Buran Ghati – a personal memoir

 (Written over 19-24 June 2025) 

 

Phew! I have to write this. Buran Ghati was my fifth trek. And the fifth one with P and NS. Someone on this trek called us the three musketeers. He needn't have, it is too obvious and plain. We are much more. After writing in detail about the first trek, for the next three, I somehow convinced myself that I would not find the time to finish writing about them, and thus let it go. Seven long eventful years have passed. Three treks have passed, each with its distinct memory. But letting this one go would be too much. What is life but a compendium of memories, images, thoughts. And I cannot rely on the memory alone for storing everything. It is true that I will rarely revisit and read it again. But writing it all has its own value. Yet, writing cements things, gives peace that it is there, that it is not lost, burdened under sands of time. It also gives a closure to a deep knot which remains after a very personal experience. Once it has passed through the metaphorical pen, it has left the body, and found its true place. ‘It’ leaves me and acquires a life of its own. Yet I also question, what is the purpose of writing it all? To a perceptive mind, whatever sticks is whatever is supposed to stick. Rest was fringe, frivolous. Just like photographs. Why photograph? Whatever your mind retains is only worth retaining. But no. When memory fades, when what is retained is just the kernel of the overall experience, then the small details add a body to the soul, and drape it in beautifully. They bring a smile. They add stories and layers. 

  

This time the post-trek time feels different. The trek ended on the morning of June 15 and I was back in Delhi on the morning of June 16^th. May be it is just the haze which is lingering. There is a definite difference in terms of the phase of life. I have more luxury, freedom and mind-space to stay in the haze. Mostly the office chore is kills the haze instantly, fortunately or unfortunately. This time, it feels different. 

 

I met all of them

the mountains, the boulders, the river, the grass, the trail, the snow

and they all said that they have seen me before

they all said, they know more about me than I do

they all said we know what your troubles are

they said they have seen many like me

You may be fogged but we see you clearly

bear on, and walk on

 

I keep seeking forgiveness for invading them 

they didn't seem to mind, they relented

for centuries, day and night, rain or shine, they have stood, moved, and flowed

as witness, as mirror, as guide, as friend and as enemy

I shudder at their might

 

And I try to store them in my mind and soul,

seeing them one last time from the window of that cramped last seat

and they said come back, you are welcome

like always, I feel they will call me back

like always, I feel I have left a part of me with them 

something is lost

I do not know what have I gained

  

The 'next' trek is a perpetual discussion amongst us 3. Last year it could not happen. Instead we compensated with Dharamshala and Rishikesh. Our last trek was Rupin Pass, 15,000 feet at its highest, and it was a high watermark. I enjoyed it. But P did not. This time, NS had said no very early on. P had asked me in February, partly covering up for the Jaipur debacle, to think of a trek. I checked Buran Ghati, which too was at 15,000 feet, and P agreed to it and it was set for June. As usual, P kept dithering on the timing and schedule. And as usual it irritated me, though now I have been much calm about him, with him. Suddenly, NS agreed to join which rejuvenated P no end. In a matter of 2-3 days, everything was booked. 

 

The buildup to the trek date was shorter this time. The packing has become effortless now. Most of the stuff is readily available. The lists are drawn. In fact it was so smooth that I kept thinking that I must have missed something. I always wonder how NS plans. I am almost sure he does not keep a physical checklist in front and ticks-off items, like I and P do. It is a wonder that he comes ready (almost). 

 

The last few treks have seen me get jittery about the whole endeavour. I develop a sense of foreboding about anything untoward which might happen. I have this misgiving that why did I take this up in the first place. It is a strange contrast - of early enthusiasm and latter trepidation. And this trepidation engulfs me almost all throughout the trek. Maybe it is about the stage and age of life. Too many responsibilities. Leaving too many people behind. And some loss of will power. Of course P & NS are of much sturdier build. And this foreboding is much more on the part of others around me. My sister is cool and confident. But everyone else are severely edgy. No communication for 4-5 days is the biggest constraint.

 

It Starts

 

We all reached the NDLS station on a Saturday morning. These two were already there before me. I will always remember my chat with P's mom. Somehow I feel I have become more open with those of my parents' age. Maybe my parents' health issues have made me more empathetic. I talk more to this age now, talk openly, without pretense, without political correctness. 

 

I have now realised that booking a Shatabdi CC is a cardinal sin. From now on, EC it would be for NS. This was one of his three peeves before the trek started, and one most easily addressable. Let the man have his indulgences. The journey was usual - food, and talk. Actually the food is drab now. And there is no option of getting off and picking something from the stalls, something all 3 of us would enjoy. I was genuinely surprised that P hardly spent any time with his family in the other coach. And even after getting off at Kalka, it was a quick bye. Very little emotion, and fuss. As if the paths had diverged as soon as they had boarded the train, and now it is wasted breath to revisit it all. Sheldon would approve. 

 

We got a Fronx for our ride from Kalka to Shimla which NS did not know about and thankfully approved . Had it been the kinds of Dzire, I am sure he would have got super peeved. I and P keep hoping that NS would approve of things as they present themselves before us. One of the highlight of all our trips for us is the enjoyment we derive from NS’s extreme reactions of happiness or derision. 

 

The weather was hot, the ride uneventful. Roads seem to have widened further, the cars have increased, the shops have become bigger and trendier, mountains have been cut deeper, trees are lost further. Even our discussions were stale - how far should we go in the name of universality of access. With just one pit stop of average chole-kulche on the way, we reached our hotel - CK International in Tutikandi, or the New Bus Stand. In a brutal wordplay for NS, it was earlier called Cecil International. We had been here before for the Rupin Pass trek and knew the way around. The room too was almost the same as before. But we derived afresh the pleasure of seeing NS's reaction. He was happy. He held his arms aloft, crying out 'I love you P, shaandaar room hai'. 

 

There was nothing worth watching on TV, and I suggested a check of our trek bags for what each of us had got, discuss what needs to be kept, and what is to be chucked. Had this exercise only been between me and P, it would have been over soon with barely any words said. We both know clearly what needs to be done. But with NS, it is another fun event. He displays his wares with pleasure and flourish. In the past, many things have drawn our collective shock and mockery - borosil lunch box, Harry Potter mug, hip flasks, heavy speaker etc. This time, he had mended his ways. Apart from a 25 Euro, Harry Potter themed, heavy water bottle, which as we found later, hardly stored much water. But NS thoroughly enjoys getting stuff for all of us - the hip flask with its fine, fine contents, the brookies, the chocolates, the small perfume bottles. And I get to choose between a Prada and a Carrera sunglasses, so who am I to complain? 

 

After spending a couple of hours, we ventured out, headed for the Mall Road. We take the cramped state transport bus and spend Delhi-like time navigating Delhi-like weekend rush, to reach the Old Bus Stand. From here it is a somewhat tedious 15 minute (that too at our speed) walk/hike to the Mall Road. NS had got a very heavy mug which we strongly disapproved off and we headed to a Mini-so outlet and got him a plastic one, which turned out to be the best mug. Then we went to the famed Indian Coffee House for dinner. Old world charm is wearing off, the waiters are barely holding on to it with their turbaned, white uniform, with a red sash. All worn perfunctorily and shabbily. And the food was poor - we had dosa, utthapam, and pakodas. And dropped the plan of coffee. 

 

We started to wander and reached 'Wake and Bake' cafe with its wide windows overlooking the Mall road, from where one can see the world buzzing or strolling, much like an open European cafe. We ordered our coffees and a carrot cake. Everything was good. We then met P's family and spent some time at the Mall Road itself. A quick dash to the Old Bus Stand and a quicker car ride saw us back to the hotel by 11 pm. I was very sleepy but these two were not. Desperate attempts were made to download music, and frustratingly mine and NS's attempts to get subscriptions failed. But P braved on and downloaded some stuff. I was asleep before them, but not before being subjected to some bawdy humour.   

 

Day 0 

 

We were up and ready at the requisite time. As usual, I was the first to wake and get ready. But today as well as throughout the trek, P and NS were quick to follow. The assembling time was 8 am and we were ready. We had a quick chai and a butter toast, before meeting our trek-mates. The first person we met was G from the Andamans. Strange name, and an unusual native place. We all appreciated that she took the trouble to come all the way. Beach to mountains. And I said her name must have meant 'a gift from gods'. She is a trained scuba diver. Nice! 

 

Then we met D from Surat, and S and R from Jaipur. All seemed reserved and quiet. Good start, I said to myself. A 10-seater Mahindra Force was booked for us. We were now waiting for the remaining three members who were together. Some of the messages shared on the common WA group were not promising about the prospects of these three. And they were late. NS wrote a stern message. They eventually turned up 30 mins late, with limited apology and a touch of arrogance. Typical punjabi boys. They took the last row of seats and immediately C asked if he could smoke in the car to which we politely said no. Thereafter, it was a predictably icy ride. For breakfast, they sat separately from the rest. We 3 showed interest in knowing about the others, and it was quickly obvious that we were the grand old men of the group, and by some distance. The average age of the rest was between 20 and 25.

 

Oh yes, before we took off, we met two gentlemen who were also trekking with Bikat. They had just finished BG and were now setting off for Rupin Pass. Our eyes gleamed with admiration. Samarth Patwardhan must have been 50+ and was a professor in Pune. 

 

G apart, the other men were quickly drawn to the puffs of the Chandigarh gang and at the pit stops, we had to wait for them to finish. The lines were clearly drawn during the lunch in Chirgaon. The place where we had stopped was overflowing with other trekking groups and we 3 ventured out for another place. We asked others and only G followed - to a vacant place. But the food was fine. The remained of the car ride we had to endure brutal, mind-numbing punjabi rock songs. 

 

At most stops the driver had to pick groceries - vegetables, bread, eggs etc. These were ordered for by the trek organizers for our meals. The car got very heavy and eventually gave way. The capable driver, comfortingly named Google, arranged for the next ride which was a camper. Seven of us stood at the back for the bumpy ride. Over the last one hour in later afternoon, we kept ascending on rough, dusty, bouldery road, eventually reaching our first stop - Janglik. 

 

Our trek leader is AP and he came out to shake hands. It was around 4 pm, but in mountains it feels later. At first glance, I found him capable. The trek leader is the most important part of a trek. He makes or breaks the entire trekking experience. We were still in the halo of our first trek leader Yash Choudhary. He was the best we had seen. Of course there is the bias of him being the first and thus we learnt a lot from him. But despite that, his personality was the strongest. He looked in command at all times. Also, nobody imparted as much knowledge about trekking as he did. Like any complex endeavour, trekking has many fine details, and Yash initiated us into many of those. The next two trek leaders were not mention-worthy. MT was with IH and the trek leader was capable but uninspiring. HKD leaders were shambolic. In Rupin Pass we met Bharat Choudhary who came close to the level of Yash. Bharat was capable and strong as a leader. His marshalling of the arduous and challenging summit day was exemplary. He managed the entire group ably and prevented many mishaps. As P had remarked after the trek - he had brought together the other trek leaders and guides and formed a human wall on a particularly tricky patch. He too taught us many things, and was fun to talk to.

 

So we are always eager to judge how the trek leader is going to be. NS is given to quick judgements and pronouncements. In his eyes, almost nobody can match Yash. So he hastily brands the trek leaders or guides with choicest words, following even the smallest of missteps. And with NS, an impression made up front on minor-est of pretexts, is difficult to dislodge.  

 

As with most trek starting points, this was a small wooden house in a small hamlet. We got a large room for four of us. We sleep on mattresses on ground. The initial briefing was usual. No one has been able to match the depth of the initial briefing by Yash. That was a long, detailed session. But AP seemed capable and in control. I was mildly irritated with unpreparedness of even this small group. People had not brought headlamp, lunch box, mug. But the most curious part was that everyone was almost a rookie trekker. They mentioned some small trails like some important achievements. Nobody had done any serious trek.

