How a 15-Day Stay in a Quiet Manali Village Taught Me the Beauty of Slowing Down

The same sun goes down every day, the same sun comes up every day – the world around me is exactly the same.

We are always in a rush – hurrying to wake up, eat, commute, work, and sleep, just to repeat it all over again. Lost in routines, we rarely stop to ask for new directions — and even if we do, no one has time to answer. The clock is always ticking and the mind is always sprinting – I don’t remember the last time I cooked myself a heartfelt meal.

My phone never had the pleasure to say that ‘you have no alarms today’, of course, there are weekends – but they feel less like a break and more like an escape.

And then one day I felt like taking a train that goes opposite from the usual old life – a place where I can stay in the moment – a life that is relaxing, quite, and peaceful.

A few days later, I found myself at Kullu, Manali with a Promise that my time here will be entirely mine – no phone calls, no work, and no hurry.

Checked into my sister’s place – where the mountains felt like canvas painting, the river murmured with nature’s gentle laughter, and the towering pine trees lined up like old friends, arms wide open in welcome.

I remember sipping hot chocolate and gazing at the mountains from my door-sized windows for like 5 hours or maybe 8… I can’t really tell, as the volume of overthinking in my head was turned down.

At that very moment, I understood the meaning of ‘I Lost Myself Only to Find Myself’. I wasn’t there to find the hidden attractions near Manali like every other Traveler but to treat myself with plenty of sleep, to learn the art of doing nothing and still feel content, to take long walks without thinking what’s on my plate for tomorrow, to stockpile the peaceful countryside in my subconscious mind and visualize it from any corner of the world, to eat peacefully without looking at my watch, and to read books that felt like a softened life.

I spent days in quiet solitude, feeling no urge to speak — just lost in my books and watching the sunset slip through the soft gaps between the pine trees – the same sun was going down every day, the same sun was coming up every day – but this time it felt sufficient for my soul.

At this point where my body was synchronizing with my mind, I realized what slowing down feels like – It felt like a luxury to me and it has now become a luxury for most of the cubicle dwellers.

At some point we all felt like our life isn’t ours anymore – now it belongs to tight deadlines, traffic jams, 10-minutes fast foods, social media, digital devices, and unrealistic relationships?

When was the last we stayed in the moment – the moment where our focus is only on having food and not thinking what to do after lunch – the moment where we are truly listening to someone without interrupting them or preparing for a response – the moment where we ask our friends to meet at a café and sincerely mean that.

“I wasn’t ready to part ways with Kothi village just yet — I had only begun to uncover its quiet reading nooks, mind-clearing treks, and cozy cafés that fed more than just my hunger. There were paths through the village where every step felt like a return to me.”

Few truly understand how hard it is to say goodbye to the kind of peace you’ve spent your whole life searching for. But this time, I wasn’t leaving empty-handed — I carried with me a quiet sense of emotional wellbeing, a deeper connection to the world around me, a focus on what truly matters and a heart tuned to the rhythm of minimalism.

And the only question that popped up in my head was how will I be able to live gently in a world that’s always rushing