Holy Himalayas!

by Anindita Chatterjee (India)

I didn't expect to find India

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“Is it going to rain?” I asked, looking up at the sky that was turning into an ominous gray shade. “You’re in the mountains, anything can happen.” quipped the tea stall vendor, pouring us a steaming glass of chai. I turned to my friend who simply shrugged. There was no question of turning around. A continuous steady trek of 6 kms had gotten us to the halfway point where stood this quaint Himachali cafe called ‘Magic View’. The air was thinning and the thought of a nice hot cuppa and warm Maggi was too tempting to pass. We weren’t the only ones there, considering it’s the last rest stop on the Triund trail where one can catch their breath and also stock up on supplies. I remembered that the last 4 kms of the trek is a bit strenuous (as my research had revealed) with some 22 sharp twists and steep climbs. I had started out with a bucket load of excitement, as a virgin trekker normally does, but the first leg of the trek had worn out the initial adrenaline and with it, the uninformed optimism. The view did a lot to soothe the tense nerves, with the sun shining on at a distance on the entire valley of Kangra, a small town at the foothills of Himalaya. Spring was just beginning in this part of the country and the colors were already starting to peak through. In juxtaposition, the snowy peaks of the Dhauladhar range had disappeared under the clouds that were now heavily looming over us. A nudge from my travel partner broke my train of thoughts, as I turned to her urgent face signaling at her wristwatch. It was half past 3 and we wanted to make it to the summit before dusk to catch the sunset. If it rained, it would slow us down. Finishing the last of my tea, we paid and thanked the vendor and set off. He called out, “You might want to keep your wind-cheaters ready!” as we started our ascent. He wasn’t wrong, for in a couple hundred meters, we were greeted by a downpour. Only it wasn’t rain, it was hail! It wasn’t exactly surprising since we’d read of weather extremities during such treks but nothing quite beats the real time experience, does it? Within minutes we were freezing and bruising as the hail turned rough and we were forced to take shelter near a thicket. No sooner were we joined by a group of squealing travelers who hadn’t seen it coming and we all shared a laugh at the absurdity that this weather was. It stopped as abruptly as it had started and before we knew it, the sun was upon us with not a hint of monsoon clouds anywhere in sight. With the hail leaving the earth rather treacherous, we carefully resumed our climb but were running out of breath much faster in this patchy section of the trail. Parts of our clothes had gotten wet earlier that was adding onto our discomfort. We tried to pace ourselves better and take lesser breaks but it felt like we were continuously falling behind. I was starting to give up on the idea of capturing the sunset hues and was nearly regretting the decision of not starting early, when I took what seemed to be the millionth turn and brazenly stopped at my tracks. My friend nearly bumped into me and was almost about to give me a hearing when she saw what had gotten me to stop so unexpectedly. There it was in all its glory - the mighty snowy Dhauladhars, standing disarmingly tall and proud right in front of us with its three peaks - Triund. Summit was another kilometer from this point, but till date, this remains my personal victory for it was this bewitching moment, where all my doubts ceased to exist. Oh, and we witnessed the most bewitching sunset up there.