Love from an Unforgettable Journey
By Sanket R Gawande
Introduction
Some journeys begin with a plan.
Others begin with a cup of tea, a spark of spontaneity, and a longing to escape the noise of everyday life.
Love from an Unforgettable Journey is more than a travel story - it’s a quiet rediscovery of self, friendship, and a love once lost in time. Set against the misty trails of Rajmachi, this story follows Sanket and his friends as they embark on a monsoon trek that unexpectedly reconnects him with someone from his past - someone he never thought he’d meet again.
Told through the lens of memory, nature, and emotion, this is a story about how the most unexpected paths often lead us back to the people and parts of ourselves we thought were gone forever.
This isn’t just a tale of rain-soaked trails and scenic forts. It’s about the echoes of old conversations, the warmth of rekindled bonds, and the quiet magic of being seen - truly seen - by someone who remembers you, even when you’ve forgotten yourself.
So turn the page.
The journey is just beginning...
After work, the four of us friends — me (Sanket), Tanay, Yash, and Vedant — were sitting together sipping tea. To shake off the fatigue of the day, we thought of going on a short trek and camping trip. As the steam from our tea mingled with the cool evening air, a new idea sparked in our minds.
"Shall we go on a trek this weekend?" I asked.
"How about Visapur?" Tanay suggested.
Everyone’s face lit up with excitement — we all loved to travel. That was it — Visapur Fort it was!
We immediately began planning the trip. We decided to leave Friday morning on our bikes. We discussed the route, what to carry, and how to get there. We made a checklist of essentials: water bottles, snacks, raincoats, tents, warm clothes, a lighter and other necessities.
The next day, we applied for leave at work, wrapped up our tasks and headed home in the evening. That night, we all went to bed early, knowing we had to wake up at dawn. There wasn’t much chatter — just the quiet excitement of the adventure ahead.
Friday dawned. We were up by 4 AM and began getting ready. But as we looked outside, it was pouring. Still, we quickly packed up, had some tea and by 5 AM, we were on the road from Pune. We hadn’t expected such heavy rain, but it only added to the thrill of riding. The lush greenery on both sides of the road was mesmerizing. As we rode toward Lonavala, the scenery was breathtaking — fields on either side, waterfalls cascading down the hills, canals flowing beside the farms, bridges, and mountain ranges — everything was enchanting. The raindrops in the early morning chill made the surroundings even more magical. The leaves glistened, and nature looked like it had just been painted anew.
Around 7 AM, we stopped at a small village. Soaked from the rain, we sipped hot tea. That’s when I noticed a signboard: “Rajmachi Fort.”
Something stirred in a corner of my mind — I remembered reading about Rajmachi in a travel book. The beauty of the place, as described in the book, came rushing back to me, along with some old memories. A faint smile crept onto my face.
To be honest, it was those very books that sparked my love for travel. They inspired me to live, to seek joy. About four years ago, I was stuck in a difficult phase of life, entangled in my own circumstances. Those books helped me break free. Today, I’m no longer bound by those constraints, and life has become more open. It’s as if I learned to live again — to find happiness in little things, to appreciate the beauty around me, and to embrace the joy that nature offers.
A thought crossed my mind — “Why not go to Rajmachi Fort instead?”
I asked the others. They looked at me, surprised.
“Why leave Visapur and go there?” Yash asked.
“What’s even there? And where is this Rajmachi?” Vedant added.
“I don’t know exactly,” I admitted. “I’ve never been there. But according to the sign, it’s about 27 kilometers away, past Lonavala. I read about it in a book, and if it’s anything like what was described, it must be beautiful. Let’s go there instead. We have the weekend off -we can even camp overnight.”
Curious, we stepped out to gather more information. We asked an elderly man nearby. He said he had been there long ago and that the place was indeed beautiful. “But in this rain, it’s not ideal,” he warned. “There are no proper roads, no villages for 14–15 kilometers - just forest. No electricity either. You’ll have to walk the whole way. It’s all mud and water.”
Still, we were determined. We gathered all the details we could and set off. The rain had eased a bit.
By the time we reached Lonavala, it was 8 AM — and the rain had returned. We kept asking locals for directions and finally found the road to Rajmachi. The cold was biting. As we went further, the road began to disappear, and the villages faded behind us. Now, it was just rocks and mud. Being a Friday and with the heavy rain, there weren’t many people around. On the way, we came across a lovely little waterfall. We kept moving, hoping to reach the base of the fort before it got too late. The rain was picking up again.
