Har-Ki-Dun: The Hypnotizing Wonderland

Trekking the Himalayas for the Third Time in a year…

It was the month of April, my favorite month of the year. The reasons are many – because it’s spring; because it’s my birth month; because it was in this month that I had fallen for the mountains all over again.

This was that time of the year when I had a promise to keep, a promise I have made to myself the year before about spending my birthdays with nature and experiencing its supreme splendor– the only thing that gives me utmost joy and happiness. With a corner of my heart now permanently occupied by the majestic Himalayas, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

This time I was off to explore Har-Ki-Dun. Also known as Valley of Gods, Har-Ki-Dun is a cradle shaped valley and the legends of this trail go back to the Mahabharata*. It is said that the Pandavas had taken this very route on their way to heaven after the great war of Kurukshetra. The trek goes right up to Swargarohini, the peak which is supposedly the pathway to heaven.

* The Mahabharata is an ancient Indian epic poem revolving around Pandavas and Kauravas, the two branches of a family who fight the Kurukshetra War for the throne of Hastinapura. The Mahabharata includes Bhagavad Gita and with 100,000 verses it is the longest epic poem ever written. (Read More)

I was once again trekking with Indiahikes. This time, my sister was accompanying me. All geared up for yet another extraordinary experience, we arrived at Sankri. I was back to this tiny little beautiful village situated in the lap of the Himalayas exactly after one year. Last time I was here during my trek to Kedarkantha Peak.

Crossing the Nallahs on way to Taluka

After spending a night at Sankri, the group of 20 of us boarded two Boleros to go to Taluka, situated 12 Km away from Sankri. The entire route with lush green valleys, hanging cliffs, forests with tall tree all around, sporadic waterfalls here and there was simply spellbinding. The broken road passing through these waterfalls kind of interrupts their flow leading them to convert into streams before continuing their fall on the other side of the road. These streams are known as nullahs by the locals. As we crossed the nullahs, our Boleros tossed and jerked with the cliff on one side and a vertical fall on the other. Those were moments of additional excitement laced with a tad bit of nervousness for many of us – the city-bred delicate darlings!

Camping Beside the River at Puani Garaat

From Taluka, we started our trek alongside River Tamosa. The bright crystal clear turquoise water of Tamosa lifted my spirits the moment I laid my eyes on her. Tamosa was to be our constant companion flowing, dribbling, and swerving through the trees and hills while glistening and smoothing the already shining rocks and boulders. The flowing water seemed to be in constant hurry and always playing hide and seek with us, disappearing sometimes only to reappear again.

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Pic 1: River Tamosa meandering across the lush green landscape

We had walked beside the river for close to 6 hours maneuvering countless twists and turns alongside a constant interplay of light and shade caused by green forests of tall Chestnut, Pine, Walnut, Cedar, Oak, and others. Finally, we arrived at our first camp site, Puani Garaat. The exhaustion from the 13 Km. walk disappeared the moment I saw our tents pitched in a tiny little clearing right beside the river. The constant sound of gushing river radiated an energy that was highly contagious touching the soul and soothing the mind. It was not the least monotonous as one might presume. The sound of the river magnified at night but its rhythm served as the perfect lullaby as we drifted into a deep sleep.

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Pic 2: River Tamosa dazzling with the early morning sunlight.
Charming Osla Village on way to Kalkatiyadhar

The trek route passes through a couple of ancient villages, most noteworthy being Gangaad, Osla, and Seema. These tiny villages left us bewildered with their remoteness and exclusivity. As we passed by Osla village, the wooden homes of the village arranged haphazardly on the mountain slope captured our imagination. Seeing our enthusiasm, our trek leader suggested that we could stay at the village on our way back. And, that we did leading to an experience of a lifetime. [I’ve described that in a separate post.]

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Pic 3: The village of Osla with River Tamosa flowing below

It was the second day and we covered the 7 Km. trail through some level walks, few steep sections, and finally a continuous ascent through a gradually increasing incline. As we approached Kalkatiyadhar, the stunning views of the Bandarpooch and Pir Panjal ranges of mountain was just what we needed to sooth our tired mind and body. The magnificent Kalanag or Black Peak was also clearly visible just before arriving at this campsite.

Kedarkantha peak also provided a brief glimpse somewhere in this route. As dusk approached, Kalkatiyadhar displayed a dramatic sequence of changing colours with the sun painting the sky in myriad hues of bright oranges and yellows as it slowly departed for the day and set behind the horizon. (I miss having a camera at such times! A phone camera is largely insufficient.)

