Rain. The drops of heaven carrying the nuance of childlike wondering. But these pervade every inch of my being like the countless spirits that permeates every mountain and rock, every island and bay. Intangible as mist, unavoidable as gust.
After hours of driving from Leh across Ladakh and the tormentous looping sounds of Selena Gomez and Miley Cyrus, we have reached the village of Hundar. I had no doubt that it was the remotest place that I have been to in my entire life of existence. Imperatively, going to the moon is easier and faster than …