Miles&Memories

 Kabhi socha hai... duniya ki bheed se nikal kar, kisi aise raaste par chalne ki koshish karien jahan sirf hara rang ho. Jahan pedon ke jhund apne baahon mein le lein, aur jahan hawa bhi aapka naam le kar guzar jaaye. Doodhpathri , Kashmir ka ek chhupa hua jannat, wahi jagah hai – jahan zindagi ruk sakti hai, aur waqt apne paon se chalne lagta hai ... Yeh jagah hai... ek kahaani jaisi Kashmir ke Budgam district mein chhupa hua yeh valley, ek khula canvas hai. Doodh jaisi safed dhund , hara bhara ghaas ka farsh , aur deodar ke pedon ka guard of honour – har mod par ek nayi nazm likhi ja sakti hai.   Barish ki ek boond yahan sargam lagti hai. Yeh koi tourist spot nahi hai – yeh ek feeling hai. Jab badal sir ke upar se guzarte hain, aur zameen se khushboo uthti hai – tab samajh aata hai ki safar sirf manzil tak pahuchna nahi hota, balki jeena hota hai.   Safar ka ek tukda: Budgam se Doodhpathri. Srinagar se lagbhag 45 km ke drive ke baad, jab aap Doodhpathri ke paas pahuc...

 "Kahi jaana zaroori nahi hota… kabhi kabhi khud se milne ke liye bhi nikalna padta hai . Sheher thak chuka tha… aur main bhi. Traffic, deadlines, Insta stories, aur vohi purani chai ki dukan… Zindagi ek loop ban gayi thi — predictable, noisy, aur thodi si fake. Ek din subah 4 baje, bina kisi plan ke, main nikal gaya. Kaha jaana hai, ye nahi pata tha… Par lagta tha raaste mujhe dhoond lenge. 🌌 Spiti – Jahan Khamoshi Bolti Hai Woh pahadi raaste the — khamosh, lekin bolne wale. Main Spiti pahucha, ek chhoti si homestay me — network se bilkul door. Na koi Instagram, na koi notification. Bas main… aur woh aasmaan, jisme sitare itne paas lagte the jaise kisi ne haath se jod ke rakhe ho. Raat ke 2 baje… main chhat pe blanket leke baitha tha. Pehli baar laga… ki zindagi theher gayi hai. Pehli baar, main sirf “main” tha — koi role nahi, koi label nahi 🍂 Raste Kabhi Khaali Nahi Hote Ek aurat mili, 60 saal ki, jinki aankhon me Himalaya tha. Usne bola: "Raaste sirf chaln...

  Dear Wind, You didn’t howl. You whispered. In Spiti, even the mountains speak in silence. I tried listening… and for the first time, I heard myself. The roads were dust and danger, but the skies — they were soft, like childhood memories. A monk waved at me from a rooftop. No words. Just eyes that had seen centuries pass. At Key Monastery, prayers floated like incense. I sat there, not asking for anything. And yet, I received peace. Spiti didn’t greet me. It watched me — like it’s seen many before me, and will watch many after. But that one night under the Milky Way, with only the cold and cosmos for company — I think, just for a second, you embraced me back. Always listening, Vikram.

  Dear Lake Pichola, You didn’t rush me. You never do. That morning, I sat by your banks — feet dangling, heart dangling too. And you waited. Until my tea cooled. Until my thoughts warmed. Udaipur doesn’t chase moments. It lets them sit beside you. On ghats, in gullies, in windows that don’t shut. I met a man who paints miniatures. He told me: " You can't hurry beauty. " And suddenly, I understood you. The palace on water didn’t try to impress. It simply existed — like breath, like old love that no longer needs words. You gave me a day that felt like a decade — but in the best way. Until we meet again, Vikram.

  Dear Ganga, I came here looking for noise — waterfalls, chants, chaos. But you gave me silence. The kind that doesn’t echo, just sits quietly inside. I watched the Ganga Aarti with hundreds, but felt like you were only looking at me. You didn’t speak, but you heard everything. Even the things I hadn’t told myself. There was a monk under the peepal tree, counting beads like memories. There was a dog who walked with me for 2km, then just stopped — like he knew I was okay now. You healed something, Rishikesh. Not loudly, not all at once. But gently — like the river that never stops, just flows... even when no one is watching. Always on the road, Vikram.

Delhi Ke Flavours Jo Sirf Akele Me Samajh Aate Hain.   “Kuch khaane akelay hi ache lagte hain… jaise Khameer ki roti, ya purani Delhi ka nihari.” 1. Lotan ke Chole Kulche – Chawri Bazar 70 saal se sirf ek chaat plate; log ab bhi subah 7 baje line me lagte hain. Mirchi level: fire. Flavour level: memory. Pro tip: Dahi zaroor lena; warna aankh bhi bhar aayegi. 2. Baba Nagpal ke Chole Bhature – Lajpat Nagar Forget fancy cafes. This is the real brunch of Delhi. Crispy bhature, masaledaar chole, or crowd jo sirf food language me baat karta hai. Solo log yaha sabse zyada tasty feel karte hain. Kyunki distraction zero. 3. Daulat ki Chaat – Chandni Chowk (Seasonal) Cloud-like foam, saffron, or milk magic. Only available in winters, only in old Delhi. You don’t eat it; you experience it. A food memory that melts before your brain can store it. 4. Changezi Chicken – Daryaganj Old school Mughlai with a bold heart. Spicy, greasy, aur...