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Pic 4: Just before reaching Kalkatiyadhar, Kalanag can be seen in the backdrop
Getting Closer to Our Destination – Har-Ki-Dun

The entire trekking route had multiple steams, some we crossed directly by jumping over boulders and stones while some others through rickety wooden bridges. Besides the streams, on this day we encountered two fascinating waterfall as well. One cascaded in a narrow single flow with a great force and from a great height, the other was mildly spread across falling from a much lesser height. The latter enticed us and we waded across the stream to go right upto it, washed our faces and even filled in our water bottles.

Once again, passing through a forest dominated by pine trees with a sizable number of rhododendron trees we ascended and descended, walked through some flat land, and crossed some narrow ridges with a valley on one side and a cliff on the other. As we passed by a bend in the mountain, Har-Ki-Dun peak and Hata Peak made their grand appearance inducing a dose of instant happiness and delight.

The entire route, right from Taluka was as picturesque as can be. It truly lives up to its name of Valley of Gods. The meadows and the mountainsides were sprinkled with colourful spring flowers of varying shades though yellows, pinks, blues, and violets dominated. Not to forget the pink and white rhododendrons that illuminated portions of the forests.

Once in a while shepherds with their flock of sheep or mules would appear bringing in a sudden pause to our walking rhythm as we let them pass. Women of all age groups in their traditional attire and ethic jewellery from the villages would appear every now and then – some of them collecting wood, some on their way to Taluka, smiling and greeting everyone on their way. Sometimes giggling young girls and playful children would merrily pass by making us envious of their carefree demeanor.

Unveiling of the Scintillating Wonderland:Har-ki-Dun

We walked for about 5 hours and arrived at a steep incline. It was tiring in the hot afternoon sun as we inched along. The thought that this was the last climb for the day kept us going. As we approached Har-Ki-Dun at an altitude of 11,500 ft, it was a moment of disbelieve. The phenomenal valley was like an amphitheater and revealed itself bit by bit before my eyes. I felt that I was stepping into a wonderland. Was this real? Am I in a dream? Valley of Gods it indeed is! If there’s a place where Gods live, this has to be it.

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Pic 11: Har-Ki-Dun Valley as we first laid our eyes on it

The soothing sound of the rippling Har-Ki-Dun River with a patch of green on either side strewn with rocks and boulders that effortlessly blended into tall mountains all around was a sight to behold. On one side of the river stood tall jagged bare mountains adorning various shades of green, grey and brown with a rocky and stony surface. Their counterparts, on the other side, were elegantly dressed in a cloak of pristine white snow.

I stood there for a while drinking it all, trying to fathom all that lay in front of me. This was God’s perfect painting. I had seen such scenes only in calendars and posters. Words are failing me and I cannot do justice to that moment of picture perfect brilliance.

Spending my Birthday with the Mystical Swargarohini

While others went to their camps to rest and change, my sister and I had no patience for all that. We dumped our bags and rushed to the river bank to take off our shoes and dip our feet in the alluring river water. Fed by melting glaciers from the mountains, the water was very cold and we couldn’t keep our feet in there for long. It was around 1.00 PM in the afternoon and we had the entire afternoon and evening to ourselves. Moreover, we would be here the next day as well – a thought that made us ecstatic. We had enough time to explore the entire fairy tale like land. This was brilliant, I couldn’t have asked for more!

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Pic 12: The mystical Swargarohini

As we sat by the river facing the snow-clad mountains, for the first time we wondered which one of these was Swargarohini. It turned out that Swargarohini wasn’t right in front of us, rather up in the corner.  Swargarohini, covered off and on by clouds, did stand out as being starkly different from the other mountains and had a mystical charm to it. We walked ahead for a closer look. I could imagine the Pandavas and Draupadi walking up the peak and falling off one by one. Yudhishthira reaching the top with the dog behind him, a ladder dropping from the sky, and they climbing up to heaven.*

* The Pandavas were five brothers and Draupadi (also known as Panchali) was their common wife. After the war of Kurukshetra the Pandavas and Draupadi renounce the world and go to the Himalayas where they finally start ascending the Swargarohini peak towards heaven. A dog who had befriended the Pandavas during the journey also accompanies them. During the ascend, one by one everyone falls except the eldest of the five brothers, Yudhishthira and the dog, who are the only ones to go to heaven. (Read More)

This was my perfect birthday, my kind of happiness and joy. With that thought, my lips curled into a pleasurable smile. I did keep my promise!

