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 9^th or 10^th 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 9^th or 10^th 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.

I still resonate with the feelings I had that day and crave to go back. The Himalayas are a home to my soul.