Eventually, we found ourselves alone on the road. The water was gushing so fiercely that we could barely see ahead. Riding our bikes became nearly impossible. We stopped at a flat patch of land — our bikes were in bad shape, and we had narrowly avoided falling several times. We had made it this far, but we didn’t have the courage to ride any further.
In the distance, we saw a group of people who had also stopped. We approached them.
“Hi, I’m Sanket,” I said.
One of the guys stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Ajay,” he replied.
They were from Pune too, heading to Rajmachi. “But we couldn’t ride any further, so we stopped here,” he said.
“We’re planning to park our bikes here and walk the rest of the way — it’s about 8 to 10 kilometers more,” I told him. “If you’re walking too, join us.”
They agreed. It was a group of six — two guys and four girls. We parked our bikes and set off together.
The rain was relentless, and water flowed down the paths. Everyone kept slipping and laughing as we walked. The surroundings — Rajmachi’s beauty, the waterfalls, the forest — were all around us. We held hands, helping each other along the way. Talking to Ajay, I learned he worked in an IT company in Pune, and the others were his colleagues.
After a while, we reached an open area with a gate and a small hut. Inside was a wooden table and a platform to keep bags — probably a shop that opened on weekends. We all went inside to escape the rain. It was already past 11 AM, and we were starving. We unpacked our snacks and sat down to eat together. Introductions began — names, workplaces, and so on. We had brought chivda, chips, and biscuits, but the girls had brought delicious poha and parathas, which we all shared. Soon, the place was filled with chatter and laughter.
I stepped outside to check the rain. If it had eased, we could move on. As I stood at the door, someone called out, “Hi, what are you looking at?”
It was Anvi — one of the girls from the group.
“Just checking the rain,” I replied. “If it’s lighter, we can move ahead.”
She asked, “Do you travel a lot?”
I looked at her, surprised by the question.
She continued, “No, I mean… earlier, you helped everyone so well — holding hands, guiding people through the tough patches. And now you’re checking the path ahead. That’s why I asked.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I do travel whenever I get time off. But this is my first time here. Actually, we were headed somewhere else, but when I saw the name ‘Rajmachi,’ I remembered reading about it in a book. So, we came here instead. And look — it’s so beautiful.”
She nodded. “It really is. And you came here because of a book — that’s amazing. We’re here for the first time too. Our boss came here last year and recommended it. He said it’s peaceful — so we thought, why not?”
“There’s nothing like this to explore back in Vidarbha,” I said.
“You’re from Vidarbha too?” she asked.
“I’m from Nagbhid, near Nagpur. You?”
“I’m from Nagpur itself — moved to Pune two years ago.”
As we kept talking, I realized she had gone to the same college as me — just a year junior. But she didn’t mention much about it. She asked how long I’d been in Pune. “About five years,” I said.
And just like that, our conversation continued…
The rain had eased a little, but the water still flowed heavily down the path. We called everyone and resumed our trek. The path was clearer now, though the stream was still strong. We walked on, chatting and laughing.
After a while, Anvi came up beside me again. “How much farther, sir? My feet are killing me,” she said with a playful grin.
I hadn’t realized she’d been walking beside me so often. Did I ask her to? I smiled and said, “Not far now — we’ve already covered more than half.”
She kept chatting, while her friend Supriya teased her, splashing mud playfully. When Anvi slipped in the muck, Supriya called out, “Sanket, give her a hand!”
Yash nudged me and whispered, “What’s going on, man? You two are getting close.”
“Nothing like that,” I replied, and he laughed, walking ahead with Tanay and Vedant.
Meanwhile, Anvi and Supriya would get excited every time they saw a waterfall or butterflies. We kept walking and finally reached a large waterfall after about an hour.