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Pic 13: Few minutes of rest just before reaching Har-Ki-Dun

It was evening and I realized that I hadn’t seen my sister in a while. We were both sitting beside the river after lunch soaking in the afternoon sun. While I kept expressing my thoughts and feelings, she was relatively quiet. I then went off strolling around and was too busy taking in everything around to pay any attention to her. But now afternoon had given way to evening.

I walked back near the river looking for her and caught her sitting in the same place – all alone. I approached her only to find her weeping. Overwhelmed by the mountains, she felt very insignificant and small. This does happen to many people, so I wasn’t surprised. Her eyes were swollen and she just couldn’t stop the flow of tears rolling down her cheek. I sat beside her for a while and then let her be.

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Pic 14: How insignificant and tiny we are before the majestic Himalayas

The next morning we trekked 3 Km, up the mountain to visit Maninda Taal, which is situated behind the mountains. We were back by lunch time. After lunch, my sister and I took off once again voraciously absorbing all that we could of the valley on both sides of the river. We crossed over to the other side, walked till the edge of the valley, climbed up the mountain towards the forest rest house and visited the Shiva Lingam located in its premises, climbed up another mountain to get a better view of Swargarohini, interacted with other people we met, and so on.

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Pic 15: The Shiva Lingam with a glimpse of Swargarohini behind the mountain

The next day we woke up early while it was still dark, as we wanted to have some more time with the valley before leaving. Once again, we went for a walk while waiting for the Sun to rise.

Soon it was time to go. As I started to walk away, unknowingly I turned back for a last glance of the gorgeous breathtaking landscape. A feeling of gratitude took over as I felt fortunate for having had the opportunity to spend a few moments of my life on this slice of heaven on earth. My soul is blessed to have had Har-Ki-Dun charted in my destiny! With this thought, I happily turned away to trace my way back with precious memories etched in my heart and mind forever and ever….

A Few Addendums

  • Indiahikes, the group I trekked with, follows a principle of eco-friendly and sustainable trekking with minimum impact on the environment. They take several measures to make that happen, one of which is handing over an eco-bag to all trekkers. Any waste we generate while trekking goes into that bag. Not just that, if we find any litter on the trekking trail, we collect them onto these bags. On this trek, I had collected a lot of garbage and often went out of my way to do so. Indiahikes awarded a special certificate in recognition for this and, I was absolutely elated!
  • We bought Rhododendron Juice on our way back from Sankri, which was a huge hit with our friends and colleagues in Bangalore.
  • The gorgeous Tamosa river is formed near Osla by Har Ki Dun and Ruinsara Nallah. Flowing through Taluka, Tamosa merges with Supin River at Sankri. Supin river then joins with Rupin River to form Tons River at Netwar.
  • The valley houses rich Himalayan fauna, like Black bears, wild boars, Barasingha, Langoors, Golden eagles and massive Himalayan griffins. The colourful Himalayan monal, the state bird of Uttarakhand also thrives here. We weren’t lucky enough to spot any of these except the horses and cows grazing in the meadows. However, during the night at Kalkatiyadhar, we got to know of a mule calf being attacked and killed by a wild animal possibly a leopard.

The Calm and Composed Maninda Taal

Its Silvery Serenity was Beyond all Imagination…

A bright and sunny day with sapphire blue skies stretching right through to the horizon is what greeted us that morning. There wasn’t a single cloud in sight. It was spring time in the month of April, hence no surprise. We were camping at the gorgeous Har-ki-Dun valley where we had arrived the day before. The more I talk about this heavenly place, the less it is. For now, I am parking that for another post.

Having an entire day in this valley, gave us the opportunity to hike up further beyond and see a lake called Maninda Taal hidden behind the mountains. Taal refers to lake in the local language. The night before at dinner we had a discussion on the two places that we might want to visit that day – Maninda Taal, located around 3 km from the campsite and Juandhar Glacier at around 10 km from camp site. Most of the votes went for the lake. I wasn’t sure, as I wanted to go to both but on enquiring got to know that wasn’t a possibility.

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Pic 1: As we climbed up there were patches of snow and the mountains appeared really close

It was still early in the morning when we started walking up the mountain. It was a steep climb through a loose muddy trail with sparing vegetation. As we neared the top, the gorgeous snow-hooded mountains spearing up to the sky surrounding the valley appeared unusually close. They seemed to be gazing at us scrutinizing each and every move we made. A little ahead, we came upon a place that was covered with fresh snow. The blanket of white seemed unending in every direction and this continued for the rest of the trail with no sight of animals or plants.

