Standing on the rooftop of his house at Dharamshala my friend dispelled my doubts regarding tourist worthiness of Dharamshala, “Don’t underestimate this place as a tourist spot. In fact this is one of the major tourist destinations in Himachal. Look at the Dhauladhar...
It was not a planned trip. My friend announced the evening before, “Tomorrow I have to visit Dharamshala. Would you like to come? We’d be back by evening.” No question of not agreeing. As usual start from Jammu was comfortably in the morning at about eight thirty. With three of us, the small red car rolled again...
If you like—come, stay for at least one night, roam around on foot, drive along the roads on both sides, be one with yourself and nature and finally take back something with you that will always remain valuable to you...
On the plains evening descended, and then night fell. The car streaked ahead through the night towards a small bubble of light, warmth, food and company—our home in Jammu. Far behind up in the mountains, Khajjiar lay dreaming in the lap of its mother.
This is the Pir Panjal mountain range running from east-southeast to west-northwest across Himachal Pradesh. The highest peak in this lower Himalayan range is Indrasan (6221m). Further to the right should be Dhauladhar behind the bend.Nowhere in between I could detect any sign of human civilization—it seemed to be all the way wilderness...
It was dusk at Khajjiar, a day had ended, evening was about to drop its shroud. It was leaving time. Within an hour at most it will be dark and all the human figures would take shelter in their warm enclosures. Nature would again be left to itself...
Three of us stood together watching the scene. At first I couldn’t comprehend clearly what I saw. Not often a natural scene takes my breath away! The expanse so vast, the carpet of short soft grass so inviting, the soft curves all around so soothing! The light green of the grass merged nearly at the horizon with the dark green wall of deodar trees...
I didn’t like the sound of the name, “What a name—Khajjiar! Nothing sweet or beautiful in it.” He smiled patiently, “We call it mini-Kashmir here. You will like it.” I have no special fascination for Kashmir or any other so-called most beautiful tourist place. Anywhere. For me a span of wilderness with deep green cover...
To me Patnitop will remain to be a special little gem. Perhaps that was the reason why I chose first Patnitop leaving aside such stars as Khajjiar, Dalhousie and Dharamsala when I had started to tell you this story...
After leaving the rest house, the road went down a bit and then leveled up still turning around in gentle curves. The snow point was not really a village or a specific place where establishments existed—it was just a stretch on the winding road where the low hillside rose on the left and went down below on the right, both covered with patchy layers of snow...