 

In all our treks there have been many trekkers who come unprepared, in terms of logistics, or the experience, or the fitness. In contrast, we 3 or more P and I, read and prepare for treks thoroughly. We judge our fitness and ability for the treks. Over seven years, we have moved gradually from altitude of 12,000 feet to 15,000 feet now. And here we have people with no trekking experience directly coming to this altitude. It is praise-worthy and mind-numbing. We have always deliberated on people turning up unprepared, and how correct that is.

 

All trekking organisations give lot of details on what to pack for the trek, and the minimum fitness and experience requirements. Yet they have almost no means to check that those who are paying are meeting these requirements. While many inexperienced trekkers do end up doing the trek comfortably, the more painful situation is that many under prepared trekkers just expect the trek leader to take care of all their inadequacies. Most obviously it plays out in the form of offloading of bags which are poorly packed and stuffed. And then many trekkers need extra and constant attention from the trekking guides to be able to cover the trek. Everyone eventually finishes the trek. While it is no race and there are no winners or losers, but there are better and poorer trekkers. Some trekkers are resource-heavy, in terms of their dependence on porters and trek guides, resources which could be better used. Many are aware yet oblivious to it and wish to add to their list of treks. Many take it as a learning and want to return stronger. But largely the trend has been to just turn up and then be taken care off. In the name of mass availability, everything goes. Trekking companies are not looking to resolve this. There is an ugliness to the whole thing, to see that something which requires some degree of preparation and capability is being taken so casually. In many spheres, the concept of deserving to attain or do something, or ‘fitment’, does not seem to apply. The only fitment seems to be the ability to pay. That said, one does laud the conviction and self-belief of such trekkers, grudgingly. 

 

One comes across as extremely judgemental and on a high-horse while saying all this. Indeed fingers can be pointed at us as we are no trekking solo or very light on the nature. But the kind of trekking one does lies on a spectrum. We are trying to be as true to the trekking part as possible by carrying our bags ourselves, always looking to trek light, not carrying gadgets, look to be as capable as possible on the trail. Many people do not bother about these.

 

The half day at Janglik was uneventful. AP took us to two traditional temples, the older one being 400 years old. They were shrines to the deity Jak-Saab, a form of Shiv. He told that most villages have their own deity. Jak-Saab takes the seat in different temples at different times and his movement is a matter of much fanfare. All the temples were built by crafty interweaving of wood and stones. Local people dedicate all their achievements to Jak Saab and the temples had many trophies and medals collected outside. AP showed inclination to share extra knowledge at every instance. G and D were keen to play the local volleyball game while we 3 just strolled. R was keen to know where all we had trekked and travelled. I and NS showed off a bit of our international travel. R mentioned places around Manali and Leh. That night, a special dish of aloo-soya was made for me as the main dish was egg curry. 

 

In our room, P and NS wanted to start strong. They hung up the red light high in one corner and put on the speaker. Throughout the trek I had to keep appealing them to keep the volume low in consideration for public decency. In terms of music, mainly the old Hindi songs, these two have just no range or exposure and I find it amusing how NS gets excited on some basic fare. They have not heard, mused, contemplated on more nuanced deeper songs both in terms of music and lyrics. But then, they do not care, especially if I say something sagely. The only other highlight of the night for me was this large insect that I saw near the toilet. It was almost 6-8 inch long with two tentacles and part-hard, part-squishy body. I explained it to P and he mentioned about leaches, something I had no knowledge of. 

 

Day 1

 

I slept well and woke up feeling fresh. Throughout the trek I have an anxiety (one of a few) of finding the loo empty when I want to use it. To this end I usually get up earlier than others. Today also, I was ready for the morning black tea. It is an important part of the trek experience for me - to savour the early morning air and calmness, with almost no one around. Today I talked to the little boy who was part of the family in whose house we were staying. He was ready in his school uniform. His school is in Chirgaon which is some distance away so he stays there for an entire week. Such life! 

 

During this entire trek, both P and NS would wake up quickly after me. On most days, R was the only other person around at that hour. Throughout the trek I would wait for the sun to come up from behind the mountains. The early light broke through at 4.45 am and we could bask in full sunlight at 6.30 am. From being in fleece jacket to brave the chill, we would quickly strip down to a T once the sun comes up. I have always liked facing the sun, almost talking to it to fill me up with the energy which moves all things, almost hugging it like a close friend. And I and P were the only ones to use every sunny moment to get some freshness and dryness into our clothes- fleece, T-shirts, towels, my woollen cap. There is some greediness to the whole venture. Most visible rocks are covered and P keeps finding quirky ways to hook up his clothes to save them from flying in wind. We may be accused to jarring the beauty of the scenery a bit. 

 

The breakfast today was toasted bread, mayo sandwiches, boiled egg, cornflakes, milk and coffee. Every day, before starting the trek we got a juice sachet and a Bar-One chocolate. I had asked for a poncho but the one that AP offered was very heavy and I bravely decided to go ahead with the flimsy polythene which P had got. It was a bad decision on my part to not address this deficiency in Delhi or atleast Shimla. I banked on my bravado and it paid off, thankfully. 

 

Every morning would start with 3-point time schedule - like 7-8-9 for black tea, breakfast and departure. Today the departure was delayed due to the bookkeeping of all the rentals and offloading. AP had been particularly fussy about the rental collection. G, D and I were the only off-loaders. G did it after much dithering as she wanted to try carrying herself. There was an early morning skirmish, first of many, between AP and C - this time about trekking in shorts. C kept insisting on trekking in shorts despite clear instructions to the contrary from AP the day before. C agreed only after AP firmly put his foot down. It would only be around the third day that things would settle between them. 

 

This was my observation during the briefing as well. This irritating trend of many people now questioning, challenging things just for the heck of it. It seems to have become a habit to challenge authority. We want to change our fabric from being a race known to accept authority. But we are swinging to the other extreme of being callous, and needlessly belligerent. To not take things lying down is a motto which is applied willy-nilly even in the face of logical and sensible things. Challenging anything needs judgement which most people seem to lack and thus they retaliate at whatever order or instruction is given to them. This, and the desire to keep asking for more. Whatever is given is less and one should always ask for something extra or different. Accepting or working with what is provided seems to be a sign of weakness. 

 

We started today without any warmup and briefing. As per itinerary, it was to be an easy to moderate trek reaching the first campsite in Dayara. Just half an hour or so into the trek, AP walked up to the trek guide Praveen, who is a Janglik local, and as per convention, led the pack. AP informed Praveen that G is struggling. AP would need to be with her and he had asked another trek leader Hardik, who was in Janglik, to join us. This set the trend of G being the laggard of the group. 

 

Our initial 10-15 minutes was through the village only. I kept wondering about their lifestyle, so different from ours. After that, the trail was mostly through forests with not much of a challenge. From early on, the trend of the entire trek was set - one of taking many pit stops. There was hardly any momentum, and I did not enjoy the trekking. Almost half way through the day’s route, we sat at a concrete enclosure near a tea-stall. Here we chatted with a group of young boys who were on the same trail. They were carrying quite a bit of gear with them like sleeping bags and tents. But they were carrying it haphazardly. It was just the vigour of youth which allowed them to trek at pace despite being unorganised. The one who seemed like the leader of the group was a particularly boyish faced, bright eyed boy who was carrying the most load. The boys were from Dehradun and Shimla and seemed natural around the mountains. They planned to tent in Litham which was to be our stop after two days. While not totally aware of the trail, there was a quiet confidence and energy about them. 

 

On the trek we had group from Indiahikes and TrektheHimalayas which were trekking BG in parallel. Thus we jostled on the trail and the camps too were in proximity. Day 1 trek to Dayara was our first interaction with them. Just before the camp site, an elderly gent of the group passed us by and NS did a 'Howdy' kind of gesture. So he stopped and explained - they are part of a running group called Jayanagar Jaguars after a locality in Bangalore, and had an offshoot in Kolkata as well. This trekking group thus had members from both the cities and there were many more females than males. But I kept seriously doubting the running credentials seeing that each member carried two trekking poles. Throughout this trek, I kept wondering that that number of trekking poles of this group would suffice almost 100 trekkers of the ilk of NS and AP who barely used the pole.

 

Dayara camp was on a wide meadow with a river flowing nearby. Throughout this trek, the camp sites were very pretty. They would typically have a river or a stream flowing nearby, a big mountain face on one side with a deep valley in between, a sloping mountain on another side which rose to a distant peak, and vistas of meandering valleys, and snow-capped mountains in distance. Here we had a relatively large stream nearby and after lunch we went down to it. But our stay was not long or pleasant, as we were jostled by the local guides to not put our feet, or slippers in water, as that water was being used downstream for cooking and washing. So after some 10-15 minutes we left and kept walking around the meadow. The rest of the group was also around but we did not spend much time with them as they had put on punjabi songs on speaker which was marring the serenity that we craved. That and their expletive-laden conversations.   

 

AP wanted us to climb a nearby hillock some 50-100 meters high. This marked the second major skirmish between him and C. C felt he was too tired and not keen to venture out to which AP did not relent. Rightly so, it was just the first day of the trek and one could not be so tired so early on. And C later showed how fit and capable trekker he was, so this was all just a tantrum on his part. That same purposeless challenge of authority or as P rightly called ‘rebel without a cause’. His friend had quietly told C to not be too stubborn as they were not here to pick fights. AP too was not having any of it. The rest of the group climbed up, and AP had a quick word with the entire Chandigarh gang, then Hardik, and he too climbed up. It was a short, steep but easy climb. There was large boulder here. NS wanted to climb it but it seemed tricky to us as it was squarish block with wall-like sides. But NS did it effortlessly. P, after initial reluctance, followed and could do it. I had reservations that I would feel vertigo and thus stayed put. I may have done it had I tried.

 

AP had a long chat with us here. He highlighted that even coming up this 100 meters would help us in acclimatising to the altitude. He said that once acclimatized to an altitude, it stays with us till we descend to altitude of below 700-800 meters. He explained about high-altitude conditions of HAPE and HACE, which can happen due to poor adaptation to high altitude and can be fatal. In my all previous treks, I had barely felt any altitude sickness other than mild tingling in head on a few days. But on the BG summit, I did feel what I think were clear symptoms of altitude sickness. Nevertheless, this discussion spooked D a bit.

 

The tents were to be shared by two, and given the number of trekkers in the group, the three of us had the luxury of two tents to us. With the initial habit of sharing a tent, we have always slept together in one tent. Now the Bikat tents were slightly smaller than the IH and TTH ones. These were mostly 5’x6’ rather than 6’x6’. Thus while the three of us could lie down side by side, we could not keep our bags on the side. So we used the extra tent to keep our bags, labeling it ‘the cloakroom’. While luxurious, this was also inefficient, as we spent a lot of time shuttling between the two tents or moving stuff from one to the other.

 

I had remarked from the KK days that the nights in tents together was the high point of the entire trekking experience for me. In fact I had even said that trekking is incidental, and these nights are the reason we gather. Maybe because I am more given to talking, exchanging of ideas, and debating. However, this trek was a drab on this count. Most nights, one of us would be too sleepy. Music was fine, but nobody is too keen to drink, in contrast to the earlier treks. I have definitely grown an aversion to drinking. And conversations too seemed to drag, with long silences. NS is not the greatest of conversationalist, atleast around me. If only we happen to discuss sports, or music, or movies, does he indulge whole heartedly. But on this trek, I had this sense that each of us was closed. Or maybe it was only me and I was super imposing the feeling. I have distinct memories of earlier treks where we three had frank, open conversations. Once was during the MT trek on one evening, and another instance was the night of Day 2 of RP trek in a hut-accommodation when NS discussed his marital situation. It is not that we three are or were very close emotionally or have a lot of heart-to-heart discussions. But there have been open and frank moments between us which have brought us together. Of course I and P share a different and deeper and older bond. But we both seemed to have outgrown it. Thus on this trek, it was mostly light banter. P remarked at one point that he had initially thought that if only he and I had trekked, then that would give us a good opportunity to talk. I was surprised with this because I do not think we have that equation any more. This is not a jilted lover’s quip but more a clear acknowledgement of the water that has flown. And fortunately for me, I am peaceful with this. That is why the quiet between us did not bother me much. I do not know if P was seeking more opportunities to open up. But then he is not one to ponder much about these things. He will let the status quo prevail and go on with what the other person decides rather than take matters in his hand and ask to be heard. So most of the times, there was either silence, or banter on at NS’s expense, or discussion on the next adventure.

