The mornings. They are the hardest. The dreams have not yet died. Memories of other times and other places still linger. You reach a subtle compromise between the stubbornness of sleep and the righteousness of waking. All you ask from the day is a few moments in which you travel a thousand miles.

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May be, it is not the best time. May be, it is. May be, it will melt your chocolaty hearts and drive you to a donation page. Anyway, I have been trying to write about the kids I met on the Kashmir trip and today morning seems to be the perfect time. she had just three phrases in her vocabulary. “i will throw you out of the car”, “i will throw you out of the window” and “my father will beat you up”. She wasn’t…Continue Reading “My encounters with kids in Kashmir”

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In recent past, this is the second time that we have got lucky. After two very good homestays in Chail, one of which I written exhaustively about, we got even a better turn of events in Kashmir. However, luck favours the brave. And, in this case, we had stood our ground. From the moment we booked the ticket, everything seemed to go wrong. The flight was rescheduled from an early morning one (8.15 a.m.) to 10 o’clock departure. It, eventually, took off at twelve o’clock,…Continue Reading “Travelling to Kashmir – Living like a local”

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