One of our team members, Swati, persistently urged me to check the Instagram profile of Walden Living in Punjab.
These were the nascent days at Raahghar, and our focus was predominantly on discovering homestays around Bombay and South India.
Walden Living, nestled in Ropar just 50 km away from Chandigarh, wasn’t initially prioritized on our list of properties to visit, especially considering April wasn’t the most suitable time for a trip to Chandigarh.
After nearly two weeks had drifted by, and even to the point where I had momentarily forgotten how to pronounce “Walden,” its Instagram page worked its magic on me.
Upon glimpsing its social media posts, the initial impression of this lovely example of modern architecture was the skillful use of earthy tones. I recall drifting away from perceiving Walden Living, Punjab as a ‘homestay’ on my visit list and instead, thinking of it as a tastefully done personal home. It didn’t take an additional two weeks for me to reach out to Sidharth – the owner of Walden Living. The very moment I acknowledged the need to pry my eyes away from its captivating images, I had already approached Swati to request Sidharth’s contact details once more. When I dialed his number, a husky voice greeted me from the other end of the line, and Siddharth exuded a certain ‘maasoomiyat’ in his demeanor, sparking thoughts of when I might have the privilege of talking with this man face-to-face for real.
I believe it took an additional call from the ‘Dauladhar’ mountain ranges in Himachal to prompt me to book a flight to Chandigarh and drive to Walden Living sometime in April. I distinctly remember the pleasant experience as I stepped out of the car, not only due to the comfortable temperature but also due to the ambiance of the farms in Punjab in this particular part of the state. As I progressed further away from the highway and towards the Shivalik mountain range, the road leading to Walden gradually grew narrower. However, this was the highlight of the drive as the terrain transformed from lush green fields to a semi-arid atmosphere at the foothills of the Shivaliks. It felt almost surreal, as I didn’t expect the sight of these mountains.
The gates of Walden Living swung open, and a very cheerful, tall, and well-built man guided me toward the parking area. It appeared that a portion of the farm was still under construction, which I later learned would become the home for Sidharth and his parents, who had decided to relocate from Delhi.
“Hey Mayur,” I recognized Sidharth’s voice, standing on the other side of the construction site, accompanied by his four-legged companion, Ballu. We exchanged handshakes and pleasantries before he directed me to one of the Courtyard rooms situated at a slightly elevated point on the farm. Ballu walked alongside us, leading the way to my room.
There was a fleeting moment of silence between us during the walk. This comfortable quietness served as an encouraging indicator of the verbal communication that would unfold in the times ahead. Somewhere along the path to my room, I realized that I didn’t even need to check the room or assess other aspects of the property to be convinced of including it in the Raahghar Collective of Homestays.
I wasn’t tired, but I still felt like lying horizontally on the charpai, which was aesthetically placed in the aangan of my room. The evening had begun to unfold in the sky, and the sun had grown warmer. The colorful mattress of the charpai had a comforting touch to it, partly from being exposed to the open air all day and partly from the skilled hands of its weaver, who I later learned was located only 50 km away from Walden.
It was only after I saw Mark swaying in the hammock that I sensed the presence of other guests besides myself. The rest of the inhabitants at Walden Living, Punjab were its permanent residents—like the peacocks and other birds returning to their nests in the evening, the cows that had made Walden their home, or even the roses in the garden that would create the most delightful gulakand. I’m attempting to abstain from getting poetic, but I distinctly recall feeling that way when Sidharth and I ascended to a viewing platform above the farm, soaking in the surroundings against the backdrop of the setting sun.
We were both sipping on our drinks when the Hung curd Kebabs arrived, accompanied by an array of other small bites that the chef was experimenting with. I was asked to provide an honest opinion regarding my impressions of the sampling platter, but eventually, Sidharth seemed to let go of the expectation. For the first five minutes of the tasting, I scarcely glanced at him. He had adjusted the level of chili in the dishes, considering my previous preference.
The delightful flavors on the plate kept me so engrossed that I waited to refill my drink until my stomach had no room for more food.
The second drink was enjoyed out on the porch, under the night sky where we engaged in conversations about our travels and the people we had encountered along the way. I believe it was only when I was headed back to my room, that the realization dawned upon me—I should wake up early the following day to engage in an hour of work discussion with Sidharth.
Spacious bathrooms are a true luxury, not just for someone hailing from Bombay but for anyone in general. I had seen the bathroom earlier in daylight, but now, at night with the mood lighting, it assumed a completely different character. The shower provided just the right pressure, perfect for unwinding after a day of travel. However, what I loved the most was the mattress. It was adorned with a hand-loomed fabric from a local artisan community. A soft light peeked in from behind the linen curtains, but it didn’t bother me, and I was fast asleep before realizing I needed to pull up the sheet.
Sometime around dawn, the air conditioning began to affect me, prompting me to wake up and turn it off. The room was bathed in balmy spring sunlight seeping through the curtains. I stepped outside, stretched, and breathed in the morning air, immersing myself in the surroundings. The morning chill, the distant calls of peacocks, and the forthcoming breakfast were a blessing for the senses.
I had a flight to Dharamshala, so I left early. That one hour that I thought we would squeeze in never happened, but both Siddharth and I let it slip. Ballu stared at me when I put the car in reverse gear, and when I was ready to say my goodbyes to Sidharth with the first gear, I knew the journey with Walden Living had just begun.
I had a flight to Dharamshala, so I departed early. The one-hour conversation that I had hoped we would find time for never materialized, but both Siddharth and I let it slide. Ballu gazed at me as I shifted the car into reverse gear, and when I was about to bid goodbye to Sidharth in first gear, I sensed that the journey with Walden Living, Punjab had just begun.
