Nepal

In ways, I can only hope to describe, Nepal is like an old lover. One you haven’t seen in ages but she, who still lives somewhere in the recesses of your heart. All you remember is that splendid first glance, that feeling of being overwhelmed and then losing track of time until its time to come back home.

The simple splendor of this country filled my soul with peace, my heart with joy and my lungs with pristine air. Walking around the lazy, sepia toned streets of Kathmandu and Lalitpur, one cannot help but feel a certain calm enveloping them. Patan Durbar Square, a UNESCO World heritage Site where the Malla Kings of Lalitpur once resided was one such place where I just stood still and tried to capture every little scene in my mind’s eye, hoping desperately to never forget what it looked like. For every memory captured in a photograph, I wrote a little note to remind me of how I felt in that moment, in that space.

Made more with love than with bricks, Cafe Cheeno at Patan truly became an asylum for my weary self. With an abundant collection of books and generous sunshine, I often sat there, content in just being. Lemonade on my table and prayer flags swaying in the breeze – it was one of those moments when happiness didn't feel so elusive afterall. 

A twenty minute flight later, I arrive at Pokhara valley, only to realise that for the next two days, I am going to be blown away, over and over again. Close your eyes and imagine a secret lodge, tucked away at the foot of a hill, camouflaged by trees and flowers. It sits like a shy bride, on the other side of the lake, and the only way to get to her is via a boat. Right out of a fairytale, Fishtail lodge made me realize that coming to Nepal was one of the best decisions I could have made. What was scenic and lush green by day was star studded and serene by night, interspersed only by the sound of crickets, for I was living in their world, not the other way around.

Walking in Pokhara, I didn’t know which way to look – at the quaint & woody restaurants & pub’s lit by gorgeous paper lamps or across the road towards candle lit cafe’s with cane chairs on pebbles, with little fences opening up to the lake side? I choose the pebbled path leading to the lake and when I get there, for a long time, I just stand in silent awe. The bluest skies I had ever seen flirted with fluffy clouds, played hide and seek in the golden glow of the sun. I’m quite sure they thought they were being clandestine, but the Fewa Lake, a gentle spectator, reflected their colors and intentions for me to see. If I were to describe ‘love’ in a non-human kind of way, that was it. The feeling of being allowed to witness such splendor, made me feel more alive than I ever have.

And in that silent lucidity, I heard the chiming of temple bells resonating all the way from Talbarahi temple. Floating in an almost island, in the middle of Fewa lake, this temple had around it, brass bells of every size, each vibrating with a different frequency, only to create an incredible symphony. I looked around and saw only lush green mountains, placid grey waters and colorful para-gliders dotting the once blue, and now a smoldering evening sky. 

For the adventurous soul, there is much to crave in Pokhara – waterfalls, treks, para gliding, rafting and maybe some permanent ink on their skin. For a soul as restless as mine, sitting by the lake in cushioned cane chairs and some wine was more than I could ask for.