A Himalayan trek each year is like Garam Cutting Chai to my sore throat. I wait for those 12 days all year. Its sooooo comforting to just simply run away from the busy rat-race of the Cosmo-Cities. The Himalayas take my breath away (quite literally).
Sheets of snow in all directions. Not a single soul except our lot. Miles from civilization. 5000m above sea level. 7 layers of clothing on my cold body. I felt a different kind of scared that day.
Suddenly I slipped so hard that my left hip hit a hard rock. I could neither get up nor walk. There was no sign of life for miles, nor the green earth.
The snow was harsh and biting, driven into my pale face. It had been blinded by a frantic flurry of swirling white. The brutal wind cut through my pants and gloves.
And in that one moment, I was awed. I had always seen the giving, entrancing side of nature. But today I saw her dark spirit-wild and untamed. She showed me that she was undoubtedly the strongest force on this planet.
(But anyway, SPOILER ALERT: I DID MANAGE TO GET UP AND WALK DOWN.)
When we reached the base camp, hot water, food other than potatoes and internet seemed like luxuries. And if you had seen me get off at Pune Airport, you could have seen all 29 of my teeth through that wide smile.
But yeah, I am so glad I was a part of that trek. I had lots of unforgettable moments and I met 2 dozen of new people with new stories. I was taking back a bag full of memories with me.
Also, now I have an interesting story to tell to my grandkids when I am an 80-year-old granny with nothing else to do:)