The hike to Vasundhara falls was only another five miles but after the long trek earlier that morning I was moving slowly and tired. Arriving, I dropped my pack and sat in the dirt exhausted. Over my shoulder and up the hill a voice invited me to tea. Sitting on the rocks was a shaggy haired man wrapped in a blanket motioning me to come up and join him. I grabbed my bag and hiked up to his stone shelter and took the hot flower tea that was prepared by his attendant. I smiled and nodded at him also. He pointed at the flowers that the tea was made from.

I sipped the brew, sitting on the rock bench next to him and marveled at the towering peaks and the valley that snaked far into the mountains. I asked the name of one peak and he laughed as I repeated the name, enjoying my poor pronunciation. Soon, five men hiking up the trail joined us. Taking off their shoes they knelt down and pressed their heads on the feet of my new friend, a holy man, a sadhu. They then bowed to me. Reverence by association.

Vasundhara Falls