Hemkund

Our destination is Hemkund at 15,200 ft. The air is thin there and oxygen levels low. It is a steep climb of 6.5 km and I am ready. Being a cycling enthusiast, and having some experience of endurance sporting activities, one is privy to a few secrets of the body. S and her companion take mules, which is a good idea. I set my own steady pace. All that matters is where the next step falls. There are portions of each stone that are friendly for the feet and others, quite the opposite. An understanding of fatigue, pain and the body's capacity to endure is essential. So is knowing the role of the mind. I can't help but think, that there are nature's laws and there is rhetoric. Sometimes, even excellent minds are much invested in the latter. Incredible as the landscape is under a blue sky, the mountains can be treacherous and it is best to remember that. I pause once in the middle to get a few shots of pilgrims and the landscape, to have some water before moving on.It takes me less than two hours for the walk and I have a bit of time before the blue skies disappear completely.

I dip into the lake when my body is warm. It is freezing. The water feels like it contains little pieces of ice. I enjoy the sensation and I'm ready to run around again. This sarovar is considered holy by the Sikhs and like most other pilgrimages, a dip here is about wish fulfillment. I ask for nothing because it is the opposite of what spirituality is about. I have much to be thankful for. For friends, for a healthy mind and body.

A couple of us walk around the lake. The hillsides nearby are easy to climb and the Chinese(Tibetan) border is nearby. More than an hour passes and there is a vague sensation on the temples, the onset of a mild headache, the first effect of altitude. It's time to return and we are in no hurry. We split into a smaller group watching the landscape more carefully as we pass. There are hopping birds with orange chests, birds with red breasts, more varieties of flowers. A friend spots a hillside lined with the Brahma kamal flowers. These luminous bulbs glow through a rapidly descending mist. We climb up the slope right next to the flowers. The pleasures of travelling lie in the little detours and good company and at the moment we have both. But by the time we are down, a couple of our raincoats are not there any more. The mastiff keeping guard hadn't bothered.

We get slower in the mist, spot more flora and fauna and while returning visit the valley again. We head to the spot to catch perhaps the last Blue poppy plant that has survived the rains. The heavy monsoons in the preceding months have killed the flowers, but there is a sole surviving plant sheltered within a small cave.

We play cards in the evening, huddled under warm blankets when the sky outside turns into a rainy shade of blue. We call each others' bluffs until it's time for dinner.