People make places is a maxim that I often believe in . Very often a journey is made endearing or inspiring because of some people you meet on the way. Sometimes its just a few minutes of interactions , but very often they make such a lasting impression

The boy lamas at Bylakuppe, a Tibetan settlement at Coorg told me their stories about how they had braved the cold, harsh landscapes and the Chinese to make their way down to India. They were probably of the age when most kids down here play cricket on streets with gay abandon. Some of them had even lost their parents in the journey or had left them behind in Tibet .

I met forest guards in the jungles of Karnataka who narrated stories of how they protected themselves from man and beast. In the fishing camps of the river Cauvery, dynamite is often used to kill the Mahsheer fish by poachers and some of the naturalists I had met in the local resorts were former fishermen who are now brand ambassadors of conservation. I met Naik who had even gone to court to file a case against his own brother who was a fisherman once upon a time. Today, both the brothers conserve the Mahsheer, the game fish sought after by anglers all over the world.

Such tales of inspiration and courage are at every nook and corner of every journey . Passion is another quality that I see in ordinary people which make them lead extra ordinary lives. These are men and women who leave the comfort of their homes to follow their hearts. I met a local , Swamy in Kamalapura near Hampi who runs a stationery shop. His passion for birds and bears and photography has transformed him into a conservator and he manages the forest guest house.

I met a Jain Kuruba or a tribal who collects honey in the forests of Karnataka At a time when most of his colleagues were braving the bees and the bears to collect honey, he went on to study English in a local school and even educated his wife and kids. Today he works in a luxury resort entertaining guests .

However this story belongs to Dorjee who drove us around Ladakh last year. Ladakh is more about people than landscapes and if you have not interacted with the local people, then your trip has not been worthwhile. Dorjee belonged to Zanskar, where his wife and children stayed. He spent six months a year in Leh, making money for the entire year when he returned to Zanskar for the off season and bitter winter. He was full of energy and he had a never say die attitude. Tough and strong, Dorjee would brave anything . He introduced us to ladakhi culture, told us about his family and sang Ladakhi songs to us. However he was not just a travel companion

It happenned on the fag end of our Ladakh trip when we were returning to Leh via Tso kar . It was to be our last day in Leh.We had just entered the Taglang la pass at 17,500 feet when it just started to snow. It was early September and I was experiencing snow in ladakh for the first time. While I started taking photographs , Dorjee frowned. Coming from a man who would throw caution to the winds, the frown meant trouble. He urged us to get into the jeep and we barely crossed the pass when the snow storm started. We continued for a few minutes when Dorjee spied a truck on the opposite end struggling its way. Dorjee stopped saying it would be a bad idea to continue and just then we realized the truck had stopped. A bus with the local police force arrived behind us wondering why we had stopped. They analysed the situation and said there was nothing to be done until the truck moved or the storm quelled. The snow filled up the roads steadily as more vehicles piled up on either side. It slowly became an hour and Dorjee told us how dangerous it had been in earlier situations. We asked him for options. He shrugged saying either the truck had to be thrown into the valley or we have to wait and it could be days if the storm didnt subside . Suddenly he lost patience.

He stepped out into the storm amidst or protests and didnt return for another 50 minutes. Then as I saw through my binoculars, Dorjee was single handedly removing the snow from the road with his own hands and some crude instruments he picked up later. He barely wore anything to protect him from the cold except a cap and a thin jacket. Soon some locals joined in and they shoved the snow away so that the road was cleared, even though the storm continued though the intensity had come down.

Dorjee later told me that the truck driver was afraid his vehicle would skid, but he would do nothing about the snow. However Dorjee didnt just save the day – he just displayed what a Ladakhi spirit is..” madam, all of us locals..we fought in the kargil war..do you know that ..? was his parting shot as we drive down hill.