 रात के 11 बज रहे थे।   मुंबई CSMT स्टेशन पर हल्की‑फुल्की बारिश हो रही थी, और प्लेटफॉर्म पर वो पुरानी सी गूंज — जैसे हर सफ़र की शुरुआत से पहले होती है।   हम चार दोस्त, ज्यादा कुछ सोचे बिना Konkan Kanya Express में चढ़ गए — मंज़िल थी: दुधसागर फॉल्स। ट्रेन ने जैसे ही शहर छोड़ा, सब शांत हो गया।   खिड़की के बाहर बारिश की बूँदें दौड़ रही थीं, और अंदर — हर कोई अपने–अपने ख्यालों में खोया हुआ। रात का वो हिस्सा, जब सब सो रहे होते हैं और सिर्फ़ ट्रेन की आवाज़ साथ देती है, वो बहुत खास होता है।   हमने खिड़की से बाहर देखा — काला आसमान, भीगी पटरियाँ और हर स्टेशन पर ठहरी हुई नींद। **सुबह 4:12 — पहली झलक** Castle Rock स्टेशन के बाद सब चुप थे।   हमें पता था — बस एक टनल और, फिर सामने होगा दुधसागर जलप्रपात। और फिर — जैसे ही ट्रेन अंधेरे से बाहर आई, सामने था एक ज़िंदा सपना।   सफेद पानी की मोटी धार, पहाड़ से गिरती हुई, और हम ठीक उसके सामने पुल पर। बिना कुछ कहे सब बस खामोश होकर खिड़की से चिपक गए। > वो झरना नहीं था, जैसे किसी ने आसमान को धरती...

 "Kuch yaadein baarish ki tarah hoti hain — kab aayi, kab chali gayi, pata hi nahi chalta... bas dil bheeg jaata hai." ☔ Jab Bina Plan Ke Nikal Gaye July ka woh weekend tha — na tickets book thi, na destination fix. Bas ek message: "Bhai, kahin chalte hain. Baarish dekhni hai, phone se nahi... aankhon se." Aur hum nikal gaye. 🚗 Gaadi Mein Dosti Aur Geeli Hawa Gaadi chali, window khuli, aur baarish andar tak aa gayi — sif car mein nahi… humare beech wali khamoshi mein bhi. Ek ne gaana chalu kiya — wo college wala gaana jo hum hamesha ignore karte the kyunki uske saath yaadein chipki thi. Us din sab gaaye. Kisi ne kuch bola nahi… par sab keh gaye. 🫖 Rasta, Chai, Aur Wo Ek Adhura Joke Highway ke side mein ek choti si chai tapri. Baarish tez thi. Awaaz dhoondhne par bhi nahi milti thi. Lekin hum hans rahe the… ek purana joke leke jo har baar adhura chhoda tha — kyunki hamesha koi break-up, job ya zindagi ka twist aa jaata tha. Is baar hum...

  🌴 Kochi – Where Even the Wind Whispers History It began in Kochi — sea breeze, white-washed churches, and lanes heavy with stories. In Fort Kochi, the walls don’t just have graffiti — they hold timelines. A local fisherman smiled and said, “The fish are fewer now… but the stories still swim here.”   🚣‍♂️ Alleppey – Where the River Learns to Speak As we stepped into the houseboat in Alleppey, it felt like life hit pause. Water all around, homes floating in silence — like the world had been tucked inside a soft blue dream. Three friends, one boat, and a smiling boatman who said: “Here, GPS doesn’t work. Memories do.” Coconut curry by sunset, firefly lights by night, and a fresh river waiting every morning. ☕ Munnar – Where Tea and Mist Talk to Your Soul Then came Munnar — where hills speak in hush tones. Fog wrapped around us like a conversation, and a chai-wali aunty handed us not just tea… but calm. There was no WiFi there — but the connection...

Baarish ho rahi hai. Window ke bahar dhundh hai. Teen doston ka backpack bheeg raha hai. Lekin chehra nahi — vo to kisi aur hi world mein kho gaya hai. Dialogue: “Yahan aake lagta hai… hum sheher mein zyada rehe gaye the.” Day 1: Shillong — Sheher Jaisa, Par Sheher Nahi Shillong mein roads smooth hain, par hum sab thode rough the. Ek café mila, naam tha — “Tranquil Soul” . Ek ne coffee order ki, dusre ne silence. Jitni baarish baahar thi, utni hi andar bhi. Par café ke kone mein baji ek purani Kishore da ki line: Sab kuch thoda thehra sa lagne laga. Day 2: Cherrapunji — Baadal Ko Haath Lagta Hai “Yahan log chhat nahi banate… kyunki baarish unka farsh hai.” Ek trek pe nikal gaye — jahan paani ne rasta banaya, aur humne sirf pairon ka bharosa rakha. Double Decker Root Bridge tak pahunchte pahunchte, Ek dost bolta hai — “Yeh koi bridge nahi… ek zindagi ka sabak hai — patience + time = magic.”   Day 3: Dawki — Nadi Jismein Aap Apne Aap Ko Dekh Sakte Ho Paani itna saaf...