 

Day 2

 

We had a shorter and easier trek to the Litham camp. I do not have any specific memory of this trail. One thing I remember is noticing many uprooted and blackened trees. I used to wonder who burns the trees at such altitudes, but for the first time, I was told that it is the lightening striking the tree. We found many such trees on this trek. Large, mighty trunks just hollowed, blackened and cut in half. One stump in the ground and a large log lying in the valley, decaying away gradually. I had never realized the nature’s play before. I wondered how it would be to see it live.

 

But both the first two days I did not particularly enjoy the trekking. Mostly it was due to the frequent stopping and I felt my body was not warming up well enough. Litham too was a very picturesque camp site. We had two nights stay here. It was in the middle of a long valley and on the one side was another serpentine valley curving into a mountain range. On the opposite side was the near vertical face of a big mountain. There was a huge flowing meadow around. On our first day here, there was another group of five of Bikat which was moving one day ahead of us. There was also another group of Soulhikers tented very close by. Since it was a short day, we reached the site fairly early and had the whole afternoon and evening to ourselves. On most days the sun was very sharp after 10 am and would bear down with all its intensity. P and NS were particularly concerned about tanning and sunburn, more than anybody else in the group. They would keep smudging themselves with sunscreen. I too used it but not with as much dedication. In case of NS I think there was a more real concern of sun burn and turning dark. For P, I felt it was a bit over the top worry about looks. Even I look very dark, patchy, and unpleasant for almost a week after coming back home. But I see this as a part of the whole process. In case of P, there seemed to be a case of image consciousness with people around him. For all his general flexibility and willingness to adapt, P can get very fussy about few things. Another one is him trying to avoid exposure to sun on every instance. For a fitness enthusiast, and one looking to extend endurance in all conditions, I find it very pointless. While I do not profess going out and seeking sun but when exposed to it, I embrace it as another challenge to overcome. Just like the case of me and dogs. Anyway, I have grown to be tolerant of P’s fusses. Nevertheless, keeping sleeves to go with our half-sleeved Ts is the idea to emerge out of this trek. I and P had one full sleeved T which we both wore on all days from Day 2 onwards and it did save my forearms. 

 

After lunch we went down to the river Pabbar which was the biggest we encounter on this trek. Right from the memorable evening of HKD, sitting on boulders on the river bank has been a thing with us. Here too we did the same. We each took our place on a boulder and just sat quietly. Nobody says anything out of an implicit pact of staying calm and giving each other a privacy. At this moment, each of us is on his own. I sat in the cross legged yoga pose and could concentrate easily. It seemed easy to get into the zone, even though the sun was beating down. I found this time as one of contemplation, introspection. I do not know what these two think of, what this means to them. For me, I tried to probe within myself, to ask what baggage have I brought to the mountains, to the rivers, if I can untangle some of myself here. It is not easy. I do not know if I achieve anything. I do not know if I try too hard. But there is a vigour to the flow of the river, to its gushing sound, which shakes me. The mightiness, the permanence, the longevity of everything around me is humbling. And I keep thinking how the river has gradually wound through the mountains, how these two have a harmonious and belligerent relationship.   

 

After some time, P and NS wanted to move. Most others were playing cards or had found some spot in a shade. A game of cricket was on amongst the trekking staffs two groups. We went to the dining tent and these two lied on a row of dining stools. This was the first time we had stools and a dining table in the dining tent. While it reduced the seating capacity but it was convenient as one did not have to take-off and wear the shoes every time. 

 

The food on most treks had been very good. All the trek organisers seem to be very mindful of this as I think they realise it is the most sensitive subject and relatively easy to score on amongst all the trekkers. Here too AP kept asking us to eat as much as we want to. In fact he and Praveen patiently waited till we had eaten and whatever remained was for the staff. The taste and variety was very good. Over rounds of breakfast and snacks, we had paranthas, aloo-puri, macaroni, pasta, pop corn, daliya, and pakoras. The lunch was always a rice and a gravy (chole, rajma, dal, kadhi etc), which was slightly low by standards of earlier treks but I was ok with it. The dinner was always one vegetable, one dal, roti, rice and a dessert. On day one, we had a very tasty shahi-tukda, then kheer, gulab jamun. The dal makhni on one day was very tasty, and so was tadka arhar dal. Treks mean eating without thinking. We could have all the sugar, carbs, fats without thinking, as the calorie burn is very high, both due to trekking and the low temperatures. On the trail, we would eat chocolates, dry fruits, maggi, and coffee. Only protein intake suffered a bit.

 

Most trekkers could be picky about food. The Chandigarh gang did not like the food on certain occasions but made no fuss about it. Many travelled with a lot of food of their own, which was made easy by offloading bags, somewhat unfairly. We 3 were not picky about the meals that were served. But P could again be fussy about the quantity. Typically on the dining table, one person would be nearer the bowls containing the dishes, and that person would serve the others as the lunch boxes are passed around. In earlier treks, whenever I filled up the boxes for P and NS, P would get irritated that I serve too less. In a communal eating setup, I always found it difficult to hoard the maximum quantity for myself. I would be considerate of the quantity in the bowl and serve for myself accordingly, like I would do with my family. P would insist on taking big portions as he maintained that he has big appetite. I always found it a tad selfish and in bad taste. I know the counter arguments. One has to eat as much as the appetite demands and these are mountains, needing more calories. The trek organizers are required to provide for everyone’s needs. We have paid for it etc etc. Still, I felt there is a level of decency to be maintained which requires not to hoard and to eat in smaller portions. Maybe I am being too nice, stupid. This time around, I mostly avoided serving much or served to P more than I found correct. Thankfully P was peeved only once, with tea. On the last day breakfast of hearty pooris, and chole, there was another instance. We three were eating together taking chole in one lunch box and keeping pooris in our hands. Now while I poured chole as much as I felt adequate, P would just gobble them up quickly with a spoon, while I was left waiting. After many such attempts, I had to ask him to hold up and let me also eat. I am sure he got irritated. NS of course was the most non-fussy eater out of us 3.

 

The Litham site had many sheep and goat herds. They appeared with the first ray of the sun and stayed till it set. I tried to understand the pattern of their movement but could not. At times, they would move en-masse in one direction or congregate to one spot, and then quickly disperse and spread far and wide into the meadow. They could effortlessly scale the slopes. I wondered what an existence they had, just grazing all the day. It seemed like they burnt more calories going up and down, one side and the other, than what they gained from all the eating. Just one mission – to keep eating. At one point, one goat was bleating with earnestness and we realized that it got a bleat in return, apparently from the other side of the river. This exchange kept on going for some time. It looked like it had separated from the rest of the herd, and a communication was happening. There was no way for it to cross the river since the fall was steep. We do not know what happened to it.

 

To me, even more curious was the life of shepherds in these altitudes. What lives they had, taking herds out all day, in this wilderness, far from much of civilization, in bitter cold or blazing sun, seeing their cattle just graze. How do they stay in such a lonely existence? How do they live in challenging winters? What do their houses look like? What food do they eat? In this extreme terrain, do they get lost, like I fear I would? What if somebody loses his way, how does his family find him? Or is death and loss more inherent to them than we can ever imagine? What do they dream of? What do they aspire? How far does their vision expand? I am sure they experience jealousy, love, hatred, anger just like us, but how does it play out in this unforgiving surrounding?

 

On one instance, a herd was crossing the river Pabbar, and someone said that one goat or sheep got washed away but was eventually rescued. I did not see this, but the Chandigarh boys had captured it. Photography is a curious aspect. I know I don’t bother about it much, and painfully so. P has always been keen about it. And this has been the biggest dissonance between us. While I acknowledge the value of capturing moments, I get underwhelmed by the click-mania which seizes at every pit stop. For me it takes away the experience of just observing and savouring the scenery, the vista before the naked eye. Looking to capture everything on camera makes us forget the importance of the moment and the fact that we are there, right there, to experience it first-hand. And another aspect of taking pictures is whether I am taking the picture of the vista or of myself in it. Is the beauty that I am seeing before me worthwhile on its own stead or is my presence a necessary addition? The latter is a bit more narcissistic endeavour, but then that is what lends more individuality, more personality to the photographs and makes one revisit them. Otherwise, there are hundreds and thousands of photographs of beautiful valleys, and mountains readily available. I am sure there is a need to balance in all this. P has over time found that balance. He is not that crazy about taking photos as before, maybe he has changed ways seeing my reluctance. I also do try and take photos when he wants. But the most amusing part is that all novice trekkers, who forget to bring mugs, headlamps etc come with the best photography gadgetry and power banks. The Chandigarh gang later told that they were carrying some 60,000-70,000 mah of power banks, and were happily gaming away in their free time. Again, excess loading on the back of offloading. The Jaipur duo too had a GoPro and battery banks but they carried all their stuff themselves.

 

At night, we ventured out for some time post dinner, as is our routine. To think of it, across all our treks, we 3 have been the most consistent in this. Across treks, across people, every one would just huddle into their tents once the dinner is finished. On the contrary, for us walking, standing, and chatting under the stars is an essential part of the trekking experience. Apart from HKD, of course. For the first time on this trek, the sky was well lit with stars. And it seemed to form an oval shaped disk, following the periphery of the mountain-line around us. I was wondering that visibility of stars too is reducing, just as the civilization is pushing deeper into the mountains. The ‘big saucer’ was easily visible but I could not make out any other constellations. I had not heard the term light pollution before. In the distance, one could see lights of another camp site, and also a solo red light. We realized later that it was a solo tent. In the middle of the night, the huge face of the mountain with lines of snow in the crevices, the far-away valleys, the strong gush of the flowing rivers, and the darkness of the meadows, all presented an intimidating surrounding. Even as I type this at night, sitting in my well-lit drawing room, cocooned in all civilisational comforts, my mind wanders to that scene. Those mountains are still standing. The river is still gushing, maybe even more violently. Each boulder is in its place. The tiny flowers are still there. The bees, insects, warts, salamanders are all teeming around the grass, the trees and underneath the boulders. It may even be raining. The meadows are intact. There may not be anybody right now, or may be an intrepid camper. May be a stray bear is now prancing around. It may be even darker because it is not full moon any more. Everything is intact, at this very instant.

 

On both the mornings, AP inserted a 30 min meditation and breathing session which I felt was a good addition. C, and the Chandigarh gang seemed intent on defying everything and would either miss it altogether or do it in a demeaning manner. For instance, not taking their sunglasses off or cap off, or not sitting on the mat but instead on a rock, or not caring to get into the proper pose. Anyway, it was a good learning for me. I had been getting up on time every day and was happy with my toilet schedule. The fact that there were two toilet tents for ten people made things easy. And also the fact that the Chandigarh gang mostly squatted in the open. I was happy that since my first trek, I had worked on sitting in a squat and now had better strength in my lower legs to comfortably sit in this position for long. I was also happy with the Bikat toilet tents, as they dug properly deep and big holes. And the biggest re-discovery for me was how convenient this position was to relieve oneself, in comparison to the western-style toilet seat. This position made one finish the business quickly and efficiently. Funnily, this was the biggest relieving factor for me. P and NS presented two other extremes. P had a more intense relationship with the loo, and whenever absent, could be rightly guessed to be on the seat. In fact, I used to be genuinely amazed that he would venture out in near pitch-darkness at insane hours of the night. NS on the other hand would skip on some days and be fine about it. I and P would be especially careful not to drink a lot of water after 7 pm as that could make us want to pee in the middle of a night, which would be a travesty, as it needed getting out of the sleeping bag, taking the headlamp, undoing two zips of tents, extracting oneself, wearing the sandals, and then trudging some distance.

