In Rishikesh in January, fogs are so thick that they create the illusion of unreality. Early in the morning you feel like a hedgehog from the cartoon: bridges, human figures, cows, dogs and temples appear on the way out of nowhere and again disappear into nowhere.
Rising from behind the mountains, the sun slowly reveals the picture of what is happening, and, closer to lunch, the fog over the Ganges dissipates. For a while, the local landscapes of Ram Jhula vibrate faintly with all the colors of the rainbow, but it’s not for long.
At sunset, the haze again envelops the space and again find yourself in a magical cloud that removes all unnecessary from the field of view and rare portions of consciousness supplies bridges, human figures, cows, dogs and temples.