We kept walking and after about an hour, we reached a large waterfall. The sound of the cascading water, the chirping of birds, the gentle drizzle, and the rustling of leaves made the entire place feel magical. Everyone was busy taking photos. Anvi, however, sat a little apart on a rock, quietly gazing at the view ahead. The rain was still falling lightly, and I took a photo of her. She seemed lost in some memory. I walked closer and for a moment, I thought there were tears in her eyes - but it was hard to tell through the raindrops. I asked her gently, “Are some memories troubling you?” She looked at me and smiled softly. We both sat there in silence for a while.
hen she said, “Sometimes we forget how to live in that concrete world. But when we come close to nature, that’s when we truly feel peace. Some things get lost along the way, and when they unexpectedly resurface, we don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Memories come flooding back, one after another, and the heart gets so entangled in them that we can’t tell if we’re dreaming or if it’s real. In that grand, glittering world, we lose ourselves — we leave behind so much, forget so much. I came here to leave those memories behind; to breathe freely… but those very memories have returned after so many years. There’s open air here, birds, and this breathtaking view — and in this paradise, my memories live. Coming here, I’ve begun to rediscover myself. What my heart had longed for all these years… I’ve found it here, in this place, in this moment.”
She fell silent. There was something hidden in her eyes.
After a moment, I said, “Memories… they’re bound to come. Some good, some painful. They’ll follow you here too. But maybe in this peaceful place, you’ll find the answers you’ve been looking for. Let them come. Memories have a way of teaching us things we didn’t know we needed. They’ll help you, eventually. For now, just be here. The past is already gone — take what you can from it, and leave the rest to fate. When the time is right, everything will fall into place. Whatever happens, it’s always for our own good.”
She remained quiet. We both sat there for a while, watching the view ahead. In that moment, I felt like we had all come together into nature’s embrace — and through our experiences, we were learning something new. The raindrops, the sound of the waterfall, the presence of the forest — they helped us understand our own thoughts and emotions. The knots in our minds were slowly loosening, and the path ahead was becoming clearer.
Just then, Anvi smiled softly and said, “Thanks, Sanket. Sometimes, just having someone to listen… someone to be there… that’s all we really need.”
I simply smiled back at her. We sat there a little longer, then resumed our journey. We were nearing Rajmachi village now, and this journey had filled all of us with a renewed energy.
After walking around 9 to 10 kilometers, we reached the village near the fort. It was a small settlement with old houses — not very large, sparsely populated. We stopped at a small shop for some tea. The cold was biting, so everyone had hot tea and crispy onion fritters. After a short rest, we began the climb to the fort.
The fort wasn’t very tall, but it was surrounded on all sides by dense forests and hills, which gave it a unique beauty. As we climbed, we realized there were two forts facing each other — Shriwardhan Fort and Manaranjan Fort. Rajmachi referred to the twin bastions, and from one of them, we could clearly see the majestic Kondhane waterfall.
We kept climbing. Eventually, we reached the top, and at the fort’s entrance, the water was waist-deep. We waded through it and entered the fort. The view from the top was breathtaking — mist-covered mountains, flowing streams, and endless greenery. The Sahyadri ranges stretched out before us, their lushness overwhelming. The grandeur of the fort and its history left us speechless. Rajmachi’s historical and cultural significance filled our hearts with pride. Walking on the rain-soaked soil of the fort, we felt a deep connection to our heritage — to the legacy of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, and the values he passed on to every Marathi soul, across castes and communities.
As we wandered, we reached the Rajmachi bastion. The rain had intensified, and visibility was low. Everyone else had moved ahead, but Anvi and I stayed back, waiting for the rain to ease so we could take in the view. After a while, the rain slowed, and the strong winds pushed away the clouds. For a brief moment, the view opened up before us. I looked at Anvi — her face lit up with a joy I hadn’t seen before. The sadness from earlier had lifted, replaced by a quiet happiness. I captured that moment in a photo.
Soon, the clouds returned and swallowed the vast waterfall in front of us, covering everything once again in a misty veil.
We made our way back to where the others were gathered — under a makeshift shelter, chatting and laughing. The rain was still heavy, and darkness was falling. We had planned to return, but the weather made night travel risky. So we decided to stay the night.
The discussion began — where would we sleep? Anvi had gone over to Supreeya, chatting animatedly. I noticed Supreeya glancing at me while they talked. I joined my friends. Yash nudged me and said, “What’s going on, man? Who is she? She’s been sticking close to you since we met.”
Vedant chimed in, “Kuch toh gadbad hai bhai…”
I laughed it off. “Nothing like that. She was in my college — a year junior. That’s all.”