 

This was a summer trek and the nights were not the coldest that we have encountered. Only one night in Litham felt chilly. In fact, Dunda which was at a higher altitude, and had witnessed rain in the evening was surprisingly warmer than Litham. On all nights, I slept in a single T and fleece, with a woolen cap, and socks. Only in Dunda did I take the precaution of a thermal layer, which too was not necessary. I had thought I might need woolen socks but it was not needed. Every day, around 6.30 to 7 pm I would start to feel very cold and layer up with down jacket, cap and socks. And the chill would relent only after I had my dinner. But overall, it was not as chilly as our earlier treks and it was easier to move about the camp sites, and get out of tents.

 

Day 3

 

I had woken up early as per my usual time. And R from the Jaipur gang was also up. On many days, the Jaipur boys would put up Hanuman Chalisa and bhajans (Hindu texts and prayers) on their speaker, blaring through the morning air. These are followed at my home and I knew them well. NS commented that he liked these and these were a good start to the day. But I found this a bit un-secular. Today morning, as I and R were just standing casually, soaking in the air and surroundings, I asked him about his education. He was just 23, so young I felt. Then he got curious and started asking about my education and career, and career decisions. He asked some incisive questions on whether I have achieved the goals I had set for myself when I started working, on how does one decide to leave a job, on financial matters. He mentioned his humble roots and I felt happy that he had moved up in his life.

 

Today was a day trip to the Chandranahan lake. This meant that we needed to carry just one bag between the three of us and I took it. This was lighter than the usual full bag we normally carry. The trek was around 3 hours. It started steeply and then flattened a bit. We all rested on a big rock, when Praveen was called by AP on his walkie. G was struggling and needed to be taken back to the camp. From the flat land, we could see our upward climb to a peak, and it was steep. But it was a good climb. This was the first time that I enjoyed my trek. On the steep ascent, I kept telling myself to take small steps, have a rhythmic breathing, and maintain a tempo. It helped that almost the entire group trekked without stopping with Jaipur boys leading the way. AP did a smart thing by putting C and Di with the responsibility of prodding Ish. And they knew how to do it, using abuses and insults much more than genuine motivation. They formed an interesting group. C and Di were fit, and competent trekkers. C was more rebellious while Di was quiet and appeared more sensible. C was a compulsive smoker. It helped that he was a strong trekker as he could stray away from the larger group a bit, to be able to roll his own cigarette when others took a break. And he had a filthy mouth, so much so, that after a point I would not be able to stay at the same place as him, even though most of his abuses were directed to his friends and he meant no real venom. Ish was the weakest trekker but softer than the other two. He liked to talk about apples and apple-related travel that he had done in Himachal. I was surprised to hear that he had dropped studies after school. I kept wondering who, with means and resources, does that in today’s times.

 

At the top, the IH and TTH groups were also present. The lake itself was very small, but the view of the valley below was beautiful. AP told that this is first of a series of five lakes and the others are further on behind the curve in the valley. It would take almost two more hours to cover all of them, and some are inaccessible due to thicker snow. The villages bring the idol of Jak saab here on an auspicious day to bathe in these lakes. The lakes were considered holy and he asked us to respect them, to not pee around them or drink water directly. The lake was mostly frozen, and made a nice photo spot.

 

This also presented a spot of a small mutiny. The others in the group were keen to go on further, to explore the second lake atleast, while AP had said that we need to return from here. The Chandigarh and Jaipur boys were rebellious, that we will never come here again, so why not venture further. They tried to persuade us seniors to talk to AP and we were not too keen. Eventually NS agreed to just talk to AP but not insist. AP was firm that we would go no further. He mentioned that it might rain soon and we should head back by afternoon. The others were not happy. It was rich for someone like Ish to want to venture further when he had been struggling to reach here. And again, I felt it was a childish tantrum when the itinerary is set and each trek leader would want to stick to it and not take needless risks. These are mountains and nothing is certain, in terms of weather or terrain. Also there was no fixed goal post. A few hundred meters more would not change anything, there would be yet another goal post. There was no boundary to be touched, the expanse beyond us would never end. So what was there to be achieved, then just a pat for the ego. AP wanted a group photo at this point, but the entire gang had staged a retreat, as a sign of disapproval. We three were unperturbed. A group photo was taken at a different spot.

 

At one level, I always believed that one should follow the trek leader, almost blindly. They know a lot more than we fathom, and consider many more variables than we are aware of. It is natural for many people to suspect every service provider. A particular Indian mentality is to consider inferior the person whom we pay for a service. There is an inherent suspicion of whatever he says, to think that he may be cutting corners, or trying to provide a lesser service, or just making things easier and more profitable for himself. Thus there is an urge to cross question every decision. While it may be true many times, but one should recognize situations where one needs to suspend such suspicions and to accept the guidance of an expert. Mountains and trekking is one such domain. We barely understand the situations, the permutations and combinations at play, the variables, and the eventualities. Thus it is sensible to submit to authority, even if it means a slightly inferior experience.

 

The story of the five lakes and the villagers made me muse again. How dense are these mountains? What all lay beyond? What we can see? And I am aware that it is not some big mystery that I am pondering about. All these places are well-tread by humans. One cannot help but marvel at the spirit, the curiosity, the courage of people who traverse these landscapes to know more. I wonder about the earliest explorers – British or Indian who mapped these places. AP was explaining to me the broad geography – three lines are in parallel - on one side is the Rupin line, than the Buran line, and the Kinnaur line. Buran pass stands between the Shimla district to the Kinnaur district. To think that all these ranges, this terrain, this vastness is explored on foot and mapped. Giants standing on shoulder of giants. It would have taken hundreds of years, combined knowledge and expertise of locals and outsiders to draw a detailed map. I am almost sure elections reach till here, all these shepherds are listed in polling lists. Election officials traverse these mountains to get votes. We see so many peaks and we grow fascinated – is it some famous one. On the last day, AP mentioned for some peak that this is unnamed. And it struck me, ofcourse! Every peak cannot be named. It may be inconsequential to be named. Is every peak actually scaled? Or are some too minor or too complex? Does each peak still challenge climbers? Does Alex Honnold know about all these peaks? Maybe all this is my naivete, my fascination with things very banal or commonplace, atleast for the locals.    

 

The descent from Chandranahan was as much fun as the ascent. It was brisk and vigorous. There was this one incident of P throwing a tantrum. He asked NS to walk ahead and make a video of him descending gradually. Since it was a video, it needed everyone to be quiet. There was one failed attempt. In the second attempt, I intentionally blurted something like ‘Come on P, what a lousy trekker you are’. P got irritated, just sat down and said he did not want the video anymore. I kept pleading him to try again. Both I and NS offered to run down faster and make another video, but his mood was spoilt. In the final stretch of the descent, both NS and I made a fast dash, almost running full tilt, supported by the gravity. We must have covered some 300 meters in 2 minutes, feeling every bit like the marathoners that we were, only stopping at the crossing of a stream.

 

The first evening in Litham site, AP introduced some group games. In the Rupin Pass trek, Bharat made us play many games. This is one way to pass the long evenings in mountains. Here the first game was based on the players’ names and P and NS were the first, and effectively, the only ones to decode it. The second game was the elephant game to which we still do not know the answer. But these games brought out a very ungainly side of AP, something which carried on for the remainder of the trek. Till now, he had looked like a leader in command, doing all the right things. Be it keeping the Chandigarh gang in line, taking the small hike in Dayara, the morning meditation sessions, beginning each day on time, holding his own at Chandranahan lake. My only objection with him so far had been that he had not shared more of the minute trekking details like how to pack the bag, how to lift it, how to carry it, how to hold the trekking pole, how to tie shoes, correct posture etc. Lot of these details we knew because of Yash and Bharat. But the rest of the group did not. I had to advise many people on the trail on how to hold the pole and to not swing it into the trekker behind him.

 

But while playing these games, the sheen around AP came off significantly. Here he indulged with the team like a bawdy teenager, not just sharing but instead adding to the crude jokes and crude language. He just lost his aura of the trek leader, and in the process of breaking boundaries, stooped too low. I was genuinely surprised to hear the language that he started to use. And from this point onwards, that became his language. In actions as well, he seemed lesser of a leader and became more of a fellow trekker.

 

The Litham site had a constant company – a dog. On most treks one encounters a dog which keeps company on the trails for a few days. We asked AP and he mentioned that this dog is well fed by the kitchen staff. I was wary of the dog from very early on and both P and NS kept chiding me or covering me. On one morning they mentioned that it had almost climbed upto their chest and only because they were both confident, could they handle it. C too had his way with it. One evening, while I and P were strolling around the site, observing the movement of the cattle, what later turned out to be two bitches, came down from the mountain slope and this dog ran up to them. After that started a long routine of fornication. I and P tried to make sense of what was happening but I gave up after some time and went away. When I returned, P and NS informed that the dog had consummated with both the females. This was nature’s play. From that point on, NS, applying standards of humanity, kept jibing the dog on its lust and character. 

 

On Day 3 evening, it rained a bit as AP had predicted at Chandranahan lake. Had we really trekked further and deeper, we might have encountered the rain on the way back. We hunkered down in our tent. The fact that our ‘cloakroom’ was the other tent, we did not have a poncho to venture out. While the cloud cover looked really thick at one point of time, thankfully it did not rain much. I do not particularly enjoy rain in treks as the site becomes slushy and everything becomes difficult to navigate. The fauna starts to teem that much more, and the clothes and tents get dirtier.

 

After not being able to ascend to Chandranahan, AP decided that G should not go further. AP had mentioned before that Chandranahan trek is a test of the ability of the group to go up to Buran Pass. It tells him the fitness levels, the speed of the group and who stands where. G had been struggling from Day 1. After this, AP felt it is better that she descends back to Janglik. G had trained as a scuba instructor which meant she would have good control over her breath, and she did show willingness for physical sports. As per AP, the concern was more about her body not adapting to the higher altitude. It was her first time, anyway. Hardik would take her down to Janglik, from where she would get a drive to Rohru and then Chandigarh or Shimla. We wished her luck. She seemed keen to give trekking another shot.

 

Overall we did not get as much time as we would have wanted to spend at the river bank. I had gone down to the bank on both the days in early morning to wash my hands and face and hair thoroughly and then apply soap and moisturizer. I also shaved on two occasions while on trek. I find it strange that both P and I struggle a bit to shave without the help of a mirror, something I believe we should be able to do. Another hygiene routine that I had followed on other treks was to wipe myself with a wet towel, and to change my underwear every evening. NS would get amused and call this my metrosexualism and CTM routine – cleaning, toning, moisturizing. On this trek, I did let go off some of this routine, and repeated my underwear, also to see if I can get by with lesser number the next time. An interesting incident happened when I wanted to change my tshirt and both of them were in the tent. I asked them to look the other way while I changed my T. This surprised P no end, and I agree it does sound strange. A guy being bare-chested is not a matter of hesitation in most situations, much less so in front of two friends in a tent. I put it down to the fact that I was not comfortable with their gaze. I do not know what the reason is. Anyway they relented. P, on the other hand, almost made it a point to go topless, publicly, at each site. He later explained that he felt he had a good body, and even without that, he did not care.   

 

Day 4

 

Day 4 saw us trek to our main base camp for the pass – Dunda. We were to gain altitude of almost 500 meters – from 3700 meter to 4200 meters - which is a good ascent for one day. There was a steep hike initially as we climbed up and away from the Litham site. We then encountered a river crossing. We took off the shoes, hung them around the neck, rolled up the trousers and formed a human chain. It was a simple, quick cross. After that it was a flat, and bouldery landscape. After crossing another stream, we came to a refreshment hut, which was a marvel at this altitude. Naturally, the prices too were steep. We rested here, following the IH group. The view was nice as we were at an altitude and seeing the vast valley below. Litham campsite was visible in distance. We ordered maggi and coffee. NS obliged to carry all of this, even though ogling the IH girls. From this point, the climb was steep and relentless till the Dunda site. All of us climbed without any break and quickly reached the Dunda site. The weather here seemed different.

