Sheep

Pulga. The village at the end of the bus route...east end of the valley. Another time, maybe...

A lazy last day in parvati valley, sat in cafe as the heat scours the dust, skies taking on overtones of coming rain, beginning to gleam gunmetal grey, a haze upon the hills. But...

Chhalal could be one of the most chilled out places...buy for the music...the places like it loud and driven, no space to dream; a kind of techno groundhog day, same same as a decade ago, on a bad night...to be sitting (with or without uke, mostly with) listening to the sounds of the forest, occasional headlights as cars pass along on the other side of the river; the moon almost full, the sky light in the midsummer's proximity...shanti...and then thud thud thud thud...and spells are broken, shards under the hobnail boot trampling upon them...music to leave to:-)

but, in the silences and power cuts, upon that torchlit stumble back from Kasol, sitting on the porch,the surprisingly bright skies. In these moments it becomes all that I'd hoped for...a place fumbling between silences and uke practice...with a big friendly dog who doesn't seem to mind my discordant variations as long as he gets some attention...

And the valley resounds as a thing of beauty...