High altitude thoughts

Mohammed Izhaar
Aug 23, 2017 · 6 min read

Never go near these mountains

Strange, you might think, such an advice coming from someone wandering in these mountains. By these, I mean the himalayas, of course, other mountains would be equally perilous. Perilous to the way of your life.

I first saw these giants in Manali, 3 years back, when I came here for a month. I was awestruck although my friend kept reminding me that these are nothing, you should see the Kashmir. And from then onwards, it was an obsession. I kept dreaming about these mountains. But being from South, they were far from me. Too costly to reach them. So I saved. Saved obsessively. Although it wasn’t a conscious effort, my weekend-nomadic lifestyle made it impossible to spend money. Weekdays were hectic and weekend spent in roaming around the hills nearby. It cost almost nothing and the bank account swelled.

Of course, it didn’t meant I was rich. It’s just my needs were little. Next year, I gathered a troop and we hired a car from Delhi. A Road trip to Ladakh thru Srinagar. But it was somewhat tragic. Those with me were content to watch these mountains, from behind the window pane. I, on the other hand was dying to breath the fresh mountain air, run atop the green meadows and reach the summit, to see what surprise lay beyond. So it was a bit of disaster, I should say. I still remember the day when others refused to stop at Sonmarg and move on. It’s just another hill, they all decided. And I climbed a 100m on that just another hill, and wept. I wanted to ditch them and travel alone at that moment. But sadly I had no money for that. So I grumblingly sat in the car and saw those beautiful hills from afar. And I knew that I would come back next time, alone. Free.

A strange thought had crept inside my mind. What is the some total of 30 years of my existence?

Would I die happily if death come now?

I knew the answer. There was a gaping hole in my heart. Though I have trekked more than some would claim in their life time, i was still dissatisfied with myself. Intense jealousy would arouse inside me, when someone on treks boast about their Himalayan treks. A jealousy bordering hatred. I needed that. I needed those treks in Himalayas. To boast? Maybe. To feel pride. But most of all, I thought, maybe that will fill the hole in my heart. Maybe then I would be content at last.



The cycle ride was just an excuse, to get the leaves. By the next year, I had saved even more. I ate food at factory canteen, bought no new clothes and as usual weekends spent in cheap thrills. So, I sold the plan to everyone and somehow now I had 4 months. 4 months. If somehow I managed to reach there in 2 months, I still wouldve 2 months to spend in Himalayas. My birthday was just around the corner and the roads would open just in time. And I could be back after 4-5 months and settle in my job,I had wonderful colleagues. Be happy, forever.

But then fate had better plans. My manager cancelled the leaves. Ah, how I should thank him. That one moment in his office changed everything. I had invested too much time and effort in the plan. I knew I would never do it, if I backed away now. However exciting it might seem, such a long voyage is still scary. I was scared all right, but I somehow managed to keep myself excited. But at that moment, I knew that I would loose it, if I backed away. So I threw my job away. It was a scary prospect. I knew, how my career would suffer. I had struggled to find a job, last time I took a 3 months break. But strangely I felt calm. There was this thought in the back of my mind. What if this is the last year of your life? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have an adventure instead of suffering here?

And so it went. Now that I had freedom, I relaxed. If this is the only adventure I’m going to have, then it has to be grandest one. So I wandered aimlessly. I started with Kerala, a dream of my childhood. And the 20days spent there washed away all the doubts. Hemant was with me, so loneliness wasn’t an issue. And we both had wonderful time in God’s own country.

Tamilnadu became a hot hell in peak summer. And I was content to leave it behind. Andhra Pradesh was a pleasent surprise. Now this life was charming. I was a mini celebrity wherever I went. Never in my life was I felt so important or admired. There were those two kids from Assam who went on to cycle to Ladakh and it hit hard when they told me that it’s me who inspired them. Life, finally had a meaning. I never really understood what exactly I inspired in them, but they saw something and they were happy.. I felt like Forrest Gump, confused but happy to help.

The whole country was a classroom. I was learning without effort. Learning to laugh woth strangers, learning to trust and learning to let go of my plans. I slept in jungles, smoked with an aghori baba, reached 5000m in just my shorts and got drunk with strangers. This side of humanity was new to me. People were beautiful. There was no malice, no politics, no scheming, and I started to wonder. Slowly my idea of world and humanity was changing. The ones away from us, the poor, they seemed to stay away not by chance but by choice. They seemed happy, content, not in a race. The more farthest I went, the nicer, warmer people were. I realised that world was kind. Kind to one, even as absurd as me.

I had lost too much time when i reached NE. The snow was about to cut off Ladakh for another year. Though I had covered more than 10000kms by then, I wasn’t sure about lasting another six months. So I hurried to there. Skipped a few states. And behold the mighty hills.

I had company throughout Kashmir. Old friends and strangers alike. It was just as beautiful as I had imagined. Almost two months passed in the mountains, braving cold, snow and long stretches of inhabited lands. And my first trek of the Himalayas too. Admirably, but stupidly I climbed atop the tallest one on offer. The stok kangri. I had no idea of glacier, never walked on snow and never had reached such lofty height. It was a moment of madness. It was there, so close and imposing. And I didn’t wait to think. Above 5000m, my stupidity was in plain sight. I was terrified to walk on the glacier, it felt like walking on glass, shatter at any moment. Every step was a scary, every crunch gave an heart attack. The thin air winded me in ten steps. It was astonishing for someone who’s used to run atop the hills of South. I threw up just below the summit but still kept climbing. The sense would come later, after slipping from a small climb, above 6000m. The summit was just 100m above but there was another glacier to climb up. But I realised that I knew nothing about these mountains. The terrain was alien and I was out of depth here. It was tough decision, but I backed. I needed to learn how to live here. Not die. Not yet.

I was humbled by the big one but it was for good. I was going to come back. I left Kashmir and headed South. I needed to meet my friends there. Maybe for a last time. And I came back to Kashmir, this time to learn. A month in Jawahar institute of mountaineering and I was more confident now. And somehow I now wanted to walk in these mountains, live here. So I did walk from Kashmir valley, to Himachal now(I’m writing this in Tabo, spiti valley). I’ve crossed numerous high passes, long snow fields and braved even a storm. The hills are now dear friends. My secret abode far away from everyone.

But they’ve more power on me than before. As long I was on cycle, I was near roads, near people. But in these mountains, people are rare. An unusual calm takes over me. Long walks alone are spent in trance like state. A calm I never had before. A sense of total freedom. Now that I’m almost broke, I dread going back to cities. I need to start working again but after these months spent here in these towering mountains, I can’t bring myself to think about living outside. A sense of unease now has taken over me, now that I’m near the end.

How I wish that it ends just here.

)

Mohammed Izhaar

Lonely wanderer, Explorer, Cyclist, Runner, Trekker, Nomad.

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