 

Dunda site was not huge and flat like Litham but it was still very pretty. Small flowers were strewn across the mountain floor. There was a small stream running on one side of the site. On one side we could see the face of huge mountain range, just across the valley which we had traversed. Its peak and crevices were filled with snow. On our backs, beyond the stream was the meadowy-face of a short hill. And diagonally across lay the Buran pass which we had to cross the next day. It looked very near and easy. I did feel relieved on seeing this as it looked more reachable and tractable than Rupin Pass. All these days I had been banking on the fact that BG is a simpler trek than RP.

 

The small stream was dotted by neat rows of yellow flowers. The weather was overcast. After lunch, we lounged on top of a big rock. But it soon started to rain and we had to rush inside the tent. When the rain ended, the whole site was filled with thick fog. It must have been 4-5 pm but felt like 7-8. The fog suddenly swam away and then re-gathered after some time. It was mainly the clouds which were floating around us. When the weather cleared, we chatted for some time on the big rock with the larger group. Ish told us about the entire Spiti route which one can do. He said across the Buran pass is Kinnaur which is one of the prettiest part of Himachal. He mentioned reaching Sangla, going up to Chitkul for a day trip. Chitkul is very near the Tibet border. From there, Rekong Peo, Kazo, and Tabo. We also chatted with R, the little boy from Janglik who was trekking with us.

 

Every trek has its share of jokes between the 3 of us. And some are worth it to last the whole time that we are together. One of the jokes to emerge from this trek was the one related to ‘mundu’. P suggested this idea and NS latched onto it. That we should hire and pay for a support guy to do all our sundry tasks during a trek. From this point on, NS kept listing all the things which the mundu would do, adding boundless comfort for us. This would include – carrying our bags on the trail when we want, unpacking and packing them at each campsite, washing the utensils, bringing water, arranging clothes for us, even giving a massage. The list of tasks for the mundu to do kept getting longer, and NS kept getting excited at the prospect. The joke was naturally extended in many directions – preparing a JD for selection, making a selection process, compensation, his rights and duties, future prospects for the boy etc.  

 

R was jovially identified as a possible mundu candidate. So we were genuinely surprised to know that he was 17 years old and in class XII. His school was some one hour walk away. He mentioned how he would traverse snow during winters to reach the school. Even during exam days. Imagine going to school every day in this landscape. I again wondered about the lives and aspirations of these kids. He had taken off from school to make some extra money. He had walked from Janglik to Buran many times and done the pass some three times. It was very easy for him and he sounded casual. He said that we would go up to the pass with us and then return to Janglik – covering the entire distance in a day! And alone! That entire stretch of some 15-20 kms! I asked what if it rains, what if he loses his way, gets lost? He did not seem to think any of those was a problem. I asked will he take shelter from someone? He said he would if it really came to that but he did not think that it would be needed. He may reach late but he would reach Janglik the same day. He, as part of a school group, along with a teacher, was going to trek to Kinnaur Kailash. He sounded excited.    

 

Today there would be no soup as dinner was to be served early. Next day was the summit day and I was anticipating a 4 am start. But I was surprised when AP mentioned that it would be a 3 am start! The timing was 2-2.30-3. There would be no black tea but just normal tea, breakfast, and departure. I was worried about my morning loo routine. When to get up to avoid the rush? AP mentioned about keeping toilet paper handy as many may feel the need to relieve while on the trail. This was something I had never done before. We also got microspikes, and shining new ones at that. We were used to dirty, mud-strewn spikes before this. After the dinner at 6.30 pm almost everyone retired to their tents. We knew we would not sleep that early, so we passed time till 9.30 before calling it a day.

 

Day 5

 

Alarm was set for 1.30 am but I woke up before that. I had a reasonable sleep. Better than I expected. As soon as I woke I realized both P and NS were awake. NS said that he had barely slept. P rushed to the loo before I got out of sleeping bag. One of the memories of Rupin Pass for me was that we three had barely slept during the two nights before the summit hike. And I commented after getting up on the summit night – what would be trek on, just adrenaline? Here I had slept better but adrenaline would still be needed. I was feeling good, morning routines were followed. I brushed my teeth in pitch darkness, standing alone near a rock, on the moon-lit meadow. I am always surprised by the fact that in cities, I am very careful not to drink cold water lest my sensitive throat would get disturbed. In mountains, I drink one liter of chilled water in near freezing temperatures early in the morning and yet face no problem. Medical reason apart, I feel there is a role of mind-over-matter. Or the body knows how to keep all lesser worries at bay when an arduous task is at hand. Like it is with sleep as well. We manage to trek for six days with less sleep and body is able to bear this, only for the sleep debt to be covered once back at home. I am sure that if it is longer than six days, the body would find reserves to do that as well. Anyway, as I was sipping water, I could see the TTH tents but there was no movement.

 

The 3 of us moved efficiently and were ready by 2.30 am. This was one main difference with us on this trek, as compared to earlier ones. We were better organized this time. On earlier treks, we would mostly be the last to leave the camp site, invariably getting late with our packing, even though we planned in advance. For one thing, being three of us did not lead to any scale efficiencies. In fact it added to discussions and deliberations. While there was no disagreement or argument, but all decisions were deliberated. Left to oneself, the thinking would be internal, and actions would be quicker. Here we would almost spell out our actions and seek approvals. For instance, one would call out ‘I am keeping only two chocolates in the top flap’ to which others would chip in with ‘better to keep three’ or ‘why even that, we would not eat chocolates today’ etc. And then there was the thing about the common stuff which was distributed across the three bags and inventoried every time we packed. For us, this may not be very efficient, but it still was part of the fun of trekking together. But on this trek, we were more organized. May be the stuff we were carrying was lesser, maybe we had grown more accustomed, or the warmer weather made the movement of mind and hands faster. Individually I felt I was not chaotic in packing and unpacking as I had been in previous treks, and would be ready with my stuff very quickly. My bag too was packed better than before although the balance as off on some days (I did not feel my bag as connected with my body on this trek as I had felt on previous ones. NS would just not know this feeling given how his bag is packed and carried). I have never unpacked and repacked everything like P does on most days. I think that the amount of stuff that we carry would reduce even further which would make things even smoother for us.

 

Everyone else too was ready on time for the day. The breakfast was boiled chana and daliya, both easy to make and energy giving. The formation of the day was already decided and we 3 were put second last as a group and Jaipur boys were in the rear as they were best trekkers as a group. This had caused a lot of heartburn to NS as he took it as an insult to his trekking prowess. P calmly told him that because of his slow speed, we as a group were not the fastest. But NS would have none of it and wanted to prove himself to the charkha and set things right. NS was wont to take a quick affront. It was still very dark and we set off with our headlamps on. The low temperatures meant we had three layers - T-shirt, fleece, and down jacket. And woollen cap, and gloves. However in hindsight it was not that cold. We had barely started and Praveen was called by AP on walkie. He went back to the camp and came back a few minutes later. He now carried a spool of rope with him. Apparently there was some confusion on personnel and equipment. The IH and TTH sites were empty so they had started ahead of us and we could see their streak of lights some meters ahead of us. 

 

After navigating a short turn and going down to a stream, we had to climb up continuously. Ish, who was in the lead was given to frequent stoppages. This was something that I had not liked on the first two days and it started to bother me physically. Also, I was not feeling fully comfortable, somehow due to the darkness. In KK and RP we had trekked at this hour and I had enjoyed it but here it was bothering me. There was a slight dizziness while climbing up. I told this to the two. I was hoping to feel better once the sun came up which would be after an hour. We drank our juice sachet to keep hydrated and to get the energy. As we had earlier seen, the final pass stretch seemed very close but more distance kept getting added. Our site was visible for some time and disappeared after we turned round the mountain on a small meadowy trail. We were approaching the pass from the left flank. There was a short patch of firm ice which we negotiated without spikes. While seeming tricky at first, it became easy once I started putting small, firm steps. AP had told us to put a flat foot on solid ice. I saw two guides coming behind us without headlamps and in normal shoes. Most trek leaders and guides were trekking without spikes and much more basic shoes than ours. Either being locals or due to practice, they knew how to walk on a particular surface. It was all a matter of how the muscles and bones of the feet and ankle had developed, on how one places his feet, and of the weight one exerts. And there were different tricks for different surfaces. Landing on toes, on heels, on side of the foot, flat foot, light foot, making deep footholds etc. I would get filled with awe seeing the leaders and guides walk, nay glide, so naturally and gently, to see them almost perch on boulder edges in perfect balance, to see them make easy routes out of what appear as precarious passages to me. Their knees bend smoothly, their shins and ankles appear rubbery. They just know instinctively how to walk to each surface. They have developed muscle memory for this.

 

AP also told us about the very thin layer of ice on the stones which makes them very slippery. I thought we had seen every form of ice and snow that was to be seen in our earlier treks but apparently this was new. I have read somewhere that the Inuit people have hundreds of terms for snow. During trekking we have encountered its many forms - the powdery, fresh snow in which feet go deep, the slightly hardened one on which the spikes can jam and one gets better grip, the really hardened glassy snow which is very slippery and tough to negotiate, and now this. AP told that it is called verglass. He also told us to be careful of snow around big boulders since that snow could be thinner than it appears and there could be a hollow space below it. Again this was new to me and nobody had told this before even though we had trekked in snow plenty of times before. 

 

We soon encountered a bouldery section and I realised the peril of verglass. It was very slippery to plant one’s foot on it. I grew wary of large boulder faces which earlier I had thought to be an ally. Instead I looked for small pebbly surfaces as they gave better traction. This was solid trekking on ice and boulder. At this point, there was a bit of chaos. Our group and the IH group had mixed, and AP did not seem to be in command. A big snow section lay ahead and while the IH instructor asked his team to wear the spikes, AP said no to us. Earlier I could hear him talking to the IH leader on what routes other trek leaders  were doing. Or he was on his walkie, vigorously sorting out some logistical issues, about R’s desertion or someone else indiscipline, which would cost AP. He seemed to be more lost in all the logistics and charges, and fines instead of helping the group traverse the tricky patch. The group itself seemed to be in disarray. Eventually we also put on our spikes for the snow patch. It was not too difficult and we navigated it comfortably, for me made easier by putting my feet in the huge footmarks created by P. Next up was another bouldery section and we had to take off the spikes. The sun had come up now but I was not feeling any better. This bouldery section was long and the major one before the main pass. From distance it had appeared short and I had thought it was the easier section of the whole day but I was wrong. 

 

The TTH group had taken a different route from further left. IH was jostling along with us. As I had seen in Rupin Pass with Bharat, I was hoping that A would combine forces with other groups and we could trek together with more guides and leaders for support. But here AP was in competition. He was keen to overtake IH group. As it happened, we all ended up jostling for space. This bouldery section was very tricky for me. These were big boulders with huge gaps. So we had to keep finding the best path through them. I realised later that a pole in hand was a big deterrent. With both hands and both feet, they would have been easier to navigate, on all fours when needed. My short height would have helped me better. For a large part, we were ascending so there was a steep slope to contend with as well. My philosophy always is to not look down the slope lest I get vertigo. In Rupin Pass I had done the same but there we were traversing thick solid snow which gave firmer footing. Here it was unstable rocks to find a foot holding on. The path up or on left both looked tricky to me. There was no fixed trail and everyone was finding his own space between the boulders. There were a couple of occasions when I felt that I lost my footing or felt dizzy and swayed a bit. 

 

Soon we were near the final snowy patch reaching up to the pass. But everyone had decided to take the bouldery path on its side. So the IH and our group were almost covering it in parallel. At one point, P slipped slightly which caused agitation from an elderly lady trekker. She gave sharp remarks - do not overtake on mountains, do not make other nervous with your recklessness. Fair comment. P quietly followed the group. Now we were going up and through these huge boulders. A slip would not mean a downhill slide but a fall in a crevice with broken bones. I never felt comfortable here. Some IH trekkers were going through the snowy patch, supported by their able guide. AP’s presence was not too conspicuous to me. I distinctly felt he was nowhere when the team needed him. 

