Kanyakumari to Kashmir: A Personal Odyssey

Damini Kumar

I’m a photographer, and I’ve been working all my life. But at the end of 2023, I decided to quit my job and start a new journey—an actual journey, a trek from Kanyakumari to Leh.

Starting in November 2023, I walked across India, covering thousands of kilometres over eight months. Each day brought new challenges and unforgettable memories. From celebrating my birthday with a stranger in Kovalam to camping at temples and meeting inspiring people like Mahesh Sir in Karwar, the journey was full of moments that taught me resilience and gratitude.

As I crossed Maharashtra, Rajasthan, Punjab, and finally into Himachal Pradesh, I experienced everything from farmer strikes to festivals like Shivratri in Mandi. The final stretch—on the cold, high-altitude roads of Ladakh—was the most demanding but also the most rewarding. And on July 24, 2024, I finally reached Leh, bringing to an end a journey that not only tested my physical limits but also transformed me as a person.

Travelling from the southern tip to its northernmost state made me feel at one with the country. But it was more than just a trip; it taught me valuable skills like management, communication, survival, and so much more. Indeed, for all my life’s ups and downs—from a lost child at a railway station to hiking across India—my journey has taught me the power of kindness, courage, and perseverance. Along the way, I was fortunate enough to meet some truly helpful and supportive people, who had their own stories to tell.

I met Krutik, 21, at a dhaba where I stopped for lunch. Happy to see me, Krutik shared with me his dream to ride to Ayodhya from Maharashtra, a dream he’s working towards realising, collecting money so that he can buy a cycle.

On a walk early one morning, I bumped into Shrikant Joshi, 55, who cycles 5-6 kilometres when the day is young. A Maharashtrian, Shrikant Sir thought I was from the south but after hearing me talk, he praised my Hindi. “I am from Delhi, Sir, though by looks I resemble a Malayali,” We bonded well, and later, Shrikant Sir called me and told me I had inspired him to cycle 100km. It feels so good and motivating if someone does something special for you, and I will always remember his gesture.

Rohit, 33, runs a dhaba in Ratnagiri with his family. He served me lunch for free, and also gave me something priceless: his favourite cap, which he signed for me. Rohit bhai feels very happy when he sees people step out of their comfort zones and embrace travel. Before saying goodbye, I took a photo of him with his family.

Satish, 62, was on his way somewhere with his wife, Jyoti, 57, when we met. He stopped to talk, and told me that they too are passionate about cycling and travel, before sending me on my way with his blessings. Such chance encounters on my journey were always uplifting.

Dhananjay, 35, is an IIT graduate but runs a dhaba. He left his job because he wasn’t enjoying it (even though he was getting a good package), and wanted to start his own business. Dhananjay bhai asked me to have breakfast and tea and we chatted for a while. He wished me well for the rest of my journey.

Anil Sir, 70, who I met in Gujarat, delivers water from door to door, and shop to shop, along with his son. When he saw me one morning, he asked where I was going. He checked if I had water on me, and filled my bottle. Anil Sir blessed me and said to call him if ever I needed anything. I left grateful for meeting him.

One of the most moving interactions was with Arun, 54, whose movement is very restricted due to disability in both legs. I met Arun Sir in Baroda one afternoon, when he made his way slowly to where I was, to tell me that he too had a dream once. Both of us became emotional. He wished me god speed.

In Gujarat early one morning, when strolling along the bank of a river, I bumped into Mangal, 62, who asked me where I was headed. He was delighted to hear my reply. Very kindly, Mangal bhai invited me to his house for breakfast with his family, who were more than happy for me to join them. I had a photo clicked with his wife, children, and even the neighbours. They then excitedly lifted my bag to see how heavy it was! Mangal bhai wished me luck on completing my Bharat ‘bhraman’ (excursion), and I thanked him for his hospitality.

In Rajasthan, I was privileged to meet Kalyan Singh, 72, who runs a dhaba, and loves to strike up conversations with people entering for a meal, or on the way out having had their fill. His mind is sharp, his outlook towards life full of positivity. Happy to see a new face, Kalyan uncle requested me to stay for tea, and was keen to get to know me. When I told him about my journey, he was overjoyed. “It’s very good that people your age are going out to fulfil their dreams,” he said.

When I reached Himachal Pradesh, I met Subhash Thakur, 33, who runs a small roadside tea stall, where he offered me some chai. Subhash bhai goes out of his way to help people, and asked me to stay the night. Disarmed, I thanked him and told him I had to be on my way.

In Bhuntar, Himachal Pradesh, I met a retired officer, 77, who was once stationed in Ladakh. He invited me to his house for tea and was impressed by my travels. I forgot Sir’s name but I did click photos of him. He was happy to host me.

I met Ibrahim K. Safi, 32, at the hostel I was staying in, in Manali. An amazing tattoo artist from Gaza, he moved to Belgium at a very young age to start his own studio. I cried a lot when hearing of the plight of his family, who are trapped in Gaza; he is raising funds to help them get out. Ibrahim drew a tattoo on my hand, a first for me. His designs resonate with the personality of the one sitting for the tattoo.