practice a mix of Hinduism and Buddhism. From the narrow lanes of Kalpa and the temple courtyards, a clear day reveals the magnificence of the Himalayas in Tibet across the other side of the valley.
I had traveled to Spiti Valley twice but failed (through ignorance and haste)
to ever visit Kalpa. I fancied a good motorbike ride (as one does from time to time) and knew that the road from my 'home' in Kullu District to Kalpa was a mere 180 km and 7 hours along a stunning valley of smooth riding and wonderful corners (as is my delight). I can never quite believe the time it takes to travel in India. The 7 hours did include a stop for breakfast at Ani (about 40 km from 'home') and a couple of
chai stops as well. But still..... My top speed was about 85 kph but then there are many ups and downs and corners along the way, plus bits of road every so often that had been washed away by earth slides and were under repair. Traffic was not bad, but some congestion going through Rampur (about 100 km from 'home'). The great thing is that on a bike in India, anything goes really and it's pretty easy to wind through traffic and get clear of it.
I am mindful that each time I ride on these roads I take my life in my hands... but of course I don't. My ego would
like to so believe. While I am careful while being adventurous and pushing the corners for pure pleasure, what is it that determines our time of death? It's beyond our reckoning obviously, and can only point us to the awareness of being here now as fully as we can.
I had expectations about Kalpa... from what friends had mentioned and my research, as a
shanti (peaceful) place where I might just spend some days relaxing. I was not disappointed. The ride was magnificent and Kalpa was a treat.
I quickly enough found a room after being approached by Anshwin in the small main square of town. It had the basics … hot water, bathroom, comfortable mattress, clean sheet (and an extra top sheet after negotiation), and two warm blankets, and ample room for practicing yoga. While the floor was not yet covered, it was clean and the second blanket served as my carpet. Anshwin explained that in fact the place was virtually new but had been completed three years ago but just left empty by a distracted owner. Anshwin had just taken over on a month to month lease basis and I was the
first guest to use this room. That the balcony and view was on the wrong side for the mountain peaks was disappointing... but I didn't need to go far for those views. Anshwin would not budge on 500 rps a night (about 7.5 euros; I tried for 400 as is my wont) … and in the end of course it was fine.
What I didn't realise at first was that my room was right in the precinct of Kalpa's main and oldest temples. Being a small village, everything was close and there was now enough tourist interest developing (specially as part of the emergent Indian middle class tourist boom) to ensure there were ample
dabas (small local eating houses) and well stocked stores.
I mixed up my eating between mangoes (now in season and beyond description for their taste sensation) and curd and bananas in the morning taken in my room, self-brewed coffee (but yes... instant), digestive biscuits (always a favourite) and taken in the dabas
thukpa (a Tibetan noodle soup) and
tali (stock standard rice and chapatti and lentils and veg)
. My first day in Kalpa was spent in the
temples while gazing often at the clear peaks across the way. The wood carving is exquisite. What is apparent, as with so many of the older villages in Himachal, is the gradual disappearance of the really old and ornate buildings... simply a case of disrepair and people's aspirations for modern comforts and the high cost involved in maintaining and restoring old buildings. Kalpa like many could well be a UNESCO site if there had been vision and application. To have preserved the centre of this town would have proved to be an absolute boon for tourism into the future. What is left is beautiful none-the-less... but for how long?
Kalpa is famous for it's apple orchids. I took a long walk through the surrounding tree-lined lanes often following little rivulets or irrigation channels. All seemed relative to me as I wandered alone. I could be here, or there... or wherever. To be here though is wonderful and I am amazed with it all.
I bought my supplies in a small general store run by 48 year old Raju, who was a frustrated bachelor looking for a wife. In fact his preference (not so unusual)
was for a foreign wife. We talked a lot (he said he wanted to 'explore' me... meaning my mind) and it became apparent that from an early age Raju had spent all day (8 am to 10 pm) every day in his store. He quickly pointed out that he was not rich... and could not afford to stop. The suppliers of goods he said were simply 'using me as a puppet to sell their products'. He said he only made a couple of rupees on each item... and that made sense as all prices on manufactured goods are fixed. So in effect, Raju had never had the time to seek a wife... and now he felt stuck as he aged … with no prospects. I counseled him against seeking a foreign wife... far too risky for any longevity given the mismatch of culture and aspirations. Despite this he asked if I ever came across a 'prospect' to send her his way.
On my way up to Kalpa a small nail had embedded itself in my back tyre... so when it was time to leave Kalpa I was faced with a flat. No garages or workshops here... only
10 km down the mountain in Reckong Peo. Anshwin was having none of my plan to just slowly and carefully coast down and had made some calls. After about 30 minutes his mate turns up in a late model car and gets out his electric pump from the boot. Magic. I make it to Reckong.... and an hour and 800 rps later I have a repaired back tyre, new back brake shoes, new back wheel central bearing ring, a 'fix' to my right loose foot pedal, and a new air filter. Not to mention a great egg
parantha (flat unleavened bread stuffed with potato) for breakfast at the
daba next door (not included in the 800 rps).
The ride back was as magnificence as the ride to Kalpa... only a different perspective of course.
More pics below
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Marguerite
non-member comment
Sensational lovey !!! I am yearning to go there and experience the beauty and adventure, including the winding, adventurous road, the apple orchids, the parantha and maybe meet Raju :) Glad Gladys was all fixed up. More green hugs!!! Unfortunately, some of the photos didn't load!