28 & 29 April 2025
I had expected to spend a few final hours with Zen — maybe sharing stories, filming one last sacred moment — but when morning came, he was gone. He had disappeared into the mountains, and I sensed he didn’t want to say goodbye. A quiet sadness crept in as I realized I might never see him again. I had hoped for one more hug, a final nod to this peculiar yet profound chapter. But as I packed in silence, I knew in my bones — he wouldn’t return before I left.
Later, Sunil and a friend came to fetch me, and we made our way to his family home in Manali. I had the pleasure of meeting his mother and sister — gentle, shy women with kind eyes. From there, we walked down to the river, where Sunil showed me the local rafting site where he works. It was peaceful, even with the buzz of tourists eagerly preparing for their river journeys. We found a large rock, sat down with hot coffee in hand, and let the sunshine warm us.
There was something comforting about this moment. Reconnecting with people from my first India–Nepal trip felt like returning to a familiar thread in a vast, ever-unfolding tapestry. Even though our time together was brief once more, it reminded me that some moments — no matter how fleeting — settle into the heart forever.
Eventually, it was time to leave for the city. We had one last tea together before I boarded the night bus to Delhi. I was hopeful that this ride might bless me with a little more sleep, since exhaustion had quietly woven itself through me.
Manali surprised me — far larger and livelier than I’d imagined. The city pulsed with vibrant energy. Colorful shopfronts, twinkling lights, and the contrast of snow-darkened mountains behind them created a surreal beauty. Tourists wandered happily through the streets, licking ice cream cones and hunting for bargains in the night air. A part of me wished I had more time here. Maybe I’ll return someday and stay a little longer.
Too soon, it was time to say goodbye again. On the bus, I was delighted to find the seat beside me was empty — a small but deeply appreciated blessing on a long journey. I tried to curl into comfort, but my body resisted rest in the semi-upright seat. Still, this Laxmi Holidays bus was the best I’d taken in India — clean, smooth, a final little luxury.
It felt as though I hadn’t slept at all, but soon we arrived at Kashmiri Gate. I had come full circle. My three-month journey across Northern India had come to its close.
I shared a taxi with two girls heading to the airport, as my hotel was nearby. The early morning streets of Delhi were surprisingly quiet — a rare stillness in a city usually humming with life. But soon the scene shifted, and I found myself outside my hotel in a blur of busy streets once again.
It was time for a shower, a nourishing meal, and a long nap. I didn’t plan to explore Delhi — I’d already said my goodbyes to this city — but I did want to buy a few new pieces of clothing before flying to Malaysia. I’d shed many belongings along the way, and still, my bag somehow felt heavy. A metaphor, perhaps.
Later that day, I met up with Aryan. He’d managed to take time off work to spend a day in the city. Having company made all the difference. We wandered the nearby mall, browsed through shops, and found a surprisingly grand food court with everything from Indian thalis to western bites.
It felt odd, after so long in nature and villages, to be back in this shiny, air-conditioned bubble. But it also felt good. A brief immersion before the next chapter.
Delhi, for all its intensity, wasn’t calling me this time. And that’s okay.
I know I’ll return to India again soon — to explore a different side, a new thread in the tapestry.