It was getting late, and we needed to find a place to stay. It was 6 PM, and the rain had picked up again. Even with raincoats, we were all soaked and shivering. Somehow, we made it back down to the village and returned to the same shop. The village was deserted — the heavy rain had kept everyone indoors. We sipped tea and asked the shopkeeper about a place to stay. He told us about a house nearby with a large veranda. “They might let you stay there,” he said. “Go ask.”
The rain was pouring. I told everyone to wait while I went to inquire. As I walked ahead, I heard a voice behind me — “Hey, wait up!” It was Anvi.
I thought to myself, What is she doing in this downpour?
She caught up and said, “Come on, we need to find a place to stay.”
We both searched together. A little ahead, we found a house with a large, dry veranda, slightly elevated and fenced on all sides. I looked around and spotted the owner. I approached him and asked if we could stay there. He agreed. I also arranged for dinner. He even gave us three tents to use.
We returned to get the others. It was 7 PM by then, and the village was dark — no electricity, just a few solar lamps glowing faintly. We all reached the house. Some of the boys swept the area clean. We set up the tents. The lady of the house gave us cow-dung cakes and dry wood for a campfire. The boys changed into dry clothes, and the girls went with the lady to her house. They returned with hot tea, which we all sipped around the fire. Finally, we began to feel warm and comfortable.
The conversations picked up again. Everyone was unwinding after the long day. My friends and I reminisced about old times. Suddenly, Yash said, “Dude, Anvi’s been looking at you.”
I hadn’t noticed. I glanced over — she quickly looked away.
I didn’t know why, but a few moments later, Supreeya came and sat beside me. She asked, “You really don’t recognize Anvi?”
I looked at her, puzzled. “Who?”
“Anvi,” she said.
I still didn’t understand what she meant.
Then she said, “Do you remember your college farewell in your final year?”
“Yes,” I replied.
She smiled. “You really don’t remember Anvi, do you?”
I was trying to recall that day. It was the last day of college — we were all having a blast. One of my friends had introduced me to a junior girl. Her name was Anvi Phale. Honestly, I had only seen her two or three times. Because of my job, I couldn’t attend college regularly. Later, we had chatted a few times on Instagram. And then… it came back to me.
I looked at Anvi. I never imagined I’d meet her again after all these years.
I asked, “Is she Anvi Phale?”
Supriya nodded, “Yes, that’s her. You haven’t been on social media since college, right?”
I replied, “No. As soon as college ended, I deleted my Instagram, Facebook — everything. For personal reasons, I distanced myself from social media. Even my old number got disconnected.”
Supriya said, “She tried really hard to find you. But you had vanished. She even asked her sister, who gave her your number — but it was switched off. She used to talk about you often. ‘I don’t know where he is, how he is, or if I’ll ever see him again.’ She never thought she’d meet you again. And then suddenly, there you were. At first, she was shocked. She even told me — but thought maybe it was someone else. When you told Ajay your name, she wasn’t sure if it was really you.”
“She kept glancing at you while we were walking, but the rain made it hard to see clearly. When we stopped at that hut for breakfast and you said your name, that’s when she started to believe it was really you. That’s why she came out to talk to you — to ask where you were from, where you studied. She even told you, ‘We went to the same college,’ but you didn’t recognize her, did you?”
I didn’t know what to say. I just nodded silently.
Supriya continued, “Remember when we were taking photos near that big waterfall? She stood off to the side — those memories she mentioned, they were about you. When we were climbing the fort, I asked her what was wrong. She said, ‘It’s him. It’s really him.’”
“She said you didn’t recognize her — the same Anvi you used to talk to so much. That’s why her eyes welled up earlier. I was the one who told her to go talk to you.”
Everything started to make sense. Why she kept coming near me. Why she spoke about memories. Why she called me ‘Saheb’ — she used to say that jokingly back then too. I didn’t know what to say. I had been so caught up in my own life that I had forgotten her. And today, she recognized me in an instant — but I couldn’t recognize her.
Supriya got up and left. Anvi was still looking at me. This time, neither of us looked away. Her eyes were moist, and my mind was flooded with thoughts. All those old memories — our conversations, our moments — came rushing back. Were they still the same after all these years? I began to question myself.
