Punjab tourism
We thought that by this time we would be in Himachal and would finally become one with nature. But here we were, standing in a local bus stop in Punjab, with the sun over our heads, being as harsh as it possibly could and a bag on our shoulder, weighing like a ton. It is a bit funny though, that in this moment we were not complaining about our situation. There was a feeling that probably it was not as bad as it might sound. There was an unexplained content in our hearts. We were together and that was the only thing that mattered. Many buses passed by and we jumped on every bus to ask whether it will take us to our destination. It made a spectacle. About 15 people with huge trekking bags running towards each and every bus on the road, but never got on any. It was probably not a common sight for the people of Kurali, the small town where we were stranded. At last a man came and out of sympathy helped us, by telling whatever he could.
Finally after a good field research we got on a bus to Kiratpur. The route of our travel was-
Kurali to kiratpur, kiratpur to Bilaspur, Bilaspur to Bhunter and finally Bhunter to Parvati Valley.
It would take a total of 6 hours for us to get to Himachal.
When we reached Kiratpur we started feeling a bit peckish. So we had our breakfast without brushing or bathing, the reasons for which were quite obvious. Punjabi parattha with Lassi, a delight that we were lucky to have, made our morning treat.
As a result of our little detour, on the first day we were roving in Punjab. It is a nice place with vast stretches of cultivated lands, greenery and bridges over rivers and canals. The water was pure and blue; as if some one had spilled paint in it. As children, we used to read about green revolution and how it changed our agricultural practices. Seeing Punjab, where the foundation stone of Green revolution was laid, was like a recalling those pages of our textbooks. Kudos to Dr.M.S.Swaminathan, the brilliant mind behind the successful revolution, I thought looking the marvel outside the window.
The local buses in India are just the same in every state. They are crowded and conjusted, leaving just a little room for breathing. Since there were no seats available, we were standing for most part of our journey. Adding on to all the muddle, our columbus and iron lady were experiencing motion sickness. This made things complicated but then they very well knew that the cure to their problem was a good nap. Therefore, While we were capturing snaps of Punjab in our memory, the two of them were dreaming.
Though our plans derailed, we were still enjoying our tragic fate. Finally after 1 volvo and 4 local buses we reached Parvati Valley. We were in Himachal, at last. Our bodies were tired but our hearts rejoiced at the sight of mountains that stretched as far as we could see, as if welcoming us. We indeed came a along way to be here and every second of our travel and hardships were worth it. A voice inside me said - Now we are ready to roll.
Dude that journey was tiring. I hate traveling on local buses... 🙇
ReplyDeleteI know that...
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