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Memories of Satara

Last September, we were in Satara for a weekend getaway. Saturday was a tame affair, for we reached the town only in the afternoon. After spending the evening on Ajinkyatara we retired early, for we wanted to be completely rested for a hectic Sunday.

Over breakfast, we talked about the plans for the day. After a brief discussion, we decided to visit Sajjangadh, Chalkewadi (a windmill farm) and Thosegar (gorgeous waterfalls). We set out at a leisurely pace, and rolled the windows down – although it was the monsoon season, the air was warm.

By noon, we had left Sajjangadh behind and were moving towards Chalkewadi. As we crossed Thosegar, the road started to climb, and the air became noticeably cooler as we gained altitude. Half an hour later, we reached Chalkewadi. I glanced over my shoulder – my daughter was very sleepy. I drove on, until we reached a small stone bridge over a narrow stream of water. I parked the car at the side of the road, and wedged rocks under the wheels for extra precaution. My wife put our daughter to sleep on the rear seat, and then stepped out to join me.

We sat beside the car, on the bridge’s arch. All of a sudden, it started to drizzle, and we huddled together – a single jacket over our shoulders, and one umbrella to keep us dry. Beyond the meadow was an endless line of windmills, all turning slowly with the wind.

Yes, we did not visit every place we intended to that day. But happiness is in enjoying the journey, and not in just reaching the destination.

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