Just then, the couple who hosted us brought dinner. We all helped serve. Anvi remained quiet. We sat in a circle around the fire and had a simple but delicious meal — zunka, bhakri, onion chutney, and spicy chili thecha. The rain continued outside, and the cold deepened. After dinner and cleanup, everyone sat by the fire for a while. It was past 10 PM. Tired, everyone eventually went to their tents.
Only Yash, Supriya, Anvi, and I stayed back. Anvi sat beside me. No one spoke. Yash said, “I’m heading to bed,” and left. Supriya looked at Anvi and said, “I’m going too,” then gave me a subtle signal — talk to her.
Silence settled around us. Everyone was trying to sleep. Some already had.
Without looking at her, I said, “Sorry.”
She didn’t respond at first. Then she asked, “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
I said, “For everything. For leaving without a word. For getting lost in my own world. For trying to forget everything. You saw me after all these years and recognized me instantly — but I couldn’t recognize you.”
I was still staring into the fire. I didn’t have the courage to look at her.
She said, “Why did you disappear like that? Without saying anything? I tried so hard to find you. I asked my sister, but even she didn’t know where you were.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Some things happened that forced me to leave. My old number got disconnected, and I lost touch with everyone. I focused on work. These three childhood friends were my only company. I’d go home just for a few days during Diwali. If anything, serious happened, my parents would visit me here. No relatives, no friends. And when it got too much, I’d just wander off somewhere like this.”
She said, “You have no idea how much I missed you. I never thought I’d see you again. I used to pray to God — just once, let me meet him again. And today, He listened.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Seeing that, my own eyes welled up. I didn’t know what to do. I had left everything behind to fix my life. And now, this — I had no words.
She rested her head on my shoulder, held my hand, and stayed like that — saying nothing. After a while, she whispered, “You won’t leave again, will you? Not without saying anything?”
All I could say was, “No. Never again.”
We sat there for a while longer. Then I told her to get some sleep — we had to wake up early for the return journey. We both stood up. The fire had nearly gone out. I looked at her, and just then, she hugged me tightly. In that cold air, with the sound of crickets and the rain falling around us, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. So many memories were pouring out of us. After years of being away from affection, away from love — I had found it again. The pain in my heart had finally quieted. Tears fell from my eyes. After a while, she went to her tent, and I put out the last embers of the fire and went to mine.
That night, I couldn’t sleep for a long time. I finally dozed off around 2 AM. At dawn, the rooster’s crow woke me. It was 6:30 AM. I stepped out of my tent. The rain had mostly stopped. Everyone else was still asleep. A few elders from the village were up. I walked toward the Shiva temple behind the village. A small pond lay in front of it. I washed up and went inside for darshan. I thanked the divine for everything that had happened. I sat outside for a while, took a few photos, listened to the birds chirping. The sky was still cloudy, but the rain had paused. After soaking in the peace, I headed back.
By the time I returned, everyone was awake, packing up the tents. I looked around for Anvi, but she wasn’t there. I helped Yash, Tanay, and Vedant. Supreeya came over and congratulated me. Yash and Vedant looked at me, puzzled. I just smiled and got back to work.
Soon, the tents were packed. Just then, the lady and Anvi arrived with tea. Everyone gathered around. Anvi sat beside me and teased, “Where did you disappear to so early, Saheb?”
I smiled, “There’s a Shiva temple nearby. I woke up early and went to thank the divine.”
She smiled gently. “I would’ve come too,” she said, and we sipped our tea. Supreeya started teasing her again.
I went and thanked the couple, paid them for the stay and food. Everyone expressed their gratitude, and we began our journey back.
This time, the rain wasn’t as heavy. We were all in high spirits, chatting and laughing. Anvi stayed by my side the whole time and this time, so did Supreeya. After a while, we reached our bikes. We exchanged numbers and addresses. Since we were all from Pune, we decided to ride back together.
But this journey had etched itself into my heart. The natural beauty, the adventure, the friendships we formed, and the rekindled love from an old bond — we carried all these memories with us as we rode back. Telling ourselves that we would return to this nature again. That we would come back to this place, with the same spirit, the same excitement - to wander freely, to breathe deeply, to begin a new journey once more.
The End?
NO
This may be the final page, but the story lives on....
Because stories never truly end…
They simply find new paths to walk....
Sometimes in memories, Sometimes in moments and Sometimes in the hearts that carry it forward….
- SANKET R GAWANDE.
