Tears of Mirth
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Monday, June 17, 2024
ASSUME
Tuesday, June 4, 2024
Life felt worthwhile...
Wednesday, August 10, 2022
I could have jumped off
In that moment, I really thought I would jump off the cliff. The only thing in my sight then was the stream of river flowing deep down surrounded by the vast Himalayas, rolling stones at distances, some unfamiliar trees and my feet, half in the air with heels grounded steadily onto the fragile edge of a cliff. The air was thin and pricking cold but my heart felt warm. Yes, this was real. I was not sad or depressed nor did I possess any other kind of negative emotion in that moment. What I did feel, however, was a strange calmness that enveloped me in a way that I wanted nothing more out of life. I had not realised when I walked so close to the edge and was very happily willing to jump off to feel the pull of gravity and some resistance coming from the air pressure that rises up from the valley.
The Himalayas do that to you.
This was close to the end of my 12-day trek to the Everest Base Camp.
Don’t remember distinctly, but it must have been the 9th or 10th
day. The descend had begun and we were gaining oxygen levels as we kept losing
altitude. It felt better each passing hour. The difference in the ease with
which we breath was noticeable. The days that had gone by, had made me realise
one thing for sure that when you walk alone in a terrain like that, it builds
you to last forever – physically as well as emotionally. The journey thus far
was a crazy roller-coaster with days when I was super happy and days when I
cried gallons. Some days I walked relatively well while on some days I fell on
the ground as my legs gave up the strength. At such times, the mind plays very
dirty.
The day I crossed the wind-valley between Pheriche (4243 mtrs or 13,920
ft) and reached Dughla/Thukla (4620 mtrs or 15,157 ft), I was down with migraine and my
leg was swollen like a log of soft wood. I was forced to rest while my fellow
trekkers walked ahead leaving me and my porter behind. The next day we walked
to a sunnier spot and rested throughout the day basking in the sun. That was
the only way to heal in that cold dry climate. The day after that, me and my porter
decided to move to the next halt and I asked him to go ahead with the bag as I
felt rather confident to walk that distance. He instructed me about the path
and assured me that there is no divergence on the route for that day.
Walking all alone in the Himalayas at that altitude where you see no
life in form of any insects, birds or animals baring the occasional visits of
the grazing yaks; humbled me and liberated me simultaneously. Throughout the
day, I could hear only three distinct sounds, the wind gushing, my footsteps
and my heavy breathing. Absolutely nothing else. But to be honest, I thanked
God for all the pain I had endured and the loneliness I experienced because it
resulted in me freeing from my own shackles and opening up to the best healer,
mother nature. I found myself the way I did not know ever.
After all such experiences, there I was on the 9th or 10th
day while descending. The day was bright and as we lost altitude, some forestation
had returned and so did some birds. It was beautiful indeed. On a sharp hairpin
bend on the path downward, I stopped for a few minutes to breath and rest. As I
stood there admiring the beauty of that place, I noticed the river underneath flowing
between two magnanimous mountains. All of a sudden, I started to feel very light,
as if I had no weight on me at all. My backpack was non-existent then and my
body knew no pain. There was some divine calmness that had covered me up in
itself. I wasn’t even feeling cold at all and in that moment, I felt myself
being pulled into the engulfing air that was rising up from the valley beneath.
Standing on the edge of the cliff I was about to simply leave myself to nature
and pass. In my mind I had already reached halfway down the cliff.
Just then, my senses returned to notice that I was standing on the edge
with half my feet hanging in the air.
I could have jumped off the cliff, of course unknowingly. But I didn’t.
On realising what just happened, I wanted to retrace and finish my day’s
climb as soon as I could. The struggle that time was to take a step back. Not
because I was into any trance by then, but because I was so close to the edge
that even if I took a hasty step backward, I could have fallen into the valley
and never returned. That scared me a bit, but I slowly dragged myself back and
climbed down safely.
Monday, October 4, 2021
Pain - The best teacher
How many times in life do we really get to know
ourselves deeply? We are social animals and meet several new people in our
daily life. It is said that on an average, even an introvert interacts with at
least one unknown person daily. In this complex and highly social world, we
easily forget to meet ourselves, not realizing the importance for it. Not
willingly, but I met myself very closely one day and almost refused to
recognize this inner being.
It was end of April 2016, a cold day with harsh
winds blowing in the upper Khumbu region of the Himalayas. I woke up tired and unwilling to go anywhere because
the past few days’ fatigue from trekking had made my legs sore. However, we had
targeted reaching the Everest Base Camp in 7 days. So, we begun, though half-heartedly.
As we begun ascending, the pain increased with every
15-20 meters. Not much elevation was achieved by noon and I needed to speed-up
to reach the next halt by end of day. I walked alone for long as my team, guide
and porter were far ahead. The route for Everest Base Camp from Lukla is rather
simple, with only 2 diversions on the way. If you are aware of those, one can
easily walk alone in the region harmlessly. I decided to take my time and pace
it out slow. The silence of the Himalayas is rather too loud and I could hear
my soul screaming of pain – physical as well as mental. I fell on my knees not
wanting to go anywhere and cried. Never had I found myself so demotivated and
ready to give-up all that was achieved thus far. I dragged myself to a nearby
village and decided to halt there. My legs were in excruciating pain.
That night, I was shaken not because of the
pain that I couldn’t tolerate but because I didn’t recognize the part of me who
would give-up. Usually, I am stubborn and would sail through anything on the
back of my unmatched determination. But that day, I had succumbed to the perils
and lost all courage to get back up. I spent the evening dipping my legs in
warm salt water and sipping on some khukri (a local rum in Nepal), to keep me
as warm as it could. The temperature outside was about minus 3 degrees Celsius,
something I hadn’t dealt with earlier. To add to that, the home stays along the
entire Khumbu region do not have heaters. So, you are expected to make peace with
the cold.
Next morning, when I woke up, the house keeper,
a middle-aged native lady dressed in a large yak wool cloak, served me a cup of
steaming Himalayan lemon tea with some boiled eggs and sat by my side holding
my hand. She said ‘this game isn’t about physical strength but emotional
strength that gets you through the toughest terrain.’ Tears rolled down my eyes
because I realized that my defeat last evening was not about the pain but I
surrendered mentally. That wasn’t the real me. Couldn’t have been. I finished
my tea, took a few deep breaths and assured myself of never giving-up because
pain comes only to make us stronger. It is a difficult exam, once passed you do
not have to reappear. I started my onward journey that day with much more
determination. The pain had started to fade away gradually, mostly because my
muscles and tissues were becoming numb from the cold. There’s only so much you
can feel, beyond which there is blissful numbness.
On my remaining journey to the Everest Base Camp, I fell sick once again, much worse than this pain in the legs and was bed-ridden for a day, forced to stay lied down in the sun room so that the heat from the metal roof getting baked in the sun could heal me. But I walked the next day alone to catch up with fellow trekkers and that journey made me fall in love with walking solo. I met myself and loved this human so much. I loved the vulnerabilities and strength it derived from each situation. For the first time, I fell in love with myself, truly.