nce was piercing down the ears with hardly people seen around or shops open or the women working on their grasslands. Unlike regular hill stations receiving heavy tourist flocks who love to shop around the mall roads, visiting tiffin-top and posing for snaps every 500 meters, I find this place absolutely abnormal. But then I am abnormal too.
BHOWALI
Note: Mukteshwar is some 50kms from Nainital (via Bhowali) and some 350 kms from Delhi. It sits an altitude of 2286 mtrs and is quite a peaceful hill station. It has an open valley view to both its sides and snow clad Himalayan peaks can be seen all over.
I visited Mukteshwar on local villager’s suggestion that I met in a local bus while returning back from Nainital after a night’s stay at a friend’s place. It was 2:30 around in noon and I was waiting for the bus for Ranikhet at Bhowali, completely lost in thoughts about the Naini peak that I trekked early this morning. The small bus written Mukteshwar painted in dark red words in Hindi suddenly crossed before me and I returned back to my sense. I remember the words of an elderly local villager whom I had chatted with about Mukteshwar. But my plan was to visit Ranikhet with a friend insisting upon the same. The bus conductor shouted and the word Mukteshwar again hit me hard. I was thinking hard now which way while sipping upon my tea and ‘aaloo ki lauje’ – a sweetmeat made of potatoes, famous in the area. The bus blew the final horn and next moment I find myself approaching the bus. Inside bus, it was almost half filled. And we boarded afte
r a brief protest by this friend along.
Seen here is the road that goes up to Mukteshwar Dham (temple of Shiva), Edward Hostel, KMVN, PWD House, and IVRI employee some places to visit.
Mukteshwar is the land’s end with so called resorts and bare minimum facilities on a slope uphill. The accommodation is costly all around wherever we checked. PWD guest house requires booking from district magistrate’s office in Nainital. Then we arrived at the IVRI PG hostel named as Edward Hostel. I was told about this by the caretaker Jagat Singh, of PWD guesthouse. At the hostel, Bhatt, the care taker, made us write the application for accommodation and then asked us to get it signed by the warden who lived just across down the hostel. We waited for this Bengali warden to come outside his residence but the wife said he is out and would be coming after half
an hour. We were tired and not sure whether we would get the accommodation in hostel. PG Hostel/Edward Hostel, IVRI
I again approached Bhattji. He offered his help and politely gave us the room that costs Rs. 60 and dinner at 9, for another Rs. 60 for two.
The next day I got up early and started surveying the place. Mukteshwar was the place I was longing for. As I took the stroll, I again met Jagat Singh. We shared tea while he described the scenery around about the Himalayas citing name of the peaks visible to naked eye. We had a long discussion from political state of affairs to social developments in the region of Kumaon hills. He is the man of knowledge though the evening when I met him, he was drunk and smelling of alcohol. He asked for apology for not giving us the place to stay for the last night and gave the reason that some Hig
h court magistrate was scheduled to come over who never came anyway.
PWD Rest House
His wife and son also did talked about land prices in Mukteshwar and the real estate developers and dealers mad about purchasing land and turning them to resorts. Our Delhi tops the list ofcourse. There concern were same as the concerns of another one crore population living in thousands of villages over the hills.
After a discussion I returned back to hostel, we took parantha with aloo ki sabzi and chai and left with our bags. Chauli ki Jali is the place where we sat for quite some time observing perfect peace and wondering what if all that becomes true about what all Jagat Singh and family talked about on land purchases, builders and so called resorts in the area. 
As we prepared to come back to catch up the bus at 12 in noon from Mukteshwar, I purchased envelop from post office to write to myself and see when it reaches me. It was childish but something which I planned and very keen upon doing from a long time. The postmaster gave 2 envelopes costing a rupee. I was left with another one thinking how to use.
I remember on my return I wrote the very same postcard to Jagat Singh expressing my gratitude while I thanked in my mind, the unknown villager that I met in the bus for recommending me peace beyond peace. And, now, I await my postcard that I wrote from Mukteshwar to myself to arrive. 
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