Here’s a tale to chill your bones, from the cold deserts of Jispa, Himachal Pradesh. I had set out to explore the villages enroute Baralacha, and  I was accompanied by this local storyteller. He suggested that I keep my eyes fixed on the right side of the stretch leading me to Jispa. I take the road to this village amidst Juniper trees, with rare sights of dry river beds, sand and stones, by the Bhaga river in Lahaul. As I passed these rocks that seemed as if doused in oil; Thakurji – a respected villager in Lahaul, spun a tale for me.  Hailing from a family with roots in the remotest villages of Lahaul, they knew the place by the back of their hands. They had grown up with these tales, as their grandmothers weaved magic for them under the starlit skies. He added “The oiled rocks have been such, since this village was washed away by a flood and avalanche.” The story only got spookier. The locals believe that they can still hear the shrieks of the villagers in the night, when you camp in Jispa. He spiced it further with another version coming from his grandfather too; that the event occurred when a rich family of that village refused to help a pregnant beggar.  Setting up Zen stones with a prayer by the river, he smirked with such conviction in his eyes “You can believe it only when you have been a part of the experience.” #Folklores

Image Credits and Source: Clicked by Divya Prasad – Obsessive Compulsive Traveller


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