Finding silence in a storm

Finding silence in a storm

 

 

A vibrant autumn on our way to Nalla Camp

 

“We may get really bad weather. We may even feel scared. But remember that bad weather always passes and good weather comes in.”

 

These words from Avilash, our trek leader from White Magic, kept ringing inside my head. My tent mate Sheetal and I were making an effort to use our legs to hold the frame of the tent so that it won’t collapse. Our hands were getting tired of the job. A continuous blizzard flapped our tent vigorously. Shards of snow attacked us without restraint. The heavens were plastering snow on our tents, on our faces and our bodies. The wind blew at an unearthly 80- 100km per hour. As for us, we were exhausted and hungry.

 

Acclimatisation walk; Rudra Gaira camp in the far distance

 

“Really Avilash?” I thought, recalling his earlier words of wisdom. Because, after several hours it seemed like this storm would never come to pass.

 

We were on the Auden’s Col trek that explores the interior regions of Garhwal and Kumaon. After staying the night at a hotel near Dehradun called Royal Apricot, we drove up to Gangotri, where legend says that Goddess Ganga descended to earth. It was here that we began acclimatizing our bodies. Our first camp was the Nalla Camp (3,760m). From Nalla we trekked to the Rudra Gaira base camp (4,400m).

 

Himalayas never fail to amaze in revealing their beauty bit by bit. The trek began through a dense, lush forest with stunning shades of yellow, orange, and green. Slowly, the forest gave way to shrubs and rocky terrain. The stretch leading up to Auden's Col base camp was almost all moraine that eventually turned into snow - 'White Magic' literally. We started as a group of six that shrank to four. Two people dropped out after experiencing early glimpses of difficulty on the trek.

 

 

After four days of walking, we reached Auden’s Col base camp (4,800m). Up until this point our trek seemed to follow a systematic plan. Our group waited patiently at the base camp for the weather to give us a window for the climb. After two days of nonstop snow, we finally got instructions that we’d start climbing at 3am the next morning. What usually is a five hour climb ended up taking seven amidst tough weather and terrain conditions.

 

Auden's Col Base Camp after 2 days of snow

 

There were many steep slopes to traverse leading up to the Col. Our guides who walked ahead, constantly checked for crevasses to ensure safety. We were roped up one behind the other and marched on through deep snow. The last hour was a test of will power - sharp winds striking the face, bitter cold, exhaustion, and ongoing snow. We just simply had to take one step after another and keep going. Magically, we reached the top of Auden’s Col (5,400m) at 10am. We became the first and only group in the post monsoon season this year to reach the Col. This was supposed to be the pinnacle. But was it? We were soon going to find out.

 

 

Given the excessive snow, Avilash decided that the crossing over of the col and maneuvering the glacier may be too risky. The crevasses would be buried and that could make things more difficult. We decided to trek back to the basecamp.

 

At camp our spirits were high. We celebrated our surreal achievement. Little did we realize that the real adventure lay ahead. As we retired back into our tents, the winds outside slowly got wilder by the minute, eventually battering us with snow. The situation prevented us from stepping out. We were trapped inside for more than 36 hours. Sheetal and I wondered what would happen if we were exposed to the blizzard outside. What would happen to our lives, our desires and the hankering we left behind? We talked, laughed and prayed to keep our spirits high. It was an odd feeling of being empty and full at the same time - thoughts inside that couldn't find an easy outlet.

 

White Magic!

 

Clear blue sky after days of bad weather

 

As the day broke, we were starved and slowly consumed a packet of dry fruits. Who knew when we’d get our next meal because the dining tent outside had collapsed. As part of the descent planning, kitchen supplies had been sent to a lower camp on the day of our climb. The kitchen team and porters did a load ferry to a lower camp and returned to Auden's Col base camp. We had limited supplies. Avilash said, "We are now in survival mode and we must manage with whatever we have".

 

Somehow at noon a meal of aloo paranthas and tea arrived. Our camp staff figured out a way to feed us through the storm. Oh my, paranthas have never tasted better.

 

 

By late afternoon, the intervals between the heavy gusts of wind showed signs of slowing down. From showing up every 20 seconds, winds were now making their presence felt every other minute. We felt a little more assured that we’d be out of this soon. It’s in moments like these that we realize that what we really need to get through life are the basics - roti, kapda, and a makaan to shelter us. The rest somehow works itself out. Yet we take our most important blessings for granted and continue to fret, crib, and cry for reasons that eventually come to pass.

 

People often ask me why I keep going on treks and climbs despite bad weather, storms, and accidents. Initially, my response would be to say that I wanted to pause from the chaos of life. But my thoughts have evolved over the years. It’s true that when you return to the city, your routine takes over. The effect of the trek dwindles and becomes a bleak memory. But something subtler begins to take shape inside. Each trek brings about a realization that you really don’t need much to live, to be happy and to cherish life. The mountains show you that you can survive with just so little. That subtler knowing percolates into day to day living. You tend to view everyday life situations differently. Perhaps, observing everything more silently, more patiently. That silence finds a space in your heart and speaks to you. It guides you to let things be and become a witness of it all. Because storms - as with everything else in life - have their own time period. They come. They go. They invariably pass on. Then calmness dawns. But that calmness was always present within. It was. You just needed to find it.

 

- Divya Bhalla


SHARE THIS STORY

TAGS:

Add new comment

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Web page addresses and e-mail addresses turn into links automatically.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.