We continued to the small, rock-built ashram that houses Tapovan&rsquos lone hermit&mdash Mouni Baba, the quiet one, because he took a decade-long vow of silence. He has lived alone in this remote abode for 14 years. He is proof of willpower, enduring through the winters at such an altitude. Luckily, Mouni Baba has opened up to the world. He was happy to receive us, and we found him surprisingly young, witty, and urbane. His voice was barely audible, but the glint in his eye exuded warmth. When Mallika told him that she had grown up in Bombay but now lived in Delhi, he joked about the idiocy of such a manoeuvre. He was happy to hear an unending flow of town gossip from Rakesh. The time at Tapovan was golden. We wandered the gentle meadow, took in the spectacular peaks from every angle, and noshed down tasty dal served by the Baba.