With 25 thousand tourists a year, Kasol isn't a secluded part of the hills anymore. It is growing and so are the locals out there. They never imagined that people would come rushing in for the river that flows so fiercely that it becomes an echo in the minds that land up there. Soft minds, or to be softened minds.
We don't know if its famous for its brilliant charas,the beauty, or the crowd which definitely looks more creative than a club on Saturday night at haus khaz. We don't know if it is the plant (widely available everywhere anyway) or the freedom to smoke it that brings the modern Indian hippie culture together.
From debates that have neither legalized it nor told us the reasons for why is it still illegal, parvati valley offers a getaway for all since the spliffs have been lit from either side of the debates.
The beauty of the place, the plants,trees hills and even the evening breeze, the nutella crepes, the bridge that has been swinging between chalaal and Kasol and the thrill of walking on it (at least for the first time), the religious brand ambassadors lighting up chillums, the group of friends who have lied to their parents saying they are in manali and are found holding coconut shells as their crushing bowls in an environment which has almost a nil chance of violence when compared to our country's capital are smiling after smoking the joint they just rolled pushes me to question if we are fighting the right war at all.
The perspective on marijuana is changing with the western culture realising what they did was wrong. Take off the blindfolds of fear of the unknown. Know and not believe. Research and not agree to voices that apparently lead us to a brighter tomorrow. Marijuana isn't a big deal, the fear of it is.
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