As a graduation gift, I decided to give myself a much deserved break from my routine monotonous city life ( I’d like to add that the Himalayas provided just that and more to me).
So, I decided to go on a trekking expedition along with my friends; the trek was also an excuse to have some quiet time for reflection to figure out what path should I choose, now that I was no longer a student.

So yes, we planned a trekking trip, booked the tickets and left for the mountains.

I must admit, I was in no way prepared to handle what was in store for me on this trek.

For lack of options, we chose a trek which was only moderate in difficulty​, as stated on the website. What I had failed to realise was that, this was only my first trek and moderately difficult was soon going to become pretty darn difficult for us.

Day 1-

We started our trek from a small village at the base of the mountain. All geared up, I felt this mountain was mine to conquer. We steadily kept walking all morning and decided to stop for lunch once the sun was over our heads.

We had traversed a few plains, a river or two until then and I was now even more confident about my abilities to best this peak.

We were soon fully fed and so we resumed our journey. 5 km done, 5 more to go.

Only the 5 left were not like the previous five. Soon after we resumed, rain started to fall and the trail was getting steeper.

Few hours into the trek and despite the rain coats, we were soaked and our rucksacks were getting heavier with every step.

This was not what broke my resolute.

No, it didn’t happen until I looked up and found myself still surrounded by these mountains which still looked as tall as they did in the morning before we set forth for our journey.

When you are at the foot of a mountain, daring to climb its summit, you’ll realise why some poet must have used the word ‘Mighty’ to describe them.

I was not exhausted yet, intimidated and a little tired maybe, but we carried on and completed the scheduled 10kms.

The remaining 3 days of assent were similar, if only more arduous, climbs.

What kept me going was as we kept reaching higher, the air kept getting thinner but the view at every moment kept taking my breath away.

The mountains, the mighty mountains that surrounded me kept getting closer and then towards the end of the trek, I was the one watching them from above.

Every cold night we braved, in our tiny tents curled inside the sleeping bags, and then each day woke up to a view, that made us wonder if we were still dreaming. I never knew then that, I’ll yearn for nights like these, once I am back in the city on my warm cozy bed.
I saw a sky full of stars and wow, it was special!

It took a lot of will and determination, more than anything else, to climb the summit, but in the end, I can tell you that every single step, every stumble, all the headaches and the cold weather, it was all worth it.

I was all out of breath when I reached the summit. And once there, I was forced to bow down to the mountain peaks, they looked like royalty; crowned with pure white ice, resting comfortably on cushions made of clouds.
As we descended down the path, I couldn’t help but notice that it felt like re-entering the earth back from heavens.

It was an adventure of a lifetime. Thankyou Himalayas

I am not a person who is fond of travelling. I get home sick pretty quick. But, then the view from the top made a very good point.

It is not just the new place that urges me to go on another trip.

I look forward to meeting new strangers, hearing their point of view towards life, and simultaneously correcting mine.

I met people who lived in the small villages and despite the freezing weather there they were the warmest people I’ve met. Everyone joking, laughing, more importantly talking to the person in front of them instead to the one in their screens.

They lived in a secluded place and yet held no reservations against the people alien to them. Where we had trouble carrying one rucksack on our back, a woman older than my mother could climb with three. Even then, she smiled at me, understood the pain I was enduring and tried to motivate me. I couldn’t get her name but I will never be able to forget that grin on her face.

My companions too taught me a few important lessons. Those you can’t really write down or express in words.

Back home I read books to learn new things, but when you are travelling you can learn by observing people. These are not life changing formulas that you learn, little bits which probably help you become a better self or at least some tricks you can amuse yourself with.

And of course, every travel experience leaves you with a ton of stories to share with your loved ones. I like to see the look on the face of my parents when I tell them about the near death experiences I had. No, I didn’t exaggerate anything but my parents somehow still think any minor incident warrants that look- the you could’ve died look.

“Traveling is food​ for you soul” – some travel bug told me.

In my last travel blog I did say, I hate traveling but I love it, and I kept my promise of not letting any opportunity to travel go by easily.

I am now eagerly waiting for my next encounter with the Himalayas. And this time, I’ll carry a little more respect for these Mighty Mountains.

Thanks for reading:)


4 thoughts on “Travel diaries – Oh! The Mighty​ Mountains.

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