One fine afternoon, we found ourselves under the unofficial dictatorship of a saffron-clad yogi. His orders were swift, his authority unquestioned—at least by Bhavook, who, in his infinite politeness, couldn’t say no. The rest of us? Well, we were just collateral damage. And thus, we unwillingly became errand boys for a holy man on a mission.

Luckily, salvation came the next day in the form of Jayant and a newly married couple. Their arrival provided the perfect excuse to break free from the saffron man’s to-do list. Our escape route? A serene retreat to Tapovan, where the famous Little Buddha Café awaited. Overlooking the mighty Ganga, this place had all the makings of a backpacker’s paradise—soulful ambiance, delicious coffee, and a menu featuring everything from crispy sandwiches to wood-fired pizza. The place buzzed with energy, as travelers and yogis gathered to sip on ice tea, watch the river flow, and observe rafts battling the rapids.

Sitting there, amidst the rhythmic strumming of guitars and the aroma of brewing coffee, I felt oddly at home. Sure, I was an outsider, but not completely out of place. And for a moment, we forgot about the saffron man.

The Saffron Man’s Grand Mission

Curiosity got the better of me, and I finally asked Bhavook what the deal was with our newfound spiritual supervisor. Turns out, this wasn’t their first encounter. Bhavook had met him the previous year at Kedarnath, where the yogi had devised a noble plan—setting up a tented shelter for stranded pilgrims caught in unpredictable snowstorms and rains. His goal? To provide free lodging in the harshest conditions. Lofty ambitions, indeed.

The next thing I knew, we were headed to Haridwar, negotiating for 100 quilts at a discount. The saffron man had a way with people—shopkeepers, ashram dwellers, and now, us. His plans didn’t end at offering shelter; he was also determined to build a Hanuman temple in the mountains. And, like it or not, we were now part of his crew.

Escape, Interrupted

Despite our noble involvement, we weren’t entirely on board for a life of unpaid labor. We sneaked away whenever we could, venturing into the jungles, visiting hidden waterfalls, and encountering wandering yogis. One particularly intriguing stop was Chaurasi Kutiya, an old, abandoned ashram under archaeological survey, once graced by none other than The Beatles in the 1960s. Nestled in the jungle, this place held an aura of serenity, with meditation huts and walls adorned with psychedelic murals. It was the kind of place where one could truly lose track of time—if only the saffron man weren’t waiting.

The Reluctant Chauffeurs

Before we knew it, our roles evolved from errand boys to personal chauffeurs. The yogi, draped in his saffron robes, required a vehicle to transport supplies to the mountains. Jayant and his friend volunteered their car, while the rest of us—well, we didn’t really have a choice. The day unfolded in a chaotic symphony of bargaining at vegetable markets, picking up essentials from grocery stores, and enduring the saffron man’s never-ending monologues about the challenges of setting up shelter at 11,000 feet.

Meanwhile, the newlyweds and Jayant’s friend had it easy, chilling by the ghat, soaking in the laid-back Rishikesh vibes.

Race Against Time and Rain

Evenings were meant for escaping to Tapovan, and this day was no exception. With a promise to return to the ashram by 9 PM, we set off, eager for some downtime. But the Himalayas had other plans. By the time we reached the café, the sky darkened, and a chilly breeze hinted at the storm ahead. Within minutes, heavy raindrops pelted down, forcing us to huddle inside a crowded café, while Jayant and his friend found shelter under a nearby roof.

Hunger trumped patience, and soon enough, cheese toast and tea made their way to our table. We indulged, waiting for the rain to let up. By the time we got moving again, it was already past 9 PM. The calls from the saffron man started rolling in. We braced ourselves for a sermon on punctuality and self-discipline. When we finally reached the ashram at 9:30 PM, the doors, thankfully, were still open.

A Business Proposal in the Mountains

Just as we thought the day was over, the saffron man had one last surprise. He pulled up a seat, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mysticism and entrepreneurial ambition. What followed was an unexpected business pitch—an invitation to spend six months in the mountains, all expenses covered. In return? Spiritual enlightenment, kriya lessons, and the exciting (yet highly questionable) opportunity to acquire land and set up tented accommodations near Kedarnath Temple.

The plan was already in motion—he owned land (or so he claimed) and was determined to house at least 20 pilgrims, eventually expanding into a full-fledged sanctuary. The only thing missing? Us. Our skepticism was evident, but so was our intrigue. There was something about his conviction that made us want to at least entertain the idea. And so, I agreed to check out Kedarnath in April, just before the temple reopened. Jayant and Sahil would follow later, while Bhavook and Ashi would handle logistics.

The Adventure Continues…

What started as an attempt to escape mundane tasks had now evolved into something far bigger. A Himalayan adventure, a potential business venture, and perhaps, a detour on the road to spiritual enlightenment.

Would the saffron man’s dreams materialize? Would we become mountain entrepreneurs? Or was this just another chapter in an ever-growing book of impulsive decisions? Only time would tell.

One thing was certain—April was going to be interesting.