When the day feels a little brighter https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monastery , and the hearts a little fuller, we know its time. The zipper hums shut, the doors swing open, and the world waits. With every mile, we carry our stories, our rituals, our roots, – wrapped in love and tied with laughter. So, welcome to “Bags Packed Hearts Full : Off We Go Together”.

“Festive Day?” . Cue the chaos, clothes folded, then unfolded. Snacks double packed. Music playlists ready. And suddenly we’re off, like we’re always are. Some same old roads, Some new. Same old jokes, and somehow it still feels new.

To know the deets of chazing horizons, our road trip to Kerala, click on Chasing Horizons : Road Tripping To Kerala – Wander, Feast & Thrive

Off We Go Together : Bags Packed Hearts Full

After more than thirty hours from Toronto and a five hour train ride from Chennai to Erode, everything led up to one reason – my aunt’s 60. Bags were barely unpacked after a cousin’s wedding at Palghat when the weekend arrived, and the urge for something new took hold. No long debates, no overplanning. Just the pull of family and the need for fresh air.

Saturday morning crawled past ten. Morning routines were done. Bags in the car, engines started. The road ahead twisted into 27 hairpin bends wrapped in grey clouds. The kind of weather Toronto knows by heart – but this time, it was part of the journey. On the way, lunch happened at Green Tara, a tibetan restaurant tucked between bends and whispers of pine. Steaming soup, vegetarian momos, veg manchurian, fried rice – flavors unfamiliar but comforting. Different from the usual temple – side thali. Different in a good way.

Two monasteries came next. One humble and silent. The other, the Dzogchen Monastery. Peace wasn’t just present—it was pressing against the skin, stilling the breath. No network bars. No distractions. Just stillness and something inexplicably grounding. Different from the usual rituals. Different in a lasting way.

Later, the car rolled downhill and back up to a resort in the midst of a forest. Rooms already reserved. One with a television that didn’t work, one without a television at all. Cell phones? Completely out of range since the climb. But that became part of the plan. Pool water cold enough to numb fingers and shiver our bodies. Wind cutting through layers like it had something to prove. Toronto in a different accent.

Unplugged 24 hours : Off We Go Together

The game room pulled everyone in. Carrom coins clacked. Table tennis paddles flew. Music carried through the walls. Dinner arrived hot and honest: chapati, dal, gobi 65, veg kurma, curd rice. Unfussy. Familiar. Perfect. Power cuts flickered the night into something slower and more real. Sleep came easy in the quiet.

Morning brought idlis, dosas, pongal, sambar, chutney, coffee, tea. No rush, no urgency. Plans to visit a farm slipped into disappointment—but not entirely. Passion fruit, squash, avocados—simple harvests, still enough to count. Down the same hairpin bends, with network signals returning like a forgotten rhythm. Messages poured in. But the real connection had already happened.

Togetherness. Disconnection. A checklist of tiny moments ticked not just with sights, but with shared silences and loud, ordinary joy. The kind of holiday that doesn’t need fixing. Just remembering.