The Roads We Took, the Stories We Found: Abhishek’s Family Trip to Nepal
Abhishek had always believed that journeys were meant to be unplanned, raw, and filled with stories you could never think of. However, this trip to Nepal was different. It was about his family. Five people, five perspectives, and one road trip that promised chaos, laughter, and - if the travel gods were kind - a few moments of quiet wonder.
It started with his sisters fighting over window seats even before their taxi from Gorakhpur rolled out. His younger sister sat with her earbuds firmly in place pretending to be unbothered by the disturbance. His mother tried to mediate with practised patience, while his father simply smiled. He had seen this play out too many times to intervene.
“Nepal better be worth this,” Abhishek muttered to himself as they crossed into the land of mountains and myths.
Lumbini: Where Silence Speaks
Lumbini greeted them with a quietness that seemed almost unnatural after hours on the road. The Maya Devi Temple stood like a guard of time, its ancient aura making even the sisters fall silent. Moreover, the courtyard buzzed with pilgrims and their murmured prayers blended into the rustling of Bodhi leaves.
“It is just a tree,” his younger sister said sceptically as they stood under the sacred Bodhi tree.
His elder sister turned to her with twinkling eyes. “And yet, under a tree like this, someone found enlightenment. Imagine what you could find if you listened.”
Abhishek chuckled as his younger sister rolled his eyes, but he noticed the girl was unusually quiet for the rest of the visit. Perhaps her sister’s words had lingered longer than she would admit.
Their rickshaw ride through the sprawling Lumbini Garden became a parade of cultures, each vihara telling a different story. Japanese minimalism, Thai grandeur, Tibetan serenity - each one was a piece of the puzzle that made up the global tapestry of Buddhism. The elder sister could not stop taking photos, while the younger one reluctantly admitted that the place was “pretty cool” as she framed a shot of a monk walking past a golden pagoda.
The Call of the Wild
Chitwan was the opposite of Lumbini - a buzz of life, colour, and nature in its rawest form. The excitement of the Bhandaris was contagious.
Their safari began early the next morning, and the family piled into a jeep with an overly enthusiastic guide who promised rhino sightings. True to his word, they saw a mother rhino with her calf wading through a marsh.
“Did you know rhinos are really shy creatures?” the younger sister asked, her camera snapping furiously.
“I can relate,” Abhishek muttered, earning a laugh from the younger one.
However, the highlight was the canoe ride. As they floated along the calm waters of the Rapti River, crocodiles basked on the banks, their stillness both mesmerising and unnerving. The younger sister held Abhishek’s arm tightly. “If this boat flips, you are saving me first.”
“Deal,” he said with a smile.
That evening, the family watched a Tharu cultural dance, with the younger sister excitedly volunteering to join in. Her clumsy yet enthusiastic moves left everyone, especially their father, in splits. “That is my girl,” he declared, clapping louder than anyone else.
Where Mountains Touch the Sky
The road to Pokhara was long and winding, but the reward was worth it. The sight of the Annapurna range appearing in the distance took everyone’s breath away. For the elder sister, Pokhara was the highlight of the trip - a chance to chase sunrises and sunsets with her camera.
The family woke at an ungodly hour to catch the sunrise at Sarangkot. As the first rays of sunlight bathed the peaks in gold, even the usually calm Abhishek was surprised.
“Do you think the mountains ever get tired of being photographed?” he asked his elder sister.
“They are eternal. They do not care about us at all,” she replied, her voice filled with respect.
Later, a boat ride on Fewa Lake offered a different kind of serenity. The younger sister insisted on rowing, nearly tipping the boat over in her enthusiasm. Mr Bhandari laughed so hard that he nearly dropped his phone into the water. Meanwhile, his mother made her way to the island temple of Tal Barahi, lighting a lamp for each of her children.
“What did you pray for?” Abhishek asked as she returned.
“For you to find your path,” she replied simply.
The Devi’s Falls and the Gupteshwor Cave added a sense of adventure to their stay in Pokhara. Abhishek’s younger sister loved the legends associated with the cave, especially the one about the secret passage of the waterfall to the underworld.
A Peaceful Goodbye in Nagarkot
Their last stop was the hill station of Nagarkot, which is known for its panoramic views of the Himalayas. Here, the air was fresher which made you breathe a little deeper and feel a little more alive.
The family spent the day exploring the trails, with his father leading the way like a seasoned trekker. His elder sister, who had taken a hundred photos already, found herself attracted to a group of local children playing with a handmade kite. She clicked away, but eventually put her camera down to join them.
As the sun began to set, the family gathered on the rooftop of the hotel. The sky was a masterpiece, with hues of orange, pink, and violet bleeding into one another. His mother pulled a shawl around her shoulders and sighed. “This is peace,” she said softly.
His younger sister leaned against Abhishek and her chatter was finally replaced by silence. While the elder one sat cross-legged with her camera resting in her lap, too mesmerised to use it. The father stood at the edge of the balcony, with his hands in his pockets, soaking in the view.
Abhishek looked at them all and smiled. For once, there was no quarrelling, no rushing, no distractions - just a family caught in a fading moment of perfection, with the Himalayas standing as eternal witnesses to their journey.
Read More: Thrillophilia Nepal Reviews