So it took me four years to be finally writing this first sentence. With a huge amount of procrastination and a little bit of courage, I begin.
A few hours ago I was talking to my grandmother about my grandfather’s upcoming birthday and eventually a simple topic of giving him socks as a birthday present turned towards the cold winters of Lahaul Spiti and Kullu, how my grandfather had been posted in Lahaul and he refused and then worked from Kullu for that division. Before going on any trip I never let my family members know because they would worry and keep calling me and when you are to go deep into the mountains, cell reception is a privilege(BSNL works though). I finally told her that I went to Spiti in October and Kinnaur once again after going in 2015 too. I was showing pictures of Chandrataal, Kunzum pass and Kinnaur and she told me that my father has been there too. That he once went with his SBI team to deposit cash for their branch in Kaza. That they possibly stayed in the pwd resthouse and well I had stayed there too. Also that he was posted in Kinnaur for a while and how he loved to travel. I guess the apple didn’t fell far from the tree.
So many untold stories and how they’re just out in the void when one passes away. Here in ncottage we don’t talk about our feelings and I’d like to change that. This is my first step.