Our trail began through
a wooded path with tall, sturdy conifers and the Himalayas were no longer
visible. Tenzi dai, our guide, told us that those forests are a
gift from our colonial masters, who replaced indigenous flora with pine trees
to supply wood for a variety of purposes.
We stopped for tea at
Chittrey. The tea shop there was the last establishment on Indian soil, beyond
which lay Nepal. Throughout the trek, we would often alternate between India
and Nepal, we were told. Over tea, the weather changed dramatically with the sun
preferring to hide behind the clouds.
As we walked through the
forest upto our next pit-stop, we saw trees full of beautiful red and yellow
rhododendrons. All this changed after the break and we were asked to take the
motorable road, due to the fog. The fact that I had totally neglected any
fitness routine came back to haunt me on the slightly inclined path we treaded.
We were served lunch in a local household which doubled up as a hotel for
trekkers. Funnily, when the food was served, we spent time experiencing the
warmth of hot rice and dal than eating it. The next few
minutes were silent, punctuated periodically by speech to ask for servings of
the items, for all of us were terribly hungry. I do not know whether it was due
to the fact that we were served good food, at such a height, in such cold or
just that we were hungry or a combination of both. There had been no
delicacies, no exotic dishes, yet there was a deep sense of satisfaction
within.
Perhaps it was the food.
Or perhaps, I was tiring after having walked for so long with a backpack.
Post-lunch, on the last leg enroute to Tumling, our camp for the night, I
slowed down a little. This resulted in me having to walk alone at times, giving
me time to be with myself. I remembered having read this statement somewhere –
“If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company”. Fortunately, I
found this experience quite enriching. As I walked, I did feel the urge to
off-load my backpack to the mules next day onwards. However, I had come to the
trek with the purpose of putting my physical and mental endurance to test,
hadn’t I? Besides, you experience a masochistic high in that pain when you push
yourself to the limit! Thus, those momentary urges were fought back.
The fog was now so thick
that the visibility had reduced to perhaps less than five metres. It is when
the external world has nothing to offer that the vision turns inward. I was
concentrating on my breathing, trying to recollect what we had learnt about
hemoglobin as part of a course in physiology. In those few precious minutes of
silence, there was nothing to listen to but my own heartbeat. It is in moments
such as these when you realize that, perhaps, a trek, where you focus on your
breath, is also a method of meditation. With every step you take in the
mountains, you learn to love your heart - tirelessly beating, womb to tomb -
adding new dimensions to your outlook towards life.
That evening in Tumling,
over soup, we had another ice-breaker session. Each one of us had to introduce
ourselves along with what ‘excited’ us most. More importantly, each person had
to remember the names and interests of everybody else preceding him or her. I
felt sorry for Tom & Brownene, both British, as they struggled to pronounce
our names. It was here that Hemanth joined the group. He had planned on
trekking to Sandakphu alone. However, due to uncertainty in weather, he decided
to join our group. Hemant had left a lucrative career in the corporate sector
to co-found a trekking group in Bengaluru called Nature Walkers. I felt an
admiration (with a tinge of envy!) at his courage to take such a decision,
living life on his terms. He was then on a two month ‘sabbatical’ in the
mountains. Why is it that we always admire those which do not conform to the
norm?
The next morning, we
were given a wake-up call at five-thirty so that we could catch a glimpse of
the Sleeping Buddha range at sunrise. It is named so because it appears
like a person sleeping, with Mt. Kumbhakarna forming the nose, Mt.
Kanchenjunga, the belly and Mt. Kabru North and Mt. Kabru South, the feet. It
was too cold and the fog was still lifting as we walked nearly a kilometer to a
proper view point. From the view point, we could also see the Everest, far
away. Despite a very strong temptation, I shall not be putting up any image of
the Sleeping Buddha range here. Looking at the mountains, we realized
what all we had missed the previous day, walking through the fog. As the first
rays of the sun kissed Kanchenjunga, it turned a beautiful shade of gold. Gradually, it shifted to yellow and finally white. A
profound sense of peace filled within, at that sight. I will perhaps fail if I
try to write down what exactly I felt at that moment. “Experience cannot be
explained” (a very famous line from a very famous Kannada movie). Walking
through dense fog had been worth the effort, after all.
Having had such a
beautiful opening sequence, what would the day have in store for us? The trail
that day to Kalipokhri lay through the Singalila National Park, home to the
endangered red panda. Would we be able to see the elusive red bear-cat? Only
time would tell.
To be continued...
