In Phyang the air is so fine… like an elixir. Despite the cold. Despite the minus 4 or 5 or whatever min that you’ve plunged to, from your cocoon of Mumbai 35 deg C. And then you realize how sharp clean the air is, even if your heart thuds at twice its usual staid speed.
You walk for miles it seems, and there is NO SOUND except the crunch of grit underfoot. And yet, you know you are safe.
For you have been blessed and protected… a darshan that can change your lifeline… what a privilege. Abundance. And gratitude.