After the heat and dust of Delhi, the woods high up in the Himalayas seem lovelier, darker and deeper. Wildflowers pop their heads from amidst grassy knolls. A cool breeze picks up, and I watch an oak leaf lazily fall to the ground. This summer idyll is interrupted by a distant voice shouting hello. "Hello…" the hills echo back. The hellos go back and forth for a while, and I clamber down the hillside to see what's happening. A largish group of people is standing on the roadside, waving their arms about and shouting hello. "This is, what we call