 

Anyway, we 3 were moving together. P was in fine spirits, much better compared to Rupin Pass. I and he had traded places, from how we felt during that trek to now. NS as always was confident and nonchalant. Amongst us 3 he was the most natural trekker. He would trek in various ways - holding a small bag in one hand, without a trek pole, with a shirt casually hanging on his shoulder. In fact most times, his bag is poorly balanced and hung in even worse fashion. But none of this bothers him. He glides smoothly on the trail. I would be the second best in terms of movement. This is surprising because normally I have much better balance in yoga poses, when NS hardy has any. I think there is a horses-for-courses argument here. Generally, I feel I have good movement and descend and ascend in an even manner. I am conscious of how I plant my feet and try to be nimble-footed. It is only the instances of vertigo which throw me off. P looks the most unnatural trekker. To me he always appears to be landing very heavily and he does not have a smooth motion or rhythm. His movements appear very strained and heavy. On the trail I had noticed D a lot and could clearly see that his feet landings were incorrect. He had an open gait and both feet landed outwards. And on many occasions he did not seem to have any balance and seemed to sway uncontrollably. But howsoever anyone does, everyone does complete the trek.

 

We finally reached the pass and it was very crowded as all three groups had almost reached together. Still the pass was much wider than Rupin Pass which had much lesser space. Once at the top, I was drained and sat in one corner. Everyone was celebrating. The trek leaders and guides had already got busy laying down the ropes and bilay for the downward rappel which was the highlight of this trek. Most people had taken out their phones and started to call. AP had told us that there is a strong signal at the top and thereafter. I had been looking forward to it as I had been particularly homesick this time with my own fears, and dad’s condition. So I also took out my phone. I called mom but the phone was not picked. It was around 6.20 am, 3 hours since we started. But mom tends to be up by this time. I tried SJ knowing that she would be asleep. She picked up after a few rings and immediately said ‘Hi! what a surprise!’ Hearing her faint, early morning voice, I started to cry. I still do not know what it was. Maybe the fatigue, the relief, the anxiety, the fear, or combination of everything. I told that we were on the summit and from today onwards I would have connection. She sounded relieved. I kept asking if everything is alright, if mom-dad are fine, if the kids are fine. She assured me all is well. Meanwhile Mom called back and I talked to her. She too was heavily relieved. She told that Dad had been very worried but he was ok. I was almost choking and could not talk anymore. After keeping the phone down, I kept sobbing for some moments. NS was beside me and he noticed me some time later, and without saying anything just hugged me. It was a very singular experience for me – to break down like this, and to be comforted like this. I just explained to him that I was very anxious about Dad so it was good to know that he was fine. He was not seeking any explanation. It was a big revelation to me that both P and NS were much more carefree and nonchalant about talking and informing home. P was happier the longer time he did not have to touch his phone. NS too was not in any hurry to inform anyone back home. Both of them truly wanted this time away from usual city life and phone. Maybe my stage of life had changed for last one year, which made this difference. But I found it truly laudable how calm and composed they both were.

 

After that I continued to feel low. I was feeling very cold, and suddenly had a stomach ache. I noticed P too was making a call home, more out of peer pressure. Most people were. The Chandigarh gang had long video calls to many people back home. Then the photo clicking started. P wanted a photo of the 3 of us. I agreed for a few. And then I had to say no, and P realized I was not well. I sat in one corner. He gave me some water and then the stomach ache eased. He kept my bag beside me. I was sure I was experiencing some form of altitude sickness.

 

Now everyone was ready to rappel down. The other side of the pass was 50-70 meter snow face and for us novices it was not possible to trek down it. So rappelling was the only option. It was also a selling point of this trek. Rappelling requires one to be almost perpendicular to the wall and control the downward movement with slight release of the rope which is tied to he harness around one’s body. To be done entirely individually requires precise movement and upper body strength. Here the speed and motion was being controlled by the trek leaders at the top and we just had to be in the correct posture. P said that I should go first but I was not sure who or what arrangements lay below. AP had barely prepared us for anything. Eventually we 3 were the last to descend with P first, then me and then NS. There was no guidance or instructions on the technique of rappelling, or on posture, or do’s and don’ts. Praveen had already gone down to receive the trekkers. R was manning the rope (he had already and easily made it to the top, we do not know when) and AP was administering the whole thing. There was already one outburst from Praveen from below to ask R to not release the rope too fast. I was initially a bit afraid, seeing the steep climb down and to go into it this fall with the back facing it. It felt like slipping into an abyss with eyes closed. But when my turn came, I was able to get into position fairly easily. I was able to throw my body back and get it almost perpendicular to the wall. But the downward ride was not smooth. There were three other ropes which were dangling beside ours. Also the other end of a second rope was coming up with an empty harness, which obstructed one’s path. At one point, there was risk of colliding with person on the other rope. There were many instructions flying around. I kept going down jerkily. The worst part was that one did not know where and when it was to end. Suddenly I felt like I was falling uncontrollably. Maybe R had let go off the rope. In the last 3-4 seconds, I was falling and landing without sense. I could make out that Praveen was standing below but I felt that I could not stop myself or gain any footing anywhere. Finally another guide caught hold of me and firmly pushed and rested me against an ice wall. His face was very close to mine and his eyes seemed to say ‘get a grip, sissy’. This was a small landing on the bottom on which stood Praveen, this new guide and me. But this guide was giving no respite. He immediately wanted to take off the harness and prodded me to keep going down. I then realized that the landing was a small place, somewhere three fourths of the way down from the top and there was a fair amount of distance to descend still, now on foot. The guides were anxious that the next trekker would be coming down from top and there is not much space here. So he just prodded me to keep moving. I had barely got my bearings. I asked him to take my pole out which P had tied to the bag. I opened it and it came unhinged. I quickly joined it back, and started to go down gingerly. This was a downhill walk at some 60 degree incline in thick snow. I was shaken for the first few steps. Thankfully I had a fair bit of experience, and quickly got the sideways stepping movement which we novices can use. I could see P ahead of me walking very unsteadily. I quickly got my balance and technique in place and could walk down quickly, over taking him. On reaching a flatter spot, I waited for him. I called out to him to land his feet sideways instead of straight downwards, but stubborn that he is, he would not listen. He gradually made his way to me. Meanwhile NS was also walking down, in his usual flamboyance. He was instructing and assisting two other guys.

 

This side of the pass was a vast open land of snow. There were mountains on both sides but between them was acres of open space all covered in white. Trekkers were looking like ants in this landscape. I was not sure which way we had to go. Many of IH trekkers were going left and up a protruded path, which was separated from the main field by a row of rocks. In the center, some 30-40 meters ahead was another rocky patch on which some trekkers were sitting and I guessed this was our group. We gradually reached them and rested. Everyone recounted his rappelling tale and apparently most had an unpleasant time. Praveen was also here. We were noticing the action at the top. The leaders were undoing the ropes and gradually making their way down. It was mesmerizing to see them come down the slope without a rappel, just balancing on their two feet in basic shoes. In fact we also saw one leader climb up this almost 80 degree wall quite effortlessly. These men were made of different stuff altogether. Who we thought was AP turned out to be another leader who came down quickly combining his nimble footsteps and agile slides. His body language seemed to say ‘What’s the fuss about?’

 

Praveen asked us to start moving. What lay ahead was a combination of snow and boulders. Critically we 3 had run out of water. P had lost his bottle at the Litham site and NS’s Ravenclaw was what it was. Generously, the Jaipur group had shared some water with us at the top of the pass, but there was a limit to generosity in these conditions. The next 2-3 hours were excruciating. The descent from Rupin Pass had its scary one hour when we were in snowy terrain. There were narrow passages with steep slope on one side, and many people had slipped on these. NS had a narrow escape. One person had slipped quite some distance, only to be stopped by Bharat. These were slips which could genuinely be fatal. Here the snow was not so deep nor the passage narrow. But it was bouldery. We saw instances of what AP had warned us about – very thin snow near the boulders, and we were able to guard against those. One snow patch was slightly slippery and P fell twice. I told him twice to try and keep short steps, to plant his feet flatly but he has a habit of not listening to me. He always feels he knows best and cannot be instructed, definitely not by me. What I call his inherent stubbornness which is his undoing in most things, although he is not willing to accept to accord.

 

The boulders were tough to negotiate just like on the ascent. There were gaping holes between the boulders and one had to find the best way forward. Everyone was making his own path. What from distance looked like a walk on stones was looking tricky on close quarters. The body was fatigued. And my mental powers were not at their best. So maybe my decision making was a off. I did struggle on a few occasions and one time NS had to help me. I was reminded of many IH trekking videos which while talked of descends said that the strenuous boulder section is a challenge of physical and mental toughness. I always used to wonder what can be the problem with boulders. Today I realized both the physical and mental aspect of it. After almost an hour of this, we rested. AP had caught up with us by this time. Further up, the big boulders had given way to smaller ones. Now we did not have to navigate wide crevices. But the descent was steep with stones jutting out everywhere, so this was a test of the strength in knees. P looked fully drained now. None of us was talking much but he looked particularly somber. I commented that he is in battery saver mode. Finally, AP told that there is a stream nearby. P who was behind us went and drank directly from it. But he did not have any bottle and NS and I had already passed it. I did not have the energy to climb back to it but thankfully NS did. He went and filled the bottles and we had water after almost two hours.     

 

Next up there was another stretch of snow. We could have gone around it through the boulders. Typically in a descent, it is common to slide on snow. It covers distance easily and quickly. But here there was a danger that the snow was not thick and there were boulders near the surface which can seriously injure in case of a slide. Praveen went ahead and checked a bit. Then we saw D and one of the Jaipur boys slide down. Again there were no instructions on the correct technique to slide, something we had learnt in earlier treks. D took a tumble and was lucky not to have injured himself seriously. I went soon after, and slid more smoothly, covering more than half of the snowy patch. The rest half I walked, reaching the grassy section. My lowers were very wet but that was no issue as the sun was beating down. The descent continued to be steep. We were soon out of the snow line and were now descending on a normal grassy, dusty, stony trail. By this time, everyone was exhausted, the legs were super tired. It seemed a task to lift legs over even small stones. My left knee was paining for the first time in my life. I was aware of certain muscles being more tired and I was not putting the most efficient foot forward. My muscles were guiding how and which foot to plant instead of my mind. Our next stop was a dhaba and I and NS made a dash for it. C was in the lead followed by D and then me. After a steep descent for some 30 minutes we reached there at about noon. I immediately took of my shoes and the two socks I was wearing in each foot (I had stupidly got normal socks and not towel socks). I sat on a rock in various postures to ease all the leg muscles. C was lying down on a rock. We ordered maggi, tea, and omlette at the stall. P came some time later, just in time for the omlette and maggi. We also ate the packed lunch that was given to us at Dunda. During Rupin Pass, it had been tough to eat the cold roti with the flavor-less beans. I and NS were unsure of the packed lunch here as well. But thankfully, this one was better with more flavoured roti and cabbage dish.

