TRAVEL JOURNAL

Melghat Tiger Reserve — Where the Forest Still Breathes Wild

Tucked into the rugged folds of the Satpura ranges, Melghat Tiger Reserve in Maharashtra is not your typical tiger safari destination — and that’s precisely its charm.

This is wilderness in its raw, unfiltered form. Deep valleys, teak forests that glow gold in summer, mist-laced mornings in winter, and silence so profound you can hear your own heartbeat. Melghat isn’t about crowded jeep queues or predictable sightings. It’s about patience. It’s about reading pugmarks in dry riverbeds. It’s about listening to alarm calls ripple through the forest.

Home to the Bengal tiger, Indian gaur, sloth bear, wild dog, and over 250 species of birds, Melghat rewards the curious traveler — the one who values immersion over checklist tourism. Every turn feels intimate. Every sighting feels earned.

The terrain here is dramatic — steep ridges, narrow forest tracks, and seasonal streams carving their way through the land. Sunrise safaris are especially magical, when golden light filters through teak canopies and the forest slowly awakens.

But Melghat is more than wildlife. It is also home to indigenous Korku communities whose presence adds cultural depth to the landscape. Responsible travel here supports conservation and local livelihoods.

For those who seek the road less traveled — for photographers, storytellers, and true wilderness lovers — Melghat is a reminder of what forests were before we made them destinations.

Raw. Honest. Untamed.

If you’re ready to trade comfort for authenticity, Melghat is waiting.

Hanle to Umling La | Where Earth Ends & the Sky Begins 

The drive from Hanle to the world’s highest motorable road is a journey defined by altitude, isolation, and raw beauty. Leaving the quiet monastery behind, the road climbs steadily through Changthang’s stark high plains, where the air thins and the landscape becomes increasingly elemental. Vast open stretches, prayer flags fluttering in the wind, and distant snow-lined ridges create a sense of moving beyond the familiar.

As the road gains height, every turn feels earned. Oxygen drops, silence deepens, and the horizon seems endless. Reaching the highest motorable point is less about conquest and more about perspective—standing above the clouds, surrounded by nothing but mountains and sky, the journey humbles you, leaving a lasting imprint of Ladakh’s extreme and awe-inspiring scale.

Pangong To Hanle | Open Plateaus & Distant Horizons

The journey from Pangong to Hanle moves through some of Ladakh’s most remote and awe-inspiring landscapes. Leaving the blue stillness of Pangong behind, the road climbs gently across vast plateaus, where mountains stretch endlessly and human presence feels rare. The silence here is profound, broken only by the wind and the hum of tyres on empty tracks.

As the route winds deeper into Changthang, the scenery turns stark and elemental—wide valleys, grazing yaks, and sudden bursts of colour from high-altitude wetlands. Reaching Hanle feels like arriving at the edge of the world, where the monastery watches over an endless sky and time seems to slow, allowing the journey itself to become the destination.

Leh to Nubra | Where the Road Teaches Silence

The road from Leh to Nubra feels less like a journey and more like a quiet crossing into another state of being. As Khardung La rises, the air thins and the noise of the world falls away. Prayer flags flicker against an endless sky, and every pause feels intentional, as if the mountains themselves are asking you to slow down.

Beyond the pass, the landscape softens into wide valleys and braided rivers, where light shifts gently across sand and stone. Villages appear without announcement — whitewashed homes, fields held together by patience, children waving as you pass. There is no urgency here, only rhythm.

Traveling this stretch is not about reaching Nubra. It is about surrendering to scale, silence, and distance. The road teaches humility — reminding you how small you are, and how deeply comforting that feeling can be.

Ladakh | High Altitude Roads & Silent Valleys 

Ladakh met me not with drama, but with stillness. The roads here climb without urgency, curling through high passes as if they’ve learned patience from the mountains themselves. Every kilometre feels earned, every bend quieter than the last.

Valleys open up without warning — vast, empty, listening. There’s a hum in the silence, a presence that makes words feel unnecessary. I slow down without trying to. Breath becomes deliberate. Thoughts thin out, leaving only sky, stone, and the faint sound of tyres on ancient land.

Nothing here asks to be conquered or captured. Ladakh simply exists — and in doing so, gently reminds me how little is needed to feel grounded, small, and strangely whole.

India | From Coastlines to Cold Deserts

Road travel from Mumbai to Ladakh is a gradual unlearning of pace. The city fades behind in a blur of traffic and humidity, replaced by long highways, changing skies, and nights spent listening to unfamiliar silences. As the plains roll into hills and the air turns lighter, the journey begins to shape its own rhythm—early starts, endless roads, and conversations measured in kilometres.

Each state brings a subtle shift in colour and texture: green farmlands give way to dry plateaus, rivers narrow, and mountains begin to rise with quiet authority. Time stretches, distances feel abstract, and comfort becomes secondary to awareness. By the time Ladakh appears—stark, vast, and uncompromising—the road has already done its work. You arrive not just at a destination, but at a state of stillness, carrying the journey within you long after the engine falls silent.