Khushi Pahuja

I was fortunate to have teachers and family who raised me on one simple idea — never discriminate against another.

Born and raised in a North Indian metropolitan city, I have been visiting the mountains since childhood. I don't remember how that felt back then. What I do remember is scolding anyone and everyone who threw garbage on the road. As a child, it made me furious. It felt like the land was being hurt, though I didn't yet have the vocabulary to articulate why.

The professional side

I grew into a passionate person who wanted to earn a lot of money. Life surprised me, and I started working with communities on issues of education, caste, gender, sexuality, migration, and human trafficking. The work taught me that the chase for money is at the root of most of what's broken on this planet.

I spent years with civil society organisations, travelling and working with women, LGBTQIA+ persons, and adolescents across states, from Ladakh and Manipur to Gujarat and Kerala. Gratitude for my own teachers eventually led me to become one myself. I taught Gender Studies at Dr. B.R. Ambedkar University, Delhi.

Escape, and then honesty

My life shifted paths so rapidly that exhaustion outran passion. I needed to escape, so I went to the mountains because I didn't know where else to go. What met me there was quiet: clean air, moist breeze, clear skies, time to walk and paint, water that never stopped moving. Something in me shifted too. I got honest with myself and started questioning inwards.

What began as an escape turned into love for travel. The more I travelled in Himachal Pradesh, the more it hurt to watch how visitors treated this land and its people. It made me furious again.

I'd ask myself: How could someone do this? Doesn't it hurt to throw plastic into a forest? Can't you hear that your music is drowning out the birds?

At first, I was angry at the locals too. For not stopping it, for chasing money without seeming to notice what it was doing to their own children. However, the more I spoke with them, the more I understood: theirs is a harder tussle, between back-breaking labour, survival and aspiration, especially for the women.

My love for the mountains and my exhaustion with the city eventually pushed me toward the decision to move to Himachal Pradesh. Though as a social worker and a professor, I was not convinced to bypass what mountain life demands of the people who call it home.

The promise

So I promised myself something: I will open a library and a community space where the women, children, and LGBTQIA+ people of my neighbourhood can simply be.

I will help preserve the intelligence of Himalayan ecosystems and build spaces to share it. Ironically, it is through sharing that one can preserve wealth.

I left my job in 2025 and started travelling again, carrying a different kind of hope, and a different kind of hopelessness. This time, I intended to learn more about the place and its people. However, I ended up learning more about myself.

Somewhere in this search, ElSi Experiences started — first as a hesitation, then as a child of mine. For me, ElSi Experiences is not a fixed idea.

It is fluid. It moves with time, space, and the people who walk with us.

It embodies what it was born from — the need to change. Those willing to acknowledge and accept the discomfort of change will find their way to ElSi Experiences.

— Khushi