Back from the Himalayas

I have lost count of the number of times I have visited Manali and trekked the mountains around it. It's become a routine holiday -- I let the summer set in, hop on to the Paschim Express, let it take me to Chandigarh. Then I wait to be transported by road to Manali, bearing witness to the strangeness of a new state. It never seems familiar.
The road journey gets cold by the night, I keep my winter clothes handy to shield myself from the pleasant, teasing cold winds rushing in from the window of the car/bus. Let them brush my hair till I suspect they'd make for a knotty, troublesome morning.
When it's just about dawn, I step into Manali. Breathe the cold, calm air and feel unusually at home. Routine. Routine but equally, if not increasingly, exciting with each passing visit. It was the same when I went this time -- routine yet exciting.
I have a strange affinity to the place. Every time I come to Manali, I see the place worsening -- with its traffic, pollution, congestion, tourism et al -- but there is still something that makes me want to return. It's been three days since I have arrived in Bombay and I want to return. Return soon.
The Himalayas around the city are overwhelming in their stature. But I find their presence reassuring. They are stable -- they have been there for hundreds of years and will remain so for many hundreds to come. It has resisted change in the past and will continue to in the future.
Reassuring to me!