A Walk to Upper Bir

July 12, 2023

I wake up to the uncertainty of the Himalayan weather. One moment, clouds clash with the morning sun only to fall apart into thin rain the next moment.

The only certainty is my craving for coffee, which pulls me out of bed and onto Bir’s slightly muddied roads. I have no map for the day and wonder whether it should be about visiting more monasteries, a quiet café, or just simple wandering?

As I walk aimlessly towards the heart of the town; the deep, rhythmic sound of bells drift me to the nearby Nyingma Monastery which I had bypassed two days ago on arrival. Today, something compels me to step inside. At first glance, it seems modestly sized when compared to the grander monasteries further uphill; however, a certain energy hums in the air – subtle yet powerful.

Nyingma Monastery is one of the oldest Buddhist centres in Bir, renowned for its meditative calm and welcoming of both earnest seekers and idle wanderers like me.

It’s a hot afternoon and I’m the only visitor on the premises. Outside, I find two giggling novices offering their prayers playfully and wonder if they are supposed to be inside the prayer hall. I can’t help but smile at their irrepressible youth; trying to get the right postures consulting each other with those childish mannerisms – a natural for their age.

The novices in action

While the pictures can’t capture their innocent laughter

With gentle bows, I seek permission to join the main prayer hall from one of the monks. The atmosphere is so overwhelming that I slip quietly into a row behind a thick pillar, intending not to make myself visible. The monks sit in straight lines facing each other, dressed in saffron and maroon robes. The chant rises in a synchronised rhythm. At regular intervals, a pair of monks stand to light the pyre. While the experienced of the lot is reading out of their scriptures; some young ones are probably finding it difficult to sit through, smiling, talking to each other and getting distracted occasionally. As if in a trance; I drift away into a profound stillness losing all sense of time.

After the ceremony, I slowly get up and take a look around especially at the decorated walls. They are a feast with golds, reds, and blue swirling around painted Buddhas. An elderly monk stays back for a conversation with me and we exchange pleasantries.

Witnessing the ceremonial proceedings from a corner

In awe of the finesse – Reds, Blues, Golds, Greens and more

I step out looking around more closely and discover the monastery’s full name written by a handicrafts shop—Ngagyur Palyul Choekhorling Monastery. If you ever get a chance to visit, do not miss the community-run shops here with traditional handicrafts on display.

Hunger gnaws at me and I duck into a small shop by the bus stand. No fancy menus here, only the safety of rajma chawal which has become my go to diet throughout. Yet in a fit of indecision, I add a parantha to my order. I regret this soon, as two enormous ones arrive. I soldier through, more from guilt over waste than appetite. By the end, I am so full I can barely move—today’s lunch will carry me, tortoise-like, through the hours to come.

With lethargic steps, I slowly walk till Chougan, then set course for Upper Bir. If you want to live few miles away from the main town, this stretch is perfect. It’s worth noting that while booking accommodation in Bir, locations can be misleading. Many guesthouses aren’t within the proper town. Be prepared for short walks or rides.

Guardians of the surroundings 😊

Places to slow down and catch a breath

The weather turns pleasant gradually and I walk aimlessly amongst picture postcard set ups. The familiar longing to settle down in the mountains someday seeps in. The landscape changes as I rise higher—fields blur into clusters of cozy homes, vast fields and suddenly the main town feels miles behind. This stretch is quieter, perfect for anyone wishing to live a little apart.  

Quieter stretches

The heavy lunch slows me down. I decide to take a break at a tiny tea shop in Village Kotli. A handful of local women running the stall welcome me. One by one, more women gather to attend their only visitor. Their dialect is thick but there’s an uncanny familiarity in how they chat, laugh, and share chores gently reminding me of the universal language of women. They generously show me a shortcut that leads me on toward Upper Bir and the main bus stand. It doesn’t take long.

Rain clouds mass again, and I notice the streets emptying —everyone ducking indoors hastily. Its late afternoon already and seems it will be dark before the evening hours.

Capturing these beautiful women from far as a memory

Ok, so I made it till here

And then…Making my way back to the main town

Cold drops chase me as I make my final stop while heading back – Tsering Jong Monastery. Set away from the main bustle, this peaceful monastery stands guard at the very entrance to the main town. It flanks a field brimming with prayer flags flickering in the breeze. I recall the fierce sound of barking dogs the other day and hesitate to go inside. As if answering my inner turmoil, the caretaker steps in and assures that they are no harm and invites me. The prayer hall is already closed and I slowly proceed to look around the campus.

The architecture is striking—carved woodwork, paintings, and vibrant interiors.

Entramce to Tsering Jong Monastery     

The colorful and peaceful compound of Tsering Jong Monastery 

Rain begins again in earnest. Drenched and content, I race back to my humble abode – “The Chokling Art house”, peel off my wet shoes, and stretch out, listening to the steady drum of rain. Another day in Bir—unplanned, unscripted, and exactly as it should be.

In July 2023, I explored the Kangra Valley at a leisurely pace; however, the heavy rain and disaster alert made me cut short my adventure. I headed back to Delhi. I was capturing each day through my blog as diary entries. This one remained unpublished.

Here’s an account of my first day in Bir Bir – Of Mountains, Monasteries and Meditation

Follow the real time travel story of my Kangra journey from the beginning – Himachal Diaries 🙂

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