Priyanshu Sinha

I recently went on a three-day trip to Jibhi and Tirthan, organized by a travel agency (Byko Journeys). We were a group of around twenty people, most of us complete strangers. This blog is an attempt to capture what I felt during and after those few days.

Let’s start with the group. Honestly, they weren’t what I expected—but in the best way possible. It’s funny how two or three days are barely enough to remember twenty names (I still can’t recall seventy percent of them), yet somehow that doesn’t matter. We were known by our professions: the engineers, the doctor, the lawyer, the MBA folks, and so on.

I’ve always found it a bit difficult to open up to new people, maybe it’s just the introvert in me. I tried, sincerely, but still couldn’t speak to everyone. However, with the few I did connect with, I came away with new perspectives. One person said I look “very cunning”, I’m still undecided if that was a compliment. I’ve often been told I give off an intimidating or unapproachable vibe at first glance. Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t care enough to change it. But if anyone from the trip or in general happens to read this, know that I’m not quite what I appear to be on the surface. At least, that’s what my close friends would say (seriously you don’t want to know if you are highly sensitive or unfunny).

Back to the trip, it was refreshing in a quiet, personal way.

Our lodge was nestled beside a stream that runs through the heart of Tirthan valley. Surrounded by rhododendrons, plum trees, and what felt like fifty different shades of roses, the place felt like a living wallpaper. The constant, soothing rush of water somehow managed to hush the noise inside your head. Even the metallic taste of the mountain water felt like it reset your senses. You could sit there, motionless, until your group captain (shoutout to Yasser bhai!) called you back to reality.

The hikes to Chhoie Waterfall and Serolsar Lake were nothing short of meditative. Not too easy, not too hard, but endlessly rewarding. Along the trails and in every village we passed, people seemed content in their simple, grounded lives. Kids played outside, helped their parents, smiled at strangers. No screens. No distractions. Just living. And everyone we crossed greeted us warmly, a rare gesture in the high-tech cities we come from.

It made me wonder, do we really need the constant flood of information, the endless extrapolation of events that happen thousands of miles away? Why do we let so much negativity in, even manufacture it ourselves? A few months from now, I’ll be starting full-time work. I might not even get the time to think about these things. Sometimes I question my decision to skip the extra six-month internship, but then again, this whole chase for the perfect career, perfect life, more money, more status, it all starts to feel strangely artificial.

I meant to write a simple review of this trip. But instead, all this just poured out of me. Trips like these remind me how often I take life’s simpler pleasures for granted. I hope I never lose this part of myself.

And as a bonus to it all, got greeted by an unexpected snowfall. Yes, I’m that lucky.

Too many thoughts before bedtime. Time to stop.