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.

You come back home, come back to the same old… yet you know something’s changed.

After long I feel --on some fronts-- life has moved to first gear, finally. Did some assignments. Helped some, gratis. Felt good. Perhaps it was the dizzy activity of the industrial estate, the buzz and clatter of the presses that felt good, reminded me – of being me.

The Whiplash OST is a must listen. Reminded me of the steel drums that play Ganpati-time. What precision. And what a story.

The BRKA letter to shareholders is a must read.

Tonight, I leave for Leh, for temperatures below zero. If this flight takes off, that is. Have already had to reschedule twice. But such is the magic of the land.