Sravanthi Challapalli writes a personal essay on a trip to the Rann of Kutch capturing its beauty in words.
So this was the Great Rann of Kutch. We parked the car and moved with the rest of the walking tourists (some were taking camels) to the other side of the road, from where we began our approach to the salt marsh. At first, it was just moist sand. A few minutes after it turned into an indeterminate – no, dirty cookies-and-cream – and then, as we made our way forward, went on to become a stark, coruscant white somehow untouched by the dirt hundreds of holidaying bipeds like us brought in during the season.