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Pic 2: The snow fights had started

The snow fights (throwing snowballs at each other) had already started and it intensified along the way and all hell broke loose when we took a bend and landed onto a mound of snow. This mound was created by an avalanche that must have taken place in the recent past. I for one hadn’t seen such heaps of snow before. It reminded me about those calendar pictures of *Shiva and Parvati sitting in a cloud of snow with Ganesha on their lap.

*Shiva, Parvati, and Ganesha are Hindu deities, Parvati is Shiva’s wife and Ganesha their son with the head of a elephant (Read More).

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Pic 3: The mound of snow caused by a recent avalanche.

Everyone was engrossed with snow fights and unconsciously divided ourselves into two teams. We had to reign in ourselves by reminding that the lake was our destination and not the snow fights. We walked across the knee deep snow for some more time while the strong mountain sun continued blazing above us.

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Pic 4: We continued walking through knee deep snow.
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Pic 5: I just love this pic!

Finally, the lake was in sight! And, what a spectacular moment that was! I could feel utter joy surging up my heart. The silvery shining water of the lake lay still with occasional small ripples as though surprised to see the sudden curious onlookers.  The gravity of the greyish-blue water was sending out invisible rays of energy that was gently piercing my heart filling me with contentment and happiness. The snow-draped mountains around the lake seemed to understand my feelings and I felt they were graciously smiling with acknowledgement. As my eyes dropped to the water for a deeper look, I noticed how divine and sparklingly clean it was. I was compelled to bend down and feel the water with my bare hands.

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Pic 6: The calm and composed lake

As I looked up from my cupped hands, my gaze moved a little beyond and fell upon the tall wall of a mountain that appeared to be on one corner of the lake. I could see our trek guide sliding down the snow from the top. How did he reach there! This was an adrenalin rush and I knew I had to go there too.

After spending a few more moments beside the lake and capturing some of it through my mobile lens, I started walking toward the tall grand mountain wall that seemed to be eagerly reaching out for the heavens above. A few people joined in. My sister, who was on this trek with me, also came along. Going over to the tall mountain wasn’t all easy as the snow was really deep. It was only with help and support from my fellow trekkers that I could make it there.

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Pic 7: Walking up the mountain wall only to slide down

We walked up the mountain wall and then sitting on our water proof jackets, using them as props did a slide down. And, oh what fun that was! Some of us repeated the act several times as we slid individually and slid in small groups together with others. We captured videos for one another, clicked photos, and laughed our hearts out!

After all the fun and laughter, it was time to go. Bidding goodbye to the charming lake that exuded such elegance and grace was not easy. I felt I could just keep staring at her for the rest of my life.

Maninda Taal, I remember you with fond memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Lots of love to you…..

Imagination

Magical Christmas at Kuari Pass!

When the Himalayas came calling again…

A corner of my mind and heart now stand permanently reserved for the enchanting Himalayas after my first rendezvous with the majestic snow-clad magnificence.

I was back from Kedarkanta Trek with millions of tales to tell and I’ve been told a couple of times that each time I reminisce the Himalayas my face lights up and my eyes sparkle – a comment that doesn’t fail to amuse me!

I had deliberately planned the next trek during the Christmas week in the month of December. This was to be my second Himalayan trek in the year 2016. This time my friend, Papia, was joining me and I was delighted. Papia always nurtured a sincere desire to trek the Himalayas but felt she couldn’t and it took me quite an effort to convince her. Once convinced, there was no looking back and she plunged wholeheartedly into it. She even got her brother’s family and two other people with her. A colleague of mine also joined in. So, this time we were a big gang of 7 people from Bangalore.

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Pic 1: The gang of 7 delighted with the crystal clear water of mother Ganges, which is sharply contrasting to how  we have seen her in the cities of the plains.

Thoroughly satisfied with my previous experience, I once again decided to trek with IndiaHikes (a trekking community). We had chosen Har-ki-Dun and it was the prospect of walking in snow that excited many in our group. While we were busy planning Har-ki-Dun, destiny had something else in store for us.  Just a fortnight before the trek, we got to know Har-ki-Dun was cancelled as the government had decided not to allow winter trekking in the area. IndiaHikes gave us the option of taking our money back or trek Kuari Pass instead. We chose the latter as we already had booked our tickets to Dehradun. I for one, was totally disheartened and my enthusiasm subsided considerably. The reason being Kuari Pass wasn’t rated amongst the top 10 Himalayan treks by IndiaHikes. Well, the saying ‘whatever happens is always for the best’ revealed itself later during the trek.

