r/Uttarakhand

A “bugyal” is a high-altitude Himalayan meadow or grassland found mainly in regions like Uttarakhand. These meadows are known for their natural beauty, wildflowers, and fragile ecosystem. Many bugyals are protected because rare plants and animals grow there, and too much human activity can damage them.

Post link: https://www.reddit.com/r/Haryana/s/gS27RboZww

पहाड़ों में लोकपर्व धार्मिक आस्था और संस्कृति का पर्याय माने जाते है । इन में से कुछ ऐसे पर्व भी है जो खुद में खास महत्व लिए हुए हैं । सोरघाटी पिथौरागढ़ में मनाए जाने वाला एक ऐसा ही ऐतिहासिक लोकपर्व है हिलजात्रा, जो शायद ही कही और देखने को मिलता है और इसे खास बनाते हैं इस पर्व में इस्तेमाल होने वाले मुखौटे, इन मुखौटों का इतिहास बहुत ही पुराना है । जिसे नेपाल के राजा ने पिथौरागढ़ के कुमौड़ गांव में रहने वाले चार महर भाईयों को उनकी वीरता के प्रतीक के रूप में भेंट किये थे । ये मुखौटे महर भाईयों की वीरता के साथ ही सोरघाटी पिथौरागढ़ की सुख समृद्धि का प्रतीक भी माने जाते हैं , इन मुखौटों में बड़े और छोटे बैल, लखिया भूत और हिरन के मुखौटे शामिल है , लखिया भूत मुख्य मुखौटा है कुमौड गांव की हिलजात्रा का जो की भारी आकर्षण का केंद्र भी है । हिलजात्रा पर्व के दिन इन मुखौटों को पहनकर पात्र लोगों को पहाड़ के कृषि प्रेम से रूबरू कराते हैं । इस पर्व में पात्रों का रोमांचित करने वाला अभिनय दर्शकों को दांतों तले उंगली दबाने पर मजबूर कर देता है ।

These handmade metal flower pots are inspired by the traditional Aipan folk art of Uttarakhand, India 🇮🇳
Each pot is hand-painted with intricate Kumaoni patterns that blend traditional Indian artistry with modern home decor aesthetics.

Tried creating something that feels both cultural and cozy while keeping the beauty of authentic folk art alive

Got free from college a bit early today and randomly decided to visit Anand Vihar ISBT after almost 10 years. (Yes I am weird)

As a child, I used to travel from there to Uttarakhand with my family in those old UTC buses. Today I went there alone just to relive those childhood memories again as we rarely go by roadways bus now.

Sharing my experience in the form of a poem

Thirty Minutes at Anand Vihar

After twelve years

I returned

not to travel,

not to board a bus,

but simply to see

whether the old roads to home

still existed.

From the metro bridge

I searched through endless rows

of Uttar Pradesh buses

until, far away,

I saw them —

white and blue roofs

resting quietly at the edge of the station.

उत्तराखण्ड परिवहन निगम.

Suddenly

I was a child again.

Once, this bus stand

felt enormous.

I remember holding my father’s hand

as he walked fearlessly

through platforms and crowds

while I followed blindly,

wondering how he always knew the way.

But this time

I walked alone.

Counters 151 to 159.

Ranikhet.

Bageshwar.

Didihat.

Kausani.

Names painted beneath platform numbers

like memories refusing to fade.

I stood before a parked bus

with “दिल्ली – हल्द्वानी – रानीखेत”

written across its windshield,

and felt something strange —

pride, happiness, sadness,

all arriving together.

Nearby, a white Volvo waited silently,

the same kind

I once stared at as a child,

dreaming of someday sitting inside it

which I still do

Around me,

pahadi voices floated through the air:

“haan Anand Vihar pahuch gaya mai…”

“bus mil gayi Haldwani wali…”

“Garur wali ek ghante baad hai…”

For a moment

Delhi disappeared,

and the hills came closer.

But compared to childhood,

the platforms felt emptier.

No new buses arrived.

No songs played from the old stalls.

The magic felt quieter now.

Or maybe

I had simply grown older.

Before leaving,

I looked once more

at the parked Uttarakhand buses,

at the depot names in red paint,

at those familiar counters

where childhood once began every summer.

Then I turned away

and walked back toward the metro.

And while the train pulled away,

I wondered only one thing:

Will I ever again

read those route boards

with the same excitement

as the child

holding his father’s hand at night,

leaving Delhi

for the mountains?

(Refined with ChatGPT)

Bali Pass done! ~5000m, May 2026. The Har Ki Dun valley section is gorgeous ,think meadows, pine forests, and tiny Himalayan villages. Then the pass hits you like a wall of snow and altitude. Started the summit push at 3am, crossed by late morning before the snow softened.

Total route: Sankri to Yamunotri, ~6 days.

If you’re tired of crowded Himalayan treks, this one’s worth every bit of the effort.

📍 Ghanati gaon, Ghuttu bhilang, bhilangana block, Tehri Garhwal

Drop the most hardest picture from your gallery which you clicked somewhere in your trips 🤩

Kis kis ne join Kiya CJP ??