 

We took a much-needed break of 45 mins. The food and water and the rest recharged the batteries. The weather had also turned overcast and few drops came down. For the first time ever, we used the bag cover. Our path was to go down a stream from where we filled our bottles and then up a meadow. The meadow walk looked comfortable and it was. The rain picked up and everyone took out their ponchos. My moment of reckoning was here. I took out the apology of a cover that I had and surprisingly could wear it in a quick motion. It served the purpose in this mild rain. Now the trail was relatively flatter, with a mountain on our left and a valley on the right. At this time during the trek when the hard yards are done, the mind wants to relax a bit after being alert for so long, mostly everyone in the group goes at his own pace. This time, the Jaipur boys and D were ahead, we three in the middle and the Chandigarh gang in the rear. The hard part was done. Now it was just about bringing it home. I also relaxed that the difficult bit, about which I had worried all along was done. But then I saw what felt like a steep descent, with valley on one side. I waited for AP. He gradually led the way and we followed. But very soon there came a very narrow section. I got scared. AP asked P to hold my hand and he did although he himself was not the most sure-footed. Then I asked NS for help who went ahead of me. At the next narrow stretch, he took my pole and held my hand and made me pass. I can recount such similar patches in MT and HKD as well, where I know my vertigo flares up and my balance goes off and feet become unsteady. I do not know whether I will be able to master it ever, if I even want to put myself in that situation again. It would be quite a mental victory for me if I do.

 

After this, the walk was smooth and we reached the Manirang site at around 2 pm, a full 11 hours after the day started. The last stretch needed a steep but safe climb down a meadow. There were 7 tents here which was a luxury for us. We chose our two. The site itself was not as beautiful as the earlier ones. There were a lot of shrubs, stones, and animal dung around. We were just happy to have finally done it. In a rare candidness, NS admitted that he was slightly worried about today, that everything should go smoothly, that nothing untoward should happen. I was surprised.

 

There was no lunch today and the camp site did not allow for much of strolling. So we all rested in the tent only. I and P did some light stretching in that small space. At Litham also, I had suggested some stretching exercises. Here also, I did so. To which, NS exclaimed that there is no yoga instructor of Doc’s caliber in Mumbai.

 

It started to rain and we were happy to stay put in the tent and cool off. As it turned out, we were the first group to finish trek and return to base, the other two had taken two more hours and must have encountered heavy rain in the last stretch. So, there was some merit in AP driving us the way he did. During the final briefing session, AP had mentioned that we were quite capable as a group. That is why he had allowed a more relaxed starting time of 9 am on most days as he knew that we could cover the distance quickly. Indeed, on most days we started after the IH and TTH groups and mostly finished before them. I am not sure whether this was indeed a reflection of the group’s fitness or the fact that other groups were bigger and thus prone to more weak-links and longer pauses. In two previous treks, KK and RP, and from the trek leaders of the pedigree of Yash and Bharat respectively, we had heard similar praise for the group. That the final summit of KK and RP had become tougher than usual due to various reasons, and the group had done very well to overcome that. I do not know if it is a marketing mind-game to end the trip making the customer feel better about himself. 

 

We skipped soup and waited for the briefing which happens at the end of a trek. This briefing can be a highlight of the trek depending on the trek leader. KK briefing was in the more comfortable environs of a Sankri home, and so was HKD. These were long affairs. There were more people, the group had become more cohesive and everyone was expressing themselves freely. The trek leader too indulged the group. And there was also a certificate distribution at the end. KK briefing was fun and raucous, aided by Yash. The IH group also shared their recyclable wares for people to buy. MT and RP briefings were in the dining tent on the second last day. While lesser elaborate, these two were detailed as well. Again a larger and talkative group meant that there were a lot of comments. Here we were not expecting much and we were right. AP quickly opened the floor to comments and it started with us. We made detailed comments. I diplomatically pointed out the deficiencies. Others had almost no comments and the session was wrapped up quickly.

 

To the point of racing with, instead of collaborating with the other groups, AP mentioned that in BG, there is always a race to the top to lay down the rappelling ropes and hence there is no collaboration. In our discussion with AP earlier, he had mentioned that in Bikat model, the trek leaders have much more responsibility. I pointed out that the site logistics, movement of men and materials, the team at the summit etc should be managed by separate teams. But as per AP, it was all his responsibility. He even had to cook and porter bags when these people did not turn up at the site. I think this was why Bikat kept team sizes much shorter than IH and TTH. They saved on costs by asking the trek leaders to perform multiple roles, in return giving them smaller teams. This is a management lesson and a case study in itself. But I think there is a need for a rethink because larger or smaller, a group needs guidance on the summit and the trek leader should be unencumbered from all other responsibilities. His attention and focus should only be on the group’s safety. I had some sympathy with AP. Even during the Buran descend, we was involved in logistics of the Manirang site, and while descending from Manirang, he was involved in booking of our cabs. 

 

Day 6

 

That night everyone slept well and woke up fresh. I too slept more relaxed and woke up at a slightly later time of 5.45 am. We 3 spent some quiet time savouring the nature one last time. AP walked up to us and mentioned that this site is a personal property which was surprising. Here the sun reached the valley later than 6.30 am because the mountains were nearer. AP had asked the group to decide the departure time and everyone agreed to the usual 7-8-9 as we were in a hurry to reach Shimla. I had offered the Chandigrah gang in advance that we can all go together in a vehicle, but only if they do not take too many puffing and drinking stops and slow all of us. But they were also keen to hit the bottle at the first opportunity and to reach Shimla early so as to spend more time celebrating in Shimla. Today, almost no one had black tea other than me. The breakfast was the highly-anticipated chole puri. We 3 ate with gusto. It saw the familiar incident of me leaving out parts of the puri that I find very thick. This has been a big poke for the other two against me – my habit of leaving parts of roti aside because I find them too thick or doughy. This had come to their attention when we first went for chole bhature after a half marathon. And it has been a regular jibe whenever we dine now, rightly so. These two have no qualms and always eat whatever is served. They even eat the parts of roti that I discard. They call me ‘Rajababu’ in disdain.

 

After the hearty breakfast, we set for the last trek, to the village of Burva from where we would go to Shimla by road. I was expecting it to be a short trek like in Rupin Pass but AP said that it would take 3-4 hours. I was expecting it to be a stroll but it was slightly more than that. Like it happens in almost all the treks, we 3 are always at the rear end on the last day. AP was staying close by, maybe because of my comments during the de-briefing session. At one point, the path forward was on a big tree trunk which bridged a portion over the valley. It was 5-6 steps only but almost suspended in air. Praveen took the rest of the group through a slightly longer and safer route. I was clear I would take the same route. AP was ok going over the tree and P and NS followed. P aborted the plan and joined me after seeing what lay ahead. But NS, always up for a challenge and to prove to himself, went on and crossed the log. Then we descended down to a stream (one always comes down to a stream and ascends again). This stream was bridged by a big log, this time wider and flatter than the earlier one. P started up front but got jittery and asked AP for help. NS helped me again by holding my hand. From this point, the climb up was steep and from the opposite side it had looked tricky. But actually it was not and we traversed it easily. After this stretch, and the initial one hour, it was smoother walking. We ran into the IH group and they were walking very slowly. It was surprising to see them walk gingerly on this easy terrain after the summit hike of the previous day.

 

We were now into civilization, walking through villages. AP told us a lot about the flora that we encountered. I tried to memorise – pine is a family of trees and both deodar and fir are types of pine. Deodar has more symmetrical growth of branches compared to fir. And then there is blue pine. The other trees are oak (white and brown), teak, rosewood, cedar. We also saw apple shrubs, GI-tagged Kinnauri kalaunji, big walnut trees, apricot and peach shrubs, plant with cobra leaves. We amazed at the thick trunk of some of the trees and wondered about their age. They have been standing as witness to so much before us. AP had a good knowledge base. On the trail he had picked leaves of small nondescript plants and made us smell them. One was the mountain garlic, which I had put in my water bottle. We were now strolling comfortably, passing through shrubs with bright green leaves, and my relaxed mind imagined that they are talking to me.     

 

We quickly overtook the IH and TTH group. At one resting spot, I noticed three tall spools of steel sheets which were folded and tied like a log. An old man, must be in 50s, and two younger men were sitting under a tree. The younger men definitely looked like brothers. The elder one of them was busy chatting on this phone and the younger one, who was still a teenager, was squatting and peering into his phone. Soon we heard the roars of loading of guns and firing of bullets and canons. This came from his mobilephone. P looked at me and smiled and I smiled back, at the irony of the image. As it turned out, these three men were also taking a break just like us. They got up, the gamer put his phone in his pocket, and each of the three picked up one log of steel sheet on his head. The elder brother was still video calling on this phone, while taking that load uphill, nonchalantly. Humans!

 

And just like that, we reached Burva. At exactly the point where our trek ended, the vehicles were waiting for us. The Chandigarh gang was ahead of us and took one vehicle with D. We 3 took another vehicle with the Jaipur boys. It was a brisk severance of ties that had bound us for seven days. We returned the spikes and were keen to get into the Bolero. AP came to us and hugged and said goodbyes. It was 12.30 pm and had gotten very hot. I volunteered to sit at the last row. During the return journey of Rupin pass, the situation was similar and the last row of Bolero can become very suffocating in the afternoon heat, more so because we descend and get into warmer climes. But I was fine with it, and also I felt that with my short height, I would be more comfortable than the rest. I had thought that we would bump into the other group when we break for lunch but it did not happen. That was the last we had seen of the Chandigarh gang.

 

I fished out my phone and talked to everyone back home. I was so happy to hear the voice of the little one. I was told how Dad had been so worried for me especially since yesterday as there was not further news after the early morning call. The news of the outside world was negative. The AI-171 crash happened while we were away. This incident really shook me in an unpredictable way – then and more so when I had returned to Delhi. I kept picturing the predicament, and horror of the pilots and the passengers in those 30 seconds before they were charred to death. I do not know what personal thought I was super imposing but something in me stirred deeply.

 

We stopped for lunch at a place called Bushahar. The driver had taken long to stop for lunch as he wanted to stop only at a place of his choice, where he gets a good incentive, much like the case when we had started the trip. The other gang had lunched in Tapri – Ish was well aware of these parts. I used the time it took for the lunch to be served to talk to SJ at length. The lunch was an average affair and none of us liked it much. The TTH group also came in as we were finished.

 

It was a long, and uneventful drive. NS had graciously accepted to sit on the last row after lunch. For all his penchant for fine tastes, and luxurious living, he surprises me a lot by accepting and adapting to such modest situations. He was really down to earth most times. The key decision to be made at this time was the journey from Shimla to Delhi. D as well as the Jaipur boys were keen to join us. We were contemplating between a rented car and a bus. Eventually we settled for a bus. P was quiet like he usually gets by the end of a trek. His patience gives in by this time. We call it TMOEO, meaning that we have had enough of each other. I have also felt it before but not anymore. I have learnt to take his behaviour more easily. I was surprised when he said that he would not check bus or cab while in a moving car. We reached Shimla at 9.30 pm, 9 hours after starting from Burva. During the last stretch, I was discussing Jaipur, fresh from my excitement of JLF, with the two Jaipur boys. They got very excited and discussed animatedly. P kept quiet.

 

Our bus was to leave at 10.30 pm and I was keen to make a move. We took our luggage from the cloakroom, rearranged the bag a bit, I quickly changed my tshirt in full public view. We contemplated dinner but there were no good options and we were not too hungry. We reached the bus ahead of schedule and waited. The bus was more comfortable than I had expected and we settled in nicely. While this is how the seats were available and not an intentional plan on my part, I had booked two seats in one row and one seat in the row ahead. I did anticipate some privacy. And on the cue, P announced, ‘TMOEO ho chuka hai’. We all slept off.

 

I woke up at around 4.45 am anticipating my drop off point. The sun had come up as it did in the mountains at this time. My stop came at around 5.30 am and both P and I got off, after a warm hug to NS and a goodbye to D. It had rained in Delhi and the weather was overcast. P went to pee and asked me to look after his bag. I stood there, early morning, damp, cloudy weather, the city slowly waking up, less than 24 hours separated the time when I was standing in that meadow surrounded by sheep to now under this flyover, unwashed for seven days, unshaven, feeling dirty on the outside, a thousand thoughts on the inside, waiting to be back home.  

 

Postscript

 

1.         

