Manali | Himachal Pradesh

I Continue From Here: Pin Bhaba Pass Trek - Day 6: Bwaldar to Mudh 

10 July 2026 – Kaza to Manali

In the morning, I got ready and stepped out in search of some tea. Abhi joined me on my quest. We asked around but learnt that nothing opened that early in Kaza—it was already 6:15 a.m., by the way. Akshay was kind enough to arrange a cup of tea for me at the hotel where we were staying.

The team was to split that day. Some of us were heading to Manali, while the others were staying back to explore Kaza. We bid goodbye to those remaining behind and began our journey.

In the tempo traveller were Vivan, Dev, Divyesh, Dhaval, Akshay, Steven, Bhaskar, Abhi, Ajith Patel, and me. Along the way, we passed Chatru, the final campsite of the Hampta Pass trek. It reminded me of the trek I had done a few years ago. Back then, it wasn't nearly as popular, but now people were descending the pass as though it were a pilgrimage. There were crowds everywhere.

Throughout the journey, my thoughts remained occupied with Anish. I wasn't particularly close to him since he was much younger than me, but I always remembered him as a cheerful person who valued family and made an effort to stay connected with everyone. His infectious smile kept coming back to me. The last time I saw him was at my nephew's wedding reception in December last year. Unfortunately, I was so occupied with the arrangements that I barely had the chance to speak with him. I do remember giving both him and my uncle a hug before they left. His cheerful, smiling face is the last image I have of him, and that is how I will always remember him. My thoughts then drifted to my uncle. I couldn't imagine what he must be going through. I called my sister, Anu, who had attended the cremation, and spoke to her briefly. I planned to visit my uncle upon my return. 

Once we reached Manali, Divyesh and I had to return everyone's rented equipment. The rental company had sent a young, inexperienced boy to collect the items. He struggled with the paperwork and refunds, so Divyesh and I stepped in to help him complete the process.

Watching this unfold, Steven remarked that if this had happened in America, people would probably have become angry and started scolding the rental company. Instead, everyone patiently helped the young boy. "This can only happen in India," Steven concluded.

We bid farewell to Akshay, Dhaval, and Ajith Patel and told Steven that we would meet him for lunch or dinner the following day. Abhi, Divyesh, and I had booked our stay at Zostel, so we took a taxi. Unfortunately, we were dropped at the wrong Zostel—there are two of them in Manali. The staff there kindly showed us a shortcut through an apple orchard to reach the correct hostel.

After freshening up, we headed out for a late lunch. I found a restaurant called Renaissance particularly interesting. We ordered a delicious vegetarian burrito and an apple-flavoured kombucha. The food was excellent.

Dev and Vivan joined us there, and I happily shared my meal with the boys. Vivan especially, because I knew what a foodie he was. He told me how he always asked his brother to bring cupcakes from Glen's Bakery whenever he visited Bangalore. Earlier during the trek, we had spent a long time discussing street food and Bangalore's food scene. I promised that if he ever visited Bangalore, I would take him to some authentic eateries near my house.

If I were to place these two boys in my classroom, Vivan would undoubtedly have been one of the naughty boys in the class. Mischievous, but never in an unpleasant way. Even when he pointed out a mistake made by one of his Math teachers, he did so respectfully. He also had endless energy and was always coming up with fun games to keep the group entertained - An extrovert by nature. 

Dev, on the other hand, would have been the studious one or the ‘good boy’ of the class. Yet he was also someone who would never hesitate to speak up for what he believed was right. He always had a lot of questions for me. We ended up discussing the Renaissance, European history, and various art movements that evening. I was pleasantly surprised by the curiosity of someone so young.

I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with both of them. I wanted to make the most of whatever time remained before we all went our separate ways.

We wandered through a few cafés hoping to find good live music, but none of them impressed us. Eventually, we settled at Café 1986. The music there was decent, though not exceptional. When it was finally time for the boys to catch their bus, we said our goodbyes. Over the past week, we had shared so many conversations that I knew I would genuinely miss them. I hope our paths cross again on another trek someday.

Abhi, Divyesh, and I walked back towards the hostel. On the way, we decided to buy a bottle of wine.

It was amusing to watch Abhi interact with the shopkeeper. Earlier, he had told me that drinking was fairly common in Haryana, especially in Punjabi families. His family never objected to alcohol, but they had taught him one important principle: Never drink cheap alcohol. If you're going to drink, buy the best you can afford.

As the shopkeeper began showing us various local brands, Abhi interrupted him.

"Show us the best wine from Himachal," he said. "Money isn't the criterion here."

I rather liked that philosophy.

