When I talk about trekking in the Himalayas sometimes people ask me, “What is the point in walking or climbing aimlessly from one point to another, in rugged climate and terrain at that.” I was never able to answer that question. In fact, I gave in to the idea that it was pointless. During my recent trip to the Himalayas, I realized why I was lost for words. Even if I tried, it would be a futile exercise. To express what it feels like when I’m surrounded by the Himalayas is beyond language.

As I’m writing this, I’m perched on a rock overlooking a valley dotted with Himalayan Oak trees. Right below my feet, I can see dozens of sheep grazing and the adorable lambs bleating and calling their mothers’ attention with their heads pointing in my direction. A spider just drew a  silk thread from my arm to the book and crawled into my book and sat there as if it is its rightful place. It is quite nippy and by the same token, the sun is shining bright, spreading some warmth and happiness. And now the spider made its way into my unkempt hair and I lost sight of it and I know I will not see the spider again. It probably fainted in my hair, for I have not washed my hair for ages.

I have not seen a mirror in days and I’m always in my ranger hat hair. The perfume I’m wearing is Himalayan Oak firewood smoke. I don’t know what I look like anymore and I don’t care either. I feel beautiful from deep within. I’m not afraid or worried about anything, not even Leon Cavallo, the horse, I so dread to ride. The music I  hear is the chimes of mules’ bells, bees buzzing, sheep bleating, wind whispering, and ravens and Lammergeier calling. Only happy thoughts cross my mind.  I barely think of the life I live back home because when I stand in the middle of the heroic mountains and then look down at myself I find everything irrelevant and insignificant.

In my free time after treks, I usually find myself a sunny spot and lie under the blue sky and gape at the clouds form and unform mysterious shapes. Without my knowledge and without any other thoughts interrupting my imagination of the shapes, I indulge in this activity for long.  And at the end of the session, I wake up realising that I was in a transcendental state and I attained it effortlessly. Sometimes I even struggle to bring my natural thoughts back.

Here I feel as free as the wind and as wild as the mountains themselves. I guess they just rub it off on everyone surrounded by their presence. I’m always high on the mountains and this is definitely my favourite high.

 

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