 

The biggest part of any experience of us 3 is the fact that is involves us 3. We have now done 5 treks, and two shorter trips together. These 7 occasions have cemented our bond, of the smooth way in which everything happens. P has waxed this fact many times. Last February, we were in Dharamshala and on the way back in a restaurant in Pathankot he exclaimed that it is surprising how quickly the order of every meal gets decided between us. There is never any strong disagreement to anything. Indeed I cannot think of any minor unpleasant incident between us 3. I guess the Jaipur debacle would be the only one. Or my irritation with their conduct during HKD. On this trek, NS did lose his composure once. This was in Litham, when out of the blue NS took out strange stuff from his bag. This was a scissors, a sachet of wet wipes, and another pouch of complimentary stuff given in an airlines which contained more packaging than anything consequential. I and P were surprised that NS had been carrying all this weight (weighing may be 100 gms in total) without us knowing. Naturally, plenty of jokes and jibes followed his way. We decided that from next trek, the list of essentials would be clearly laid out with an allowance for such discretions and indulgences. After a point, NS grew wary and defended his right to carry a scissors, as much as us two carrying a razor. Such incidents apart, it is indeed remarkable that we 3 have such cohesion, when each of us can be called a bit bull-headed or short of temper. But for each other, we are very considerate, ready to allow some peccadilloes, quirks and some extremities. There is indeed a bromance between us. NS and P have their way of expressing overt romance for me. But all is in good spirit. Everything is taken in good spirit between us. Nothing is seen cynically, or with some ulterior motive, mainly because none of us brings any personal agenda. We all think we are in this together, in every way. For every divergence in behaviour of any one, and each of us has those moments where we are not well-behaved, howsoever infrequent it may be, the other two are quietly aware, and indulge it tacitly. Such a convivial environment is rare to find, and contrasts with our personal groups. Traveling with family is more arduous, especially for each of us being the primary decision maker, and implementer. It is a challenge to align everyone, to make them move and act in cohesion, and to execute everything. That is why most such family trips can be mentally draining, whereas for us 3, we remain fresh even after a week (apart from P’s TMOEO).

 

It also helps that each of us is individually capable and there is an equal sharing of responsibilities. We can lean on each other as the need be. During the Chandranahan trek, P remarked that he remembers that he would not have completed KK summit if he had to carry his bag. That was a summit day and, like Chandranahan, only one bag needed to be carried between the three of us. I had done the bulk of the carrying and NS the rest. Here also, I carried the bag during the ascent and NS during the descent. Neither of us thought even for a bit about unequal distribution of labour. We were all fine about it. There would be hundreds of such instances across the 7 trips which are testament to the ease with which we 3 travel together. NS is willing to sleep on the floor in all hotel rooms with no hesitation ever. I am always the first one to wake up and get ready and then wait for these guys, again without a second thought. The only place where some disparity does emerge is in sharing of stuff to carry on the trail – each of us is worried about how much load he is carrying and there is an odd murmur of disgruntlement on having to carry more. I mentioned that a ratio of bag weight to body weight but that was summarily dismissed by the two.

 

I do not know what explains such alignment, or if there is any reason to think of it also. We 3 just get along and are extremely chuffed about it. We are still keen to meet up and plan more activities together. Maybe we are this compatible only in such endeavours, that we would not mingle so well in more usual environments. I do not know. As things stand, we are up for much more.

 

P has more of an individual relation with each of us. I and NS do not share a similar individual bond. But we too have grown close over time. Our personal spheres do not overlap that much, and we both respect each one’s space. Still, we are open and frank with each other, and none of us would mind even if the boundaries are crossed, and expanded. I and NS are quite divergent, as against me and P (as per P, we are very similar), yet on such pursuits, we are extremely happy in each other’s company. NS has his overt expressions of love for me. While I do not have such expressions, but I am indeed extremely fond of him. On this trek he was a big comfort to have behind me, during the tricky passages. I have asked him to stay close, with the right of a true friend. 

 

2.        

 

I feel that after this trek my confidence has shaken a bit. I do not feel as easy about altitudes as I used to earlier. In a promotional video prepared for my last employer – I had said ‘how can you be a trekker when you are afraid of heights’. But now, the vertigo seems to be catching up with me. On this trek there were occasions when I relied on NS’s help to get me through when with some more courage I could have navigated myself. Of the summit day, the aftertaste is not pleasant, just like it was not for P after RP. I do not grudge the grueling descent, but the way my mind and body was not coping with the ascent is what worries me. Sometimes I feel my body is physically telling me things I am not willing to listen. During this trek we discussed a lot about the next exploration. We are all keen for a longer rafting trip. For trekking, both I and P have lost the inclination, me after this one. I feel it has to be something very simple. NS on the other hand is keen to expand further. Throughout the trek he kept discussing expedition level treks – Kang Yatse, Friendship Peak, Bali Pass. I and P would listen quietly, be party to his discussions but knowing that we are not participating. Even Goechala caught NS’s fancy on the last few days and it seemed tough to me. Nothing seems tough to NS, he is indeed made of sterner stuff. Now Killi is back in active discussion. But it is still some time away. I am still not cooled off from Buran.

 

3.        

 

All three of us wonder on the environmental footprint we leave while trekking. Each trek involves long road travels through mountains. And it is painful to watch the extreme attack on mountains – they are being cut to widen the roads, and punctured and concrete poured into them to make tunnels and flyovers. This is very evident in Shimla, Dehradoon and slightly upper reaches. Our travel requires us to use these roads, so we are also the clientele demanding this exploitation. Looking at the majestic mountains of all the campsites, I kept wondering that these are too far from the tentacles of human greed and reach, but I shudder to think that I may be proven wrong in some years. There are people on this trek who would prefer to walk a few kilometers to a photography point and then sit in a car and drive off. Why walk at all.

 

During the trek itself, the human footprint is expanding. All the trails now have many trekkers. Offloading services, and technology have ensured that people can carry more stuff. So instead of reducing the baggage, trekkers now carry more – adding to the packed food and gadgets. I was genuinely surprised at the plastic waste we 3 generated. We got a juice satchet and a chocolate every day – so 6 wrappers. And the stuff we carried with us plus what we bought at dhabas, all have plastic residue. Even washing utensils or washing hands means detergents being washed into soil and water. While we were conscious of dumping everything in the waste bins at the campsite, we were not sure it will not end up in the mountains itself. We routinely trample the flora and fauna of the mountains. At Dunda, the trampling of flowers was obvious. People carry big speakers and put it on high volume on open meadows disturbing the routines of the nature.

 

I do not know what the solution is. This is a long debate on public policy, and rights and responsibilities. Does everyone, even those less physically capable, have the right to see these vistas, and thus infrastructure should be created for them. Or should there be an implicit pact that everything cannot be for everyone. That there is a concept of fitment. Like many things in life, mountains need struggle and only those willing or able to put in that struggle, get to see its glory. The summit push to Mt Everest is a case in point. I am against reckless democratization of things. But then I am a beneficiary of it to some degree. I cannot trek by carrying everything myself, without the road network to the starting point. I believe a serious thought needs to be put to define boundaries. The level of encroachment should only be to the extent that it causes least degradation to the nature. Beyond that, it should be available only to the capable. I know the counter argument also, that it would open the market to the wealthiest and not necessarily the fittest. But at least the wealthy would have to put in the hard yards himself.  

 

4.        

 

In the mountains, everything seems slower. On earlier treks, time would flit away in doing daily chores. Here we had more time on our hands. We were literally passing away time sitting around. Earlier, with snow on the camp site and lower temperatures, decision making becomes slower, actions become slower. And we are not as efficient in packing or decision making which wastes more time. But the more one sees around, it feels nature also moves slowly. Nobody is in a hurry. The sheep, the goat, the clouds, the bees, the shepherds, the cooks in the kitchen, the guides, all are moving at a luxurious pace. We city people only have this innate need to rush. Everything is wound tight for us. It is like that precise chain reaction, domino effect, where if we are late by a minute at one place, the whole day would spiral out of control. But it is not so in the mountains. They give you the luxury to breathe.

 

But then what do I know. I realize we city people have no inkling about how nature works, or even what it is. We have only read about it in our science books. Over decades, we have grown distant from nature. Some people do gardening at home, some people have weekend getaways in farms where they grow their own crops. But overall, we have no sense of the ways of nature. Of the intricate patterns, inter linkages at play. We have no sense of how animals behave, of the weather patterns, how plants react, how rivers flow, of how insects and moths can change mountains. Even writing about it is so futile because I do not even know what to write about. Talking to the local people, one realizes how closely woven their lives are to nature, and thus they have such an innate sense of it. They would understand some of the complex natural systems much better than us. Like shepherds feeding salt to goats. I know P would say that that is what they have grown up as so it is natural for them to know it. But I just feel we are poorer to be so alienated to nature. That this city life, while enriching in material ways, is so deficient. That it is a tragedy to die without having sensed, seen, observed, understood just a tiny fraction, of the glory of nature.  

 

5.        

 

I do not know why we trek. I read recently in newspaper that tourism is ‘a yearning to see what was authentic before it disappeared, or contemplate the sublime infinity of mountains..’. Is that what it is? Is it a form of tourism for us. Of course, tourism is escape from the banality of everyday life. Are we seeking the same when we trek? Or is it a challenge to be overcome? It does make one feel good about oneself once we have scaled a summit. So is it a boost to the ego, also added by the fact that not many people we meet in daily lives are able to do it. Or is this a transcendental experience, to see the other worldly, as well as to see within. Are we seeking some answers about ourselves? P would say we trek simply because ‘It is there’, and ‘If not us then who’. I do not know for sure.  

 

6.        

 

I feel I am struggling to adjust back to my routine life. I started writing this almost 4 days after returning and today it is exactly the eighth/ninth day. Much has been happening around me. But I am still there. May be the haze is dense this time. I know it would dissipate away. As with most of my writing, it leaves my system in an absolute way. I yearn that some part of it remains in me. I have not processed my emotions fully. It is not some warm, fuzzy feeling. I was very scared at the beginning of the trek. I was worried all throughout it, and it did not finish pleasantly for me. So I do not know what to make of it. At one level I think I associate trek as an activity which others around me do not do, so it allows me to feel better about myself. A challenge taken and achieved. But it touches a chord other than that of achievement, which I do not know what. The emotional roller coaster can be intense at times. For the first time, this time after returning, as soon as I entered my room on that Sunday morning, I felt it is so cluttered. My house, my world seems to be cluttered and crowded to me. As if I am still in the expanse of the meadows. I can list more objects in my room than I can in the acres of that meadow. It is not like I want to live there. No, I would not enjoy that or survive that beyond a few days or weeks. But maybe the mountains make the imperfections of this mundane life more glaring. The whole lifestyle of mountains is so minimalistic that I feel exhilarated. This has been an expanding theme for both P and me. We want to reduce the physical clutter from our lives. And mountains allow that to a great extent. We repeat clothes, do not wash utensils upto a point, do not keep cleaning the tent. One learns to live with less, with imperfections, with uncleanliness (and not lack of hygiene), with uncertainities, with unforeseen-ness. But all such habits come to nothing in city life. Our families, our culture, all are prone to over consumerism. More is better. Pack more, eat more, buy extra, have more choices. One cannot be too safe. One must cover all eventualities, leave nothing to chance. It is all jarring to me. As a downside to trekking, I feel I have grown more alienated to the ways of people around me, thus becoming a bit of a recluse. I want to abide by some degree of my trekking lifestyle but that is just incompatible with the way those around me think. It is not a skill that I have acquired but a burden, a dissonance that one must surrender to. 

 

What surprises me is that once back, there is very less change at a personal and emotional level. Very soon, the usual trappings of the competitive city life are back. We are back to the grind, feeling the same anxieties, insecurities, irritations with people around me, same dissatisfactions, same unhappiness. Nothing cures. Maybe it is too much to expect after just 7 days of trek. I wonder how to be cured of some of these natural human follies. What will it take for me to be able to see beyond them? To move beyond them? It is not some divine intervention, but a rethinking. A rewiring. A parting of the clouds and the open blue sky to appear, and the sun to gleam over me, hug me, and cleanse all the staleness out of me completely. Till then, I search.