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Published: June 24th 2017
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Himachal Pradesh June 2017 “The basis of peace of mind is to be content with what one has and thus to be in harmony with the world at large....
The root of light is Nothingness
The source of all movement is Stillness
The source of all sound is Silence”
Ramesh Balsekar 'Advaita on Zen and Tao' “The primordial purity of the ground completely transcends words, concepts, and formulations”
Jamgon Kongtrul 'Myriad Worlds' I have entered a veritable moonscape on my way to Losar. Both the vistas and the changing light bring me into glimpses of awareness.... of relativity... of the reality of now and the bliss of just being in a place in time that defies description. I have only myself to share this with, apart from the phenomenon of writing about it here.
The landscapes remind me of Kapadokya in Turkey. But what a folly... to always seek comparisons. Here is here. Now is now. To begin to compare is to take me from here and now. Mind chatter. Whatever.
The rain threatens and I play with it... I have rain gear but I gamble to arrive at Losar dry in defiance. Just short of Losar it starts.. but very lightly and I make it without resort to the rain gear.
Losar is 4,079 metres above sea level, boasts about 250 residents, and is the very last village in Spiti Valley on the way to Manali. There is a 'Welcome to Spiti Valley' gate at the edge of town and also the last police check post. From here I face Kunzum pass and 140 km of unforgiving bad roads to Manali. At first impression Losar seems to be a desolate place offering over-priced guest house accommodation and not much more. But I am tricked by the mood evoked by the rain clouds, my weariness, the mud on the unsealed road through town, and the time it takes me to find a room that is half the price of all the others. When I then stop to look around … the sky has cleared.... I discover that in the now sun soaked evening I am in an amazingly beautiful valley surrounded by snow peaks. It was always thus,
Fit for a turkey box slide
As a kid on my dad's chicken farm, we used to slide down grass slopes using large empty cardboard turkey boxes as sleds. Great fun
but my perceptions said otherwise.
I take a walk up the hill to the local monastery. I am astounded by the richness within. There are perhaps 100 old
thankas adorning the walls. Each is intricate and colourful and precious. I continue up behind the monastery and delight in the expansive views down and across the valley, and up to the peaks now catching the particular light of sunset. All is changing before me as the fading sun teaches me again of passing things and moments that defy description.
I have found a great room... in an otherwise gloomy guest house. Mine has full wall windows on two sides. I do my usual furniture rearrangements to allow a floor space suitable for yoga next morning.
I have spoken to a local
dhaba walla on my way through town and on his promise that his steamed veg
momos are second to none, sworn to come back there for dinner. I do. I meet Monty, a young truck driver from Palampur on his way to Kaza staying the night at the
dhaba. We talk.. him in English and me in Hindi... which is great
fun. Then the usual taking of pics for the memory (his insistence... and I then email it to his address). We are now 'friends for life' as happens and I am invited to visit his house in Palampur some day. I nearly fall over in disbelief when I see what the flash has done in accentuating my sun-burned nose. I look like Rudolf the red nosed reindeer. The
momos are great.
Next morning, after assisting some passing Australians with tools to fix one of their Enfields (they are fitting a new back shocker that has broken... two had to return to Kaza to get one), I head out of town and don't notice the check post... I hear a shout.... and realise my mistake and turn back for my 'stamp' out of Spiti. I look back at the welcome gate and wonder if and when I will ever return to the valley.
Onwards to Kunzum Pass.
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Kathie Herbert
non-member comment
A beautiful place to be.
Breathtaking scenery and a rich and deep culture and history....and an Aussie on an Enfield...makes for a great yarn. Very special, thanks for sharing.