Aashutosh Pudasaini
At 5:50 AM, the college was still asleep, but we were already wide awake, buzzing with a quiet excitement. The morning was young, and so were we—full of energy, unaware of the lessons the road would offer.
By 6:20 AM, wheels began to turn. The city slowly blurred behind us as hills grew taller and thoughts grew deeper. It wasn’t just a trip; it was a slow unraveling of conversations, landscapes, and ourselves.
At 10:00 AM, we reached Malekhu and paused for lunch. Hunger makes food richer, and company makes it warmer. As we sat there, chewing and chatting, I realized how rare it is to simply be—not chase, not scroll, not plan—but just sit among friends, sharing silence between bites.
A short break at Muglin at 12:00 PM gave us time to stretch and reflect. The sun was soft now, casting gold on the river, and time slowed down. By 12:40 PM, we arrived at the gate of Bandipur—a quiet entrance to a world above the clouds.
From there, the real hike began. Ten kilometers of ascent—feet aching, lungs tested—but never once did anyone complain. Sometimes the trail steepened, but so did our resolve. Nature whispered all around us—not in words, but in rustling leaves, distant birds, and the rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel. The climb stripped away our distractions and left us with something simpler: a kind of presence.
That evening, Bandipur welcomed us like an old soul—calm, wise, and quietly beautiful. We wandered its main village, laughing like children, yet feeling something ancient stir within us. Maybe it was the mountain air. Or maybe the realization that joy doesn’t always shout; sometimes, it hums quietly between shared stories and starry skies.
The next morning, we hiked again—a smaller 4 km loop around Bandipur, bags in hand, collecting garbage. There was something humbling about it. Giving back, even in small ways, felt like gratitude in motion. We weren’t just passing through; we were part of this place now, even if only briefly.
By 4:00 PM, we were back at college. Tired but lighter, like we’d left something behind—or maybe carried something back with us that words can’t quite explain.
Some trips change your schedule.
Some change your state of mind.
Bandipur did both.
