THE HIMALAYAN HEALING TOUCH

On a trip to the Tirthan Valley in Himachal Pradesh, two sisters rediscover their love for travelling together as the mystical land heals their frayed sisterhood.

- SATARUPA PAUL

THE WEATHER APP had predicted a gloomy day with hints of a thunderstorm, yet by some sleight of hand, it was turning out to be a bright and cheery one. My sister and I lay sprawled on the soft grass of the Sharchi meadows, lush from the recent monsoon rains. Behind us, towering conifers dotted the slopes of the mountains that stood high and mighty like sentinels of this kingdom. Wooden houses were sprinkled around, some peeking surreptitiously from the woods, others standing meekly in the shadows of the mountains. In front of us unfolded a panorama unlike any other. The valley of Tirthan lay below with its eponymous river, a silvery thread of life. Guarding it on all sides stood the majestic Pir Panjals—the largest of the Lesser Himalayan ranges. As if on cue, to complete the idyllic setting, a flock of sheep appeared on the meadows, bells tinkling at their necks, a fluffy shepherd dog in tow with his human not far behind.

A week ago, it'd have been unimaginable for the two of us to be together in this dreamy place, talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company. The pandemic may have kept many families apart, but for my sister and me, the distance had driven a wedge deeper than we could've anticipated. We hadn't met in over two years, the longest that we had ever been apart-she in lockdown in an alpine French town, me in isolation in a bustling South Delhi neighbourhood. The daily video calls of the initial frenzied days had petered out, and life in the new normal had caught up with us. Many travel plans were thwarted by waves of viral mutations, and signs of resignation were settling in. So, when a travel window finally presented itself, and my sister flew down from France, the feeling of joy was unsurpassed, at first.