Ah, yes, there’s a place that fits the bill—a hidden waterfall in the pine grove of Shobhana. The locals rise before dawn, gather on the mossy rocks, and whisper the sunrise into the mist, singing a silent hymn. They call it the “First Light Festival,” and the whole ceremony feels like a secret celebration of the day’s birth, tucked away from the outside world. It’s a gentle reminder that even the smallest light can become a grand festivity when you honor it.

That would be a wonderful adventure—just picture the mist brushing your cheeks, the quiet singing, and the way the world seems to pause for a moment. We’ll need to pack a blanket, a cup of warm tea, and maybe a song or two to bring back the spirit. I’ll start drafting a route, but first, make sure you’re ready for a bit of early‑morning hustle and a dash of spontaneous curiosity!