I have only ever drawn mountain peaks as a child in art
classes, with crayon peaks and the Sun shining between them, like every other
child I know.
The fact of actually witnessing these stunning peaks rise above
the clouds and span the entire length of the horizon is truly amazing. Nepal is
truly amazing, as I discovered trekking up north after Pokhara to Mustang via
the Annapoorna ranges.
( Mt Everest and surrounding peaks)
As our aircraft, an older but reliably stable version of the
Twin Otter glided and soared through the mountains, I found my senses picking
up a cackling sense of excitement. The place is magical to see, as the snow
capped peaks invited me to surrender my eyes. Surrender them to someone who
hasn't yet seen them.
The mountains vanished now, appearing now between soft
cotton clouds that rose above, themselves as tall as the peaks. The experience
of witnessing this panoramic view has etched itself into my memory and now, I
just close my eyes and I can see them right before me. Isn’t this an amazing gift to give oneself?
( Devi’s Falls)
I couldn’t help but think that the experience had another
aspect to it, that of the philosophical and spiritual. Do we in the mountains
automatically think of higher ideals and lofty ideas, I wondered, with so many
saints and sadhus making it their erstwhile home. It is easy to see that contemplation
is easy up there because there is only silence interrupted by mountain winds,
the chatter of sparrows and the occasional jeep passing by.
( Pokhara Lake)
Serenity is not just a concept as it is in the cities we
live in, it is in the very ground we walk on, everywhere we see and inhaling it
deeply relaxes and rejuvenates us. I found my pupils dilating to take in the
360 degree view and feeling this inexplicable excitement around my solar
plexus, as if it were charged with the energy to trek up to the peak. With
every step I took, I was looking forward to whatever was calling out to me. If
this is what a purposeful stride is, then there are no limits to how many can
be taken. At 22 thousand feet, the mountains are only just beginning their
ascent.
( River Gandaki)
The local sherpas and traders are very helpful because they
know that the mountains are not home to everybody and acclimatizing to the
freezing wind and the general expanse that nature suddenly reveals can shake
things up a little bit for people who are not used to it. They are beautiful
people full of a generous spirit, offering hot milky chai as we greet them and
making us comfortable in their inns with blankets. There was only one main street
in Jomsom and the landing strip for aircraft was behind this street. Shops have
a small entrance and the roof almost touches your head as you walk in. They
sell a lot of liquor to keep people warm, besides yak butter and clothing made
of blue horned sheep skin.
I read in the eco museum at Mustang that in March every year, the locals host a ten day Yak Blood Drinking Ceremony. It is believed that yak blood is rejuvenating for one’s health since it grazes on medicinal herbs in the Himalayan mountains. A glass of yak blood would cost 100 rupees.
(Rocky hill slopes along the Gandaki River valley)
The locals speak affectionately with visitors, answering my
questions with swerves of humor, like the canny wind that blows from high
around the mountain snow. Their dialect
is full of references to stories of people who have visited before including
the famous ones who have made it Mount Everest. My own view of Mt Everest was
through the aircraft as it went around all the peaks for a good 45 minutes. It
was needless to say, exhilarating.
( Nepali Women carry anything from cabbages to bricks in their baskets)
The locals also retain a glorious naïveté in spite of all
the visitors that tourism brings to their doorstep, one that I could only
compare with that of the aboriginal people of Australia. Nothing about their
own practices and customs change even though they play host to so many people
from so many countries. It seems like it is meant to be a one way exchange and
we visitors are in many ways the better for it, indeed.
Sherpa families who know the landscape like the back of
their hand take us through all the must see places, riding motorbikes up the
mountains over rocks and stones comfortably and confidently. I had to hug my rider
all the way up to the place from where we could see the valley below, so as to not fall down since the terrain is so rocky. Sherpa
babies with their snubbed noses and fish-like eyes are so cute here and I
think about how lucky they are, to grow up with ponies as
friends, yaks as mountain-trekking companions and horses to take them wherever they may
roam.
Coming home was the tough part and a part of me was sad as I
re-entered the city. But the mountains will forever stay with me, and I can
hear the wind blowing between the peaks as I sleep.
( Mt Gauri Shankar)
