A silent frame of a wandering monk — the inner journey begins where words cease to matter.
Pulga, Himachal — where boredom isn't something to escape, but a doorway into stillness. Some places teach you how to be alone without being lonely.
Somewhere deep in Ferry Forest, I stopped walking — not because I was tired, but because the silence felt more alive than the noise I carried inside.
Some cafés serve coffee. This one in served sunlight, silence, and a stranger’s smile that stayed longer than the caffeine.
Osho GangaDham, Rishikesh — a space where the river slows you down long enough to notice that happiness was already in you.
Went to Shimla. Came back with fewer thoughts, colder air in my lungs, and a kind of silence I didn’t want to shake off.
Osho Commune — where the dance is as sacred as the silence. Zorba smiles not because everything is perfect, but because nothing needs to be.
Three cows. One meal. No rush. No noise. Just a slow moment of shared silence in an ashram — and maybe, that's what peace actually looks like.
Not yet flowers. Not just buds. Just moments in-between — red and maroon, waiting quietly beside the Ganga, like thoughts that haven’t yet decided what they want to become.
Inside a monastery in Lahaul — where the walls hold whispers older than memory, and the silence feels like it's been praying long before you arrived.
A silent mountain café — no music, no menu boards, no noise. Just the smell of chai, old wood, and the sound of time slowing down.
