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I had been leading (or thought so) a very comfortable life until 3 years ago. Venturing into the unknown was not my cup of tea. Little did I know that stories of faraway mountains would itch my heart so hard to push it out of the very comfort zone it hated to leave. My mind was completely blank after I booked my first Himalayan trek. A little later, like foreign territory, it was bombarded by all ifs and buts. First trek, solo, what if I don’t make to the summit, what if I don't cope up with the cold, what if…And the only armor against those attacks was to prepare well and be mentally strong. As the start date was approaching closer, my excitement and anxiousness were like ponies in a racecourse. And with that excitement and anxiousness, I embarked on my journey. It is intriguing how we human, in need of the hour, look for familiarity even in strangeness. That's how I ended up trusting a stranger, who had just returned from a Himalayan trek, to hold my hands and direct me throughout the alley while I kept my eyes closed until we were in front of Taj Mahal. Yes! that’s how I had imagined seeing Taj Mahal, the symbol of love, in its entirety with my naked eyes for the first time and but never imagined doing so with a stranger. After travelling 1000 miles, it was not just the landscape that had changed, but also whiff in the air, everyday colloquial and habiliments when I set foot on Kasol. Our camp was located on the bank of river Parbati. The mystical sound of waves was like a lullaby to the cluttered mind from the city. Our group was an epitome of saying- age is just a number, with members of all age groups having the same zeal to conquer the Himalaya. With a bag on back, a stick in hand and faith in heart, we started our trek on 4th day after reaching Kasol. Most of our mornings were spent moving from one camp to another. It was not only the lower camps I was leaving behind, but also the anxiety and fear I had at the onset of this journey. The long trails tested us on many skills with as basic as walking. What gives me goosebumps even after 3 years of that trek, is trail to Ming-thatch camp. The steep long trail weaved through thick forest with native deodar and pine trees growing skyward at all possible angle restricting the sunlight. Sun rays, nonetheless, pierced through them kissing the soil beneath. Like a red carpet, perched leaves laid on our way which rumbled as we walked through them. The soothing shade of trees, the stillness in the air, occasional chirping of birds and the earthy smell had the power to elate all the human senses. The nights brought darkness and surrealness with them which had their magic. Many times, we uncover our deepest secrets with strangers which are hidden even from the closest friend. That’s how I connected with some while reminiscing life in that darkness. Unpredictable climate and mountains have a thing. On our way to Nagaru- base camp to our summit, what was clear sky a moment ago was hailstorm within the next. However, this harshness intensified the beauty of our deserted camp by depositing fresh snow. On the summit day, neither did the chilling wind piercing our bodies like needle nor did the pitch-dark uphill trail guided by our torch lights could dither our hungry soul. Blank! Once again, my mind was blank, out of happiness when we reached 13,800 feet above MSL. The entire mountain was snow-clad with no sign of vegetation. We played, danced, clicked pictures, hoisted Indian flag, wrote names on snow, made snowman and did all crazy things. We were so lost in our happiness that didn't realize the passage of time until our guide asked us to move. As we started to descend, I looked back and recalled a quote, “No person ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river or it is not the same person.”