Dangers around the bends

Here, on these walks, the import of being alone, yet with companions in ear-shot, comes home as nothing else. On these walks, the need to be alone, the desire to walk alone, the urge to think alone; as one of a group, made each one of us keep a different pace, but within reach of each other. As time went by, D literally flew ahead, without mules or porters or a guide. We did not see him for hours.

We saw an unknown man being carried on the back of a porter – the man being carried was unconscious and his entire body had swollen up. Would he last until he reached a hospital? Very difficult to say and even more unpleasant to think about. At a particular bend, a heavy stench hit the nose, before the wind carried it into another direction. I asked R what it was. A mule had stumbled, fallen down and died, he said.

Both, K and I became increasingly anxious about D and finally shared our worries with each other: he could have taken someone with him, not fly alone – how would we know if he needed help of any sort……..? Somewhere near Bhojbhasa, we saw him as a distant blue speck and waved for him to wait. He did.

My husband and I had been slowed down due to my problems with altitude. And apart from that, we both wanted to savour each moment of the journey. So as not to exhaust ourselves, we took turns with walking and riding mules. We took frequent rest breaks, as and when we felt like our bodies needed it or a particular sight had to be transported into the soul’s memory forever.

I took as many photographs as possible, carefully composing them for my sister, to urge her to come while she could and for some others, who, most probably would not make it in this lifetime. I wanted to bring a bit of the Himalayas to them, for each one of them, personally.