All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
I knew where I was going to, I knew the names of the places I would have visited but, once again, I wasn’t prepared at all to what I saw. Often, travelling, I felt the need to stop for some time – just to stand and enjoy the moment – like oppressed by a too strict road-map just to discover all the “must-sees”. India – as I explained in my last article – taught me not to rush and, in the last six days I’ve been able to apply this mantra in its purest meaning. After have reached Kasol and spend there 2 nights, have visited Manikaran and its amazing Gurudwara and enjoyed a delicious breakfast with breathtaking view in Tosh, the travel plan foresaw trekking from Kasol to Rasol. Obviously I couldn’t imagine how this last place – among the many others – would have remained clearly impressed in my heart and in my mind, indelible.
Hidden deep within the foot hills of the Himalayas lies a small village by the name of Rasol which is at an altitude of around 10,000 feet above sea level (3048 m) and has not more than 75 houses. The only option to reach the village of Rasol is to hike from the town of Kasol. The hike takes around three to four hours to reach with a hand full of steep climbs which are very much do able for even a rookie hiker. Good hiking shoes and a bottle of water maybe along with a wooden stick to aid you in the hiking is a must for all. While on the hike, one thing that everyone will spot is numerous of magic Rasol sign boards on rocks and tree barks pointing in the correct direction of the village. Magic Rasol is in reference to the hashish that is sold in this village. The hashish from Rasol is supposed to be one of the finest and many consider it to be on power with the stuff from Malana – it’s important to keep in mind that possession of such stuff is not only banned but can also lead to imprisonment.
The guest house where I was hosted, had a simple terrace without banister but equipped with mattresses, blankets and pillows. After lunch, me and a couple of friends have conquered the warm nest on the terrace. Like children, we built a fort with blankets and pillows, finding shelter from the cold air whipping our cheeks. The sun was just starting its slow journey to the horizon and the sunset colors filled the atmosphere timidly. Once we nestled in the coziness we haven’t done nothing except for enjoy what nature offered our eyes on a silver platter.
To cut is, in the common imaginary, always painful. Yet, when the time is mature, the light pressure of a fingertip is enough to detach a leaf from the branch. It hurts to throw what is still united; to cut or to detach what in the substance is already separated, instead no. Equally, leave the mental pressure of futile thoughts go away, results simple and natural as soon as we gain the correct perspective.
It’s just a matter of gaining lightness, dropping all the ballasts to create the space for new ideas and the breeding ground for new and valid priorities. That was the constant feeling, spending my time in Parvati Valley: to get rid of trappings, of the useless which weighted me down before.
Even if the mirror everyday send me the same reflection, I can properly see how my indian experience is changing me from the inside. I noticed how is becoming simple for me let go all that things which are harmful for my personal quietness: people, thoughts, events. I became more pragmatic: less gripes, less explanations. The daily contact with such a rude and – often – poor reality forces you to change your priorities just giving space to the sweet and simple little things. Rasol gave me a peace I had never known before.
And there was the magic: with that marvelous show filling my eyes, the brain suddenly seemed mute;
I had no thoughts, no worries, I was just living the moment, a wonderful moment of happiness.