***
Continued from Another Mountain Waiting (Rupin Pass Trek - Part 3)
Remain awake till 2 AM - Easy!
Wake up at 2 AM - Not so much!
Wake up at 2 AM inside a tent hitched at a height of 13,275 ft, freshen up in the dark using just your headlamp, have breakfast, then pack your water and lunch for the day, gear up from head to toe to withstand the freezing cold, and lastly ensure the tent is clear and every belonging of yours is inside your backpack.
Sure, why not!
"I told you yesterday, anyone who is not ready by 4 AM will have to find his own way to the summit," Navesh bhai's voice was loud and clear as I tightened my shoelaces outside my tent. Nobody asked me, but I considered tying my shoelaces right the most important thing on the trek. I often wondered if I fell that day because my left shoe wasn't as tight as it should have been.
The group had reached the gathering spot. They had already started the counting. Once they reached the end, I heard Nitin say, "Who's missing?"
Me.
"Coming," I shouted. I was finally done with my shoelaces. I put on my gloves, collected my trek poles pitched to the ground, and rushed to the gathering spot with my headlamp guiding the way. Upon joining the group, Nitin signalled me to the start of the line.
Of course.
I walked to the front and positioned myself behind the girl gang. Shortly, we began, with Varun leading us on a steep climb. As we rose in height, the mountains transformed from dark silhouettes to snow giants. The moon emerged from behind the clouds, and our campsite and the Rupin river disappeared from sight altogether.
When we took our first water break, we were walking alongside the edge of a cliff. There wasn't much room on the trail. We were instructed to keep close to the cliff side and be careful about where we placed our trek poles; one slip along the edge could throw off our balance and lead to a nasty fall. I was taken aback when Navesh bhai emerged out of nowhere and glared at me. "Where is your helmet?"
Shit! Did I leave it inside the tent?
Before I panicked further, Navesh bhai quickly pointed out that it was hanging from the rear of my backpack. He walked away after asking me to put it on. The group resumed, and I fell behind to strap it in place.
Daylight filled the sky, and I could see the clouds bursting with colour. The sun was performing its daily chore without making its presence known. There was more room on the trail now. I started overtaking people to reach my designated position behind the girl gang. Turning around a bend, I found everyone frozen in their tracks. Thinking it was one of the routine hydration breaks, I continued on. I finally noticed Kamya standing still, and moments later, Nitin, Navesh bhai, Varun and Pallavi standing beside her. MJ was nowhere to be seen. I didn't run. I wasn't stupid. But I definitely increased my pace.
I found MJ sitting on a rock, surrounded by everyone. She looked more troubled than she had been throughout the trek. She was having trouble breathing, a bit of nausea and headache. Nitin and Varun were trying to calm her down, motivating her. I just stood there, without saying anything. She had the right people around her already. I would only end up saying something stupid and annoying.
She was almost back to herself when something struck me: the reason I'd started carrying chocolate on every trek in the first place. It was never a cure for illness. Eating one just helped soothe my nerves. I'd brought a chocolate for each day of this trek too, except today. For Summit Day, I had a single protein bar, saved specially for the occasion, