How it all started
“The very reason I write is so that I might not sleepwalk through my entire life” Zadie Smith wrote. At 18, I had just finished reading Zadie’s first book, White teeth and was blown away by her style of approaching savvy humour and snappy dialogues. I had been an avid reader since 4 but Zadie really touched me and gave me the final push to to actually start writing.
Seven years have passed and I find myself revisiting this piece from time to time to cherish the good old blogger.com days and to see how far I’ve come. It’s also my easy & free time-travel ticket to the Himalayas…..a place where my heart rests.
The Decathlon showroom near my home is my happy place. Trekkers, cyclists, joggers and sports enthusiasts throng the outlet. Today the store is unusually busy; maybe it’s the summer holiday rush. I stuff my new hiking shoes, poles, gloves and windcheaters into one big orange backpack. I get out of the store with a big smile only to realise that I had forgotten to pick up the cool travel pins that I had seen at the entrance. I rush back in and add six multi- coloured pins to my cart. After scribbling my initials on them, I pin them all to my bulging rucksack.
It was an impromptu decision that I chose a 15,000-ft. pass located in the lap of the mighty Himalayas for my first Asian hiking experience. The trip-reminder emails and a few internet searches about the difficulty level, made me realise how unprepared I was. Frenzied calls to Sir Ranjit Singh, the only professional trekker in my circle, followed. The very next day, we decided to meet at sunrise and practise some fitness techniques that might ease my huffing and puffing.
Sir Ranjit, my former Geometry professor, would narrate stories justifying his shift of interests from being a maths teacher to a K2 aspirer. His experiences with a fiery-eyed leopard, love for rice beer and atheist ideologies were all I heard about. Though I disagreed and argued with him on certain subjects, his enthusiastic and persuasive way of narration made me listen to him more. The small hill that he would climb in ten minutes took almost an hour for me. A bit of dragging and a few motivational lines led to a splendid view of the city.
Then, suddenly, the D-day is here. I am super excited but also really nervous. Although I had been to India before, this was to be my first solo trip. I would be spending the next eight weeks in the hills with complete strangers. God, I couldn’t imagine being up there for so long without internet connectivity!
Continuing with my tradition of never reaching places on time, I am the last of the whole lot to board the train from Mumbai - Bandra terminus. To my surprise, we start getting along really well. It feels like a group of people belonging to the same tribe. Travel, psychology, and political discussions roll over one after the other with ease. Diverse opinions; unifying interests.
Our base camp is in Rumsu, a small village bordering the Northern states of Himachal Pradesh and Kashmir. And this quaint town is my very first introduction to the Himalayas. Rumsu is small and sparsely populated, yet one could find a million things to do there. I try my hand at picking strawberries–mind you, they were orange, not red, and were the best I have had to date.
While returning from the local market, I lose my way back to the camp. It is pitch dark and there is nobody around. Before I could ring somebody for help, a brown Labrador comes from nowhere and directs me back to my base. This little guy is my first friend in Rumsu. I later deemed it fit to name him Shadow as he followed me wherever I went.
Although most of the locals are not very proficient in English, they are not short of courteousness or civility. Their day-to-day activities are closely connected to nature and the manner in which they revere Mother Earth is something we all must imbibe.
No book or traveller would be able to describe the Himalayan experience fairly. One would fall short of adjectives. To me, it appeared like a great Saint meditating in peace; detached, yet one with the cosmos. It was huge but not intimidating, powerful yet without ego. Later, I would realise that during and after the trek, there had been an unmindful change in my attitude towards people and everyday life. My frivolous miseries had hardly mattered in front of the herculean ranges. Now, I had to be punctual if I was to stay with the group. Interacting and conversing with strangers and foreigners had become easier.
The climb was always going to be a test of one's determination and patience, a lesson to balance our emotions effectively. I left home with no objectives, but I was to return with more than 50 must-visit places in my travel list and loads of self-confidence.
Covering Chika, Balu ka Ghera, Shia Ghoru and other smaller places on the way, we move towards our target: the awe-inspiring Humta. Finding a way through the 6ft deep snow is difficult, but the team spirit keeps us motivated. We slide, bruise our knees and relentlessly climb back again. It is the self- learning and experimenting that works.
As I make my way through a long, slippery ice patch, I can see Humta clearly. It is only a few metres away. The final climb I say to myself, and I muster my leftover strength. Just then, a flock of sheep heading in the opposite direction attract my attention.
A fat-tailed female member of the flock slips and rolls over to my side. Shadow, who is intimidated by this furry female, starts barking at her. She struggles to look through all the hair covering her face but eventually starts running back towards her family…..much to Shadow’s relief. As I am amazed by this little tiff and catch Shadow looking at me longingly, I am diverted, yet again, by a sparkling ray of light flashing from nowhere.
I turn back only to witness the most magical thing ever. Oh, it’s other-worldly but what is it? It appears from nowhere and gradually encompasses the peak in a bubble. “It is a spherical rainbow!” I hear my tour guide shriek with amusement.
“As I am amazed by this little tiff and catch Shadow looking at me longingly, I am diverted, yet again, by a sparkling ray of light flashing from nowhere. I turn back only to witness the most magical thing ever…..”
As we keep walking forward, it feels as if I am stepping into one big colourful bubble. Normally, I would have clicked several photographs by now, but I keep staring at it in disbelief! I pinch myself just to make sure that I am not daydreaming. THIS is my utopia! I am both ecstatic and humbled to have witnessed something this exceptional but don’t realise that this is just one of the many surprises to come.
After sunrise, we start descending and head towards the world-famous Spiti valley. It is undoubtedly the ‘paradise on earth’. Handsome horses walk around royally like celestial beings. The gurgling brooks, blooming lilies and silent rocks make a perfect canvas for the likes of Monet. Shadow seems to love this place. He seems a bit tired after two weeks of walks and rests his head on my lap as we watch the sunset together.
The early morning view of the milky way makes us stay up all night, even though we are all extremely exhausted. The sun, moon and stars feel so close that they make me want to believe in the stories where the prince would go moon-hunting for his princess!
The Chandrataal lake is the final spot in our itinerary. Reflections on the crystal-clear water surface seem to emphasise the importance of introspection. I sit there for a while enjoying the symphony of migratory birds. The colourful prayer flags swing along with the breeze creating a soothing disturbance over the mild ripples underneath. I could stay here all my life and surely, the mountains would have new lessons to teach me every single day.
*The piece was originally titled “With love, to the Himalayas” and was published by Enthusiastic Press (London) in their journal titled “Unheard of” in February 2021.