This time, we traveled to Joshimath from Dehradun. Needless to say this was yet another journey that is etched in our memories forever. As we passed through the ‘Panch Prayag’ (Vishnuprayag, Nandaprayag, Karnaprayag, Rudraprayag, and Devprayag) one by one with Mother Ganges in all her glory for constant company, it was a journey through paradise. By the time we reached Joshimath, dusk had set in. However, even after travelling for 12 hours on road there was no exhaustion whatsoever.

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Pic 2: Confluence of Alaknanda and Bhagirathi rivers at Devprayag – notice the distinctive colours, while Alaknanda is greyish, Bhagirathi is dark greenish

The following day, a 45 min drive took us to Auli, considered as one of the best ski destinations in India. The season’s snowfall hadn’t happened and Auli bore a barren look much to the disappointment of many in our group. After all, it was late December and Christmas Eve for heaven’s sake! We climbed the Auli slope for a little more than 2 hours. The rugged mountains in the background with glimpses of snow gave us some respite from the barren slopes and noisy tourists.

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Pic 3: As we climbed the barren slopes of Auli

As we left the slopes and moved higher, Mount Nanda Devi made a brief and grandiose appearance bringing in the much needed excitement to all of us. Very soon the much awaited Oak forest greeted us. The interplay of sun and shade, the ground strewn with fallen leaves, and the gradual climb made for a mesmerizing walk that I will cherish for the rest of my life. In a tiny clearing at the edge of the woods is ‘Padiyar Devta’ temple. The serene and tranquil temple seemed to be in perfect harmony with the calmness and silence of the surrounding woods.

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Pic 4: The forest floor strewn with dry leaves
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Pic 5: Padiyar Devta temple – locals believe the deity protects wildlife in the jungle

We reached Gorson Bugyal, our camp site for Day 1. The group of 18 odd people from various walks of life were slowly getting to know each other – a bunch of young scientists from ISRO, an ophthalmologist from AIIMS, an executive from a well-known MNC, the tech engineer duo, entrepreneur couples, instructional designers, and last but not the least a computer scientist with degrees from top-tier institutions across the world, who quit his high-flying career to be with the Himalayas.

An acclimatization walk in the afternoon followed by an abundance of ghost stories around a bon fire marked the other highlights of Day-1. The temperatures dropped as we retired for the night amidst a bright and twinkling sky with millions of shining stars. Our wishes for snowfall intensified and someone even sent out a fervent prayer to the universe. We hoped for a miracle as the weather prediction didn’t mention snow for the next one week.

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Pic 6: Gorson Bugyal with our tents in the background

And miracle did happen…..

All night long we thought we heard rain drops splattering across our tents. It was cold and the thought of rain was enough to dampen our spirits. Just before dawn, Papia put on her headlamp and opened the tent to inspect the rain…..and she squealed out in joy as all she saw was white flakes all around. It was the season’s first snowfall and it was Christmas morning. What could be more magical than this! We felt we were nature’s chosen ones and this was special. It was Papia’s first experience of snow as was for most others in the group.

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Pic 7: The first sight of snow at dawn as a tent is lit up from inside by a headlamp
(PC: Soumik Sarkar)
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Pic 8: The snow-covered Gorson Bugyal looked completely different

It snowed intermittently as we walked making for a very special Christmas Day, Day-2 of our trek.  It was a cloudy day for most part. The sun did make brief appearances during the morning half but it lacked the usual warmth. It was freezing and the cold seemed to seep in through our skin. The snow mountains peeked through the clouds once in a while allowing us glimpses of Haati-Ghoda and Dronagiri. The twin peaks of Haati-ghoda had become our constant companion right from the time we had spotted them for the first time on our way to Joshimath. The setting sun had painted them a bright orange that had stolen our hearts in an instant.

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Pic 9: Taking a break while admiring the peaks that surrounded us

Walking right ahead with those at the beginning of our group, we approached the ridge, which was an adrenalin rush for many but not for me. My heart froze as I saw the narrow trail with the almost vertical cliff on one side and the deep valley on the other.  Khusiji, our guide, offered a hand and I covered the entire 1.5 Km clinging onto him. I couldn’t concentrate much on the mind-blowingly beautiful stretch with shades of green, brown, yellow, black. It had started to snow once again while we were midway onto the stretch, which intensified as we were towards the end. At the end of this stretch, I sent out a small prayer of gratitude to the Almighty for enabling me to cross over to the other side safe and sound. Simultaneously, my mind raced to Papia and the rest of my gang who were trailing behind wondering how they were faring. It was not until later that night I got to know it was just as challenging for them as well.