Back at the hostel, we borrowed a few glasses from the kitchen and sat outside enjoying the cool evening along with the wine. More importantly, we had some interesting conversations.

That night, Abhi opened up about himself more freely than he had all week. One topic that particularly stayed with me was his desire to expand his family's footwear business. His family, however, wasn't enthusiastic about it. Their response was simple:

"Why do we need more money? Aren't we already happy with what we have?"

I understand where such advice comes from. It comes from experience, contentment, and having already achieved one's own goals. Yet what often goes unnoticed is how easily that experience becomes paternalism. Without intending to, adults discourage young people from exploring their own ambitions.

That is precisely why I try to avoid giving direct advice to youngsters whenever they seek my opinion. I would rather let them experiment, make mistakes, and arrive at their own answers. As older people, we can certainly guide them, ask questions that refine their thinking, or point out possible consequences. But claiming to know the right answer simply because we have lived longer can become limiting.

In Abhi's case, I felt that the older generation had reached the standards they had once set for themselves. What they perhaps fail to realise is that the aspirations of the next generation need not be the same. Every generation deserves the freedom to discover its own limits. Unfortunately, many elders overlook this.

Abhi also spoke about the influence Osho's teachings had had on him through his father.

The wine itself was delightful. Infused with local herbs and spices, it tasted almost medicinal—in the best possible way. After that long but interesting conversation till around midnight, we finally called it a night. 

11 July 2026 – Manali

Divyesh and I were woken early by three rather noisy middle-aged women who were preparing to leave for the Hampta Pass trek. Perhaps they were unaware of hostel etiquette and behaved as though they were in a private room.

Once they left, I struck up a conversation with our other dorm mate, Pranav, an IT professional from Chennai. He was heading for the Bhrigu Lake trek—his very first Himalayan trek. We spoke at length about travel, work etc. 

Later that morning, Abhi and I walked to the confluence of the Manalsu Nala and the Beas River. This had been my little secret spot during my previous visit to Manali. Sadly, much had changed. The landslides and floods of the previous year had washed away much of the surrounding vegetation. The authorities had also rearranged the riverbanks to redirect the flow of water, altering the landscape considerably. It had lost much of the untouched beauty I remembered. I'll post a before-and-after photograph so you can see the difference.

How this place looked before (Ocotber 2022)

On our way back, we met Pranav, and I gave him directions to this little hidden spot. After a quick cup of tea at a local shop, we returned to the hostel to get ready.

For breakfast, we found a café where I ordered a hummus and falafel platter. It was both filling and delicious. Finding breakfast in Manali, however, was surprisingly difficult. Even at 10 a.m., most cafés were still closed.

While Divyesh returned to the hostel, Abhi and I headed out for another walk. Like me, he enjoys walking for the sake of walking. We spoke about life in Karnal, his interests, Osho, and his thoughts on marriage. He confessed that he wasn't particularly eager to marry unless he found someone with whom he genuinely connected. The women he liked, he said, did not wish to move to a small town like Karnal. "I am not particularly worried about it. If it has to happen, it will." He concluded. 

We visited the Hidimba Temple and, while walking back towards Mall Road, unexpectedly bumped into Steven. We had already planned to meet him for lunch, but it was nice running into him beforehand. He was heading to the Hidimba temple. He suggested that we take the forest trail through the park to reach Old Manali, and it turned out to be a beautiful walk. Abhi captured some wonderful 360-degree videos using his gimbal.

Soon we met Divyesh and Steven at Lazy Dog Café. The four of us spent the afternoon discussing Indian politics, world affairs, the stock market, and a host of other topics over drinks. It was an engaging conversation.

By complete coincidence, we were reunited with the rest of our trekking group—Prama, Neel, Ajith Mathew, Ashwini, Kush, and Aishwarya. They had spent an extra day in Kaza before arriving in Manali to catch their overnight bus to Delhi. We moved to a larger table and had lunch together. My cashew pesto pasta was excellent.

After lunch, Ajith, Abhi, Divyesh, and I returned to the hostel. We sat in the common area chatting until it was time for Ajith and Abhi to leave. Hoping that our paths would cross again, we bid them a warm farewell.

It rained steadily throughout the evening, so Divyesh and I remained in the hostel for a while. Later that night, we ventured out in search of live music and dinner. Owing to the rain, most cafés were nearly empty. Eventually, we found one where the singer was quite entertaining. The food wasn't particularly memorable, but the performance certainly was. Every now and then, the singer would unexpectedly weave a rap section into otherwise familiar songs. We returned to the hostel soon after and called it a day.

The following morning, we would leave for Kasol.

CONTINUED HERE: Kasol | Himachal Pradesh