764
Rishabh Kochhar
With the coronavirus back with a newfound vengeance, I had to cancel a trip to the hills with my friends. I never thought that missing a trip to the hills would haunt me so much because growing up, I hated the mountains. My family’s annual retreat to my aunt's place in Shimla would see us walking aimlessly along the Mall Road, having lunch with old family friends, and tea with another acquaintance. While my parents loved these endless walks, I abhorred them. But after spending the better half of the last decade in Mumbai, Hyderabad, Bengaluru, and remote Manipal, I grew inexplicably fond of the hills. So in November, with an ease in travel restrictions, I convinced my extended family to accompany me to a remote village near Kasauli.