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Pic 10: The narrow ridge that scared the hell out of me!

Passing through the gorgeous Tali lake that was half frozen, we entered the fascinating Oak woods once again. This time, it was even more magical as the entire place was covered with snow. It was a surreal feeling of fantasy as I could imagine Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer passing by with Santa’s sleigh and leaving behind an illuminated trail for us to follow. My joyful mind quietly hummed the Christmas Carol (Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer…..) and I felt I could hear the jingling bells all around me.

As the temperatures dropped further, we reached Chithrakantha camp site, situated in the heart of the forest. It had gotten extremely cold and I have to admit that we were feeling miserable despite the layers of warm clothes we had on. Some sat around a fire while others wouldn’t step out of their tents. I felt my blood was freezing and was in no mood to even talk to anybody – a behavior alien to the otherwise exuberant me.   We retired for the night apprehensive about the weather next day and wondered how deep the snow might be higher up where we would trek the following day. The sleeping bags kept us warm and cozy but we couldn’t sleep well, which was for the unevenness of the ground rather than the cold.

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Pic 11: The snowfall had intensified as we crossed Tali lake (PC: Padmanava Sen)
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Pic 12: We camped in the middle of the enchanting snow-covered oak forest  (PC: Soumik Sarkar)

It was Day-3, the summit day and we had started early. The Mountain Gods had smiled and a bright and sunny day greeted us, which lifted our spirits considerably. There was sparkling snow all around us and we couldn’t be happier.  The terrain constituted several steep ascents and steep descents. The snow peaks glistened at the distance and their elegance and splendor kept multiplying with every ascent. Once again, it was Haati-Ghoda and Dronagiri along with the spectacular Neelkanth that were most prominent peaks accompanying us all the way.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing for me and Day-3 felt tough especially the stretches of steep ascents. Despite that, I was thoroughly enjoying myself and the good weather had a lot to do with that. I was intermittently sending my gratitude to the Mountains for giving me this opportunity to experience their supreme splendor.

Passing through Chitrakantha top with a panoramic 360 degree view we arrived at a ridge with gradual slopes. Here, the strong winds threatened to throw us off and we struggled to maintain our balance.

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Pic 13: Clear skies and sparkling snow with Haati-Ghoda as constant companions
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Pic 14: Strong winds sweeping off snow atop the majestic Haati-Ghoda
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Pic 15: As we approached the ridge where the strong winds almost threw us off balance

Passing through a part of the legendary ‘Lord Curzon’s Trail’ we reached the breathtaking frozen waterfall. Precariously we made our way down through the sides of the waterfall with crampons attached to our shoes that provided the much needed additional grip.

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Pic 16: The frozen waterfall – notice the people climbing down through the side

Finally, we reached Kuari Pass! We were overwhelmed at 12,516 ft and each one of us rejoiced in our own way. While some of us preferred to sit in complete silence, others got busy clicking selfies and freezing the moment forever through their lenses.

As I sat there absorbing every bit of the surrounding gorgeousness, my mind ran to Papia and I wished we could enjoy this moment together. Papia, along with a few others had opted out of the summit and had instead descended to Khullara, our next camp, where I would meet her later that day. The miserably chilling conditions of Day-2 drove them towards this decision.

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Pic 17: As we trudged along nearing Kuari Pass  (PC: Soumik Sarkar)
Kuari Pass - Neelaanjana Paul - At the summit with a wee bit of snow on my shoes as a testimonial to the snow-laden path we just traversed
Pic 18: A moment at Kuari Pass – a wee bit of snow stuck on adamantly to my shoe

With the summit over, we retraced our path and proceeded towards Khullara. While most of the people moved ahead, a group of five of us decided to take it slow as we rested, chatted, clicked pictures, and made the most of our descent towards Khullara.

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Pic 19: Descending towards Khullara as another amazing day was coming to an end
(PC: Padmanava Sen)

Khullara was the most beautiful campsite of this trek. It was a small clearing, surrounded by forest slopes and mountain ranges. The brilliant sunsets and sunrises we witnessed here across Neelkanth, haati Ghoda, Dronagriri and other peaks was a feast for the eyes. People who chose not to go to the summit ended up having a wonderful time exploring Khullara and it was not a bad bargain after all.

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Pic 20: The sky at dusk – twilight is astounding in the mountains
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Pic 21: Neelkanth glowing with the first rays of the sun (PC: Soumik Sarkar)

Starting early the next day, we commenced our journey towards Joshimath through the Tapovan valley. During the onward journey as always, I was way ahead with the group of people who were always at the beginning. On the return journey, I chose to go slow, stay behind and relish each and every moment. Who knows when I’ll be back again!

Another fantastic trail of about 9 Km awaited us as we pass through forests partially covered in snow with steep descends in some places, overlooking the snow-mountains all along. Towards the end of the trail we passed through a cluster of hamlets that provided a glimpse of the lives of the local people. As we passed through one such village, someone remarked “How lucky are these people to wake up to such a view of the Himalayas everyday!” It took us a good 60-70 minutes from the village to the nearest motorable road. Joshimath was a 45 minute drive from here. Are the village people really all that lucky? And to think that they don’t have a hospital.

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Pic 22: Descending towards Tapovan through the steep forest slopes
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Pic 23: A village viewed from a distance

My second Himalayan trek had come to an end. Captivated and spellbound I was once again. Additionally, this time two realizations dawned upon me. First, a Himalayan trek is about feelings and experiences that are beyond all words.  You have to go there to know what I mean. Second, the belief that our desire and intention is nothing before the mighty Himalayas (and perhaps all other mountains). The mountains decide what they want you to experience. If the mountains concede, only then you get to set foot on them to experience their majestic grandeur and I bow in reverence.

 

 

The Story of Osla

It was a bright sunny April afternoon when we were on our way towards Har ki Dun, walking alongside river Tamosa. As we took a turn in the valley our gaze instantaneously fell upon a bunch of beautiful wooden houses on the mountain slopes. The haphazardly arranged houses almost appeared to be rolling down the mountainside in some form of a disarrayed haste. This was Osla!

Awestruck we were by this neat little village tucked far away in the Himalayas. We took a spontaneous decision to visit the village on our way back with the help of our guide, who had friends and relatives in the village.

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Haphazardly arranged homes on the mountain slope and river Tamosa that flows below.

Situated in Uttarakhand, in Western Himalayas, every little thing about this quaint little village intrigued us – the city dwellers.  Stuck in some bygone age, this unfrequented and relatively unseen village has millions of stories to tell.  As we set foot into the village through the narrow pathway lined with randomly arranged stones on one side and a mountain slope on the other, we noticed the place was dotted with apple trees all over. Just a few meters and the narrow pathway ended at the village temple.

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The wooden village temple as seen while entering the village, a view from the back.

Beyond this there was no clearly defined pathway.  Dedicated to ‘Someshwar Devta’, the unique wooden temple has a charm of its own.  The area around the temple appeared to be some sort of a village square. Young men were idling around, smoking ‘beedis’ while playing cards without a care in the world, children with cheeks as red as cherries chased one another as they ran around unmindful of the dust all around.  Some people say the temple used to worship Duryodhana*, who was a well-loved king in the region but the villagers deny this.

*An important character in the Hindu epic Mahabharata, whose desire and ego blinded him leading to the famous war of Kurukshetra.

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The temple as viewed from the front.

The beautiful wooden homes that had caught our attention earlier had roofs made of flat stones that were apparently procured from some faraway place. The stones provided the much needed protection during the harsh winter months. With wood appearing to be the primary source of firewood, furniture and construction, a rapid discussion on deforestation ensued between us, the cognizant city dwellers, only to die down quickly as our focus was on the villagers and their lives.

The indigenous people of the village stole our hearts in an instant with their hospitality, innocence and simplicity. Untouched by the vices of the modern world, the love and respect they showered on us was overwhelming, something we can never experience in the cities. Almost everyone we met invited us for tea or dinner. A young girl, Shamita insisted we go to her home for a cup of tea and we had to oblige.  The teenagers, Kashmina and Krishna weren’t tired of showing us around the village. They even got their best clothes to dress up my sister in their traditional attire – something that the whole village gathered to see and which they found profoundly amusing.

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The villagers dress my sister in their traditional wear.
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She poses with Kasmina (right) and Krishna (left). Notice the flat stones that make up the roof of the homes.

The concept of community living and the self-sufficient people truly appealed to us. There were villagers who were spinning yarn from sheep wool. The sheep is again reared by themselves and they use the yarn to weave their own warm jackets.  They proudly announce that their wool is priceless and cannot be found anywhere in the world – a claim that perhaps cannot be denied.   We notice that almost everyone in the village was busy doing something or the other, not many are seen idling time away. We were amused to see a lady stomping her feet in a large wooden basin that had clothes and water. That’s a community laundry where everyone goes to wash heavy clothes like blankets. Also, we were astounded to find children barely 7-8 year old busily washing clothes in the only tap in the village. Tap would be a wrong usage, it was rather a pipe through which water flows out constantly into Tamosa.

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Villagers spinning yarn from sheep wool.
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The yarn is processed further and colored with organic dye.

There is just one tiny little shop in the village which sells a few packets of chips, toffees, and potatoes. There is no grocery, no vegetables. The hard working villagers cultivate and grow their own rice, rajma, and potatoes. These constitute their staple food. Besides, some thorny leaves, bushes, and roots gathered from in and around also constitute a part of their food. There is no concept of storing these items, they are simply plucked as and when required. Cows, sheep, and mules constitute their livestock – cows for milk, sheep for wool, and mules to ferry things from outside. The mules also cater to trekkers like us to carry necessities like food, tents, etc. and in some cases carry our bags as well, enabling us to walk light.

A typical well-to-do home constitutes three floors – upper floor for people, middle one for sheep, and the lowest one for cows. Mules stay outside. Upper floor typically has three rooms alongside a long balcony overlooking the snow-clad mountains. The rooms are minimalistic having only cotton mattresses and quilts. Most of the homes however are smaller, constituting of just one room that serves as the bedroom, kitchen, living room, and everything else.

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A typical well-to-do home with three floors. Notice the apple trees on the side.
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An ordinary home that has just one room.

The tough life of the villagers brought tears to our eyes. The village has no network and hence no phones, Internet is out of question. There are no toilets, no roads, no electricity. A few homes do have solar panels that provide some basic not so bright lighting. Young girls barely 12-13 year olds carry a minimum of 20 Kgs of firewood regularly from the forests and walk 11-12 Km with that load.

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An old woman carries firewood and she must have walked 11-22 Km or more with that load.

In spite of such adversities, the village folks wore a happy smile complementing their unparalleled hospitality. As we bid goodbye the next day, they packed rajma for us in keeping with their tradition of not sending off visitors empty-handed. With an experience of a lifetime we left Osla.

It is incredulous to think that even after 70 years of independence, such remote and backward villages still exist in India. This is strikingly contrasting to the digital India and smart cities that we are supposedly moving towards.

There is a primary school but children are uneducated as the teacher is always drunk. A few children have the good fortune of being educated in other villages or in cities but mostly can’t afford the cost. In some families, especially those with several children get only one or two of their children educated while the rest remain in the village either because the parents cannot afford to educate them or they are needed to run the chores of the home. Amidst all of this, we happened to meet a young man who was completing his Masters in Botany at Dehradun and who had come home during the holidays. This was so refreshing and hopeful indeed!

The worst part is the village has no clinic or dispensary. The nearest medical help is 27 Km away. With no roads, seriously ill patients are tied to a chair that is then carried by four people, who walk 16 Km to reach ‘Taluka’, where they get transport and then drive another 11 Km, and that’s the nearest medical help.

We are back to our comfortable city lives with precious memories of Osla etched in our minds forever. However, each time we remember the lovely time we spent at the village it is accompanied by pangs of guilt as our mind does a spontaneous inadvertent comparison of our comfortable lives with the difficult lives of the villagers. The innocent villagers continue their daily struggle relatively oblivious to all the amenities of modern living.

Note: I am not quite sure I have been able to express myself well enough to do justice to the wonderful experience we had in the beautiful village of Osla. Hence, sharing a few more pictures below with the hope that you might be able to relate to our surreal experience at the village. (All pics are clicked through phone and are unedited raw photos.)

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Pic 1: A patch of green encountered just upon setting foot onto the village.
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Pic 2: A lady busy weaving at her home with several apple trees in her yard.
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Pic 3: Not quite sure about the purpose of these houses, probably a storehouse for wooden planks.
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Pic 4: Beautiful jewelry and rich deep wrinkles that must be harboring millions of wonderful tales!
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Pic 5: There’s just one or two such community taps rather pipes through which water flows out constantly.
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Pic 6: The wooden basin for washing clothes, the community laundry area, where clothes are washed by feet stomping.
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Pic 7: A wooden stairway leading to the upper floor of a 3-storied house.
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Pic 8: The balcony overlooking snow-clad mountains, a view that I could die for!
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Pic 9: There is no proper pathway as you go around the village. It’s like an obstacle course as you pass by somebody’s yard, jump over a pile of stones, walk through stone steps and so on…
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Pic 10: A lovely group photo with some of the village kids!
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Pic 11: Dinner being prepared over a ‘chulha’ in the minimalistic kitchen, which also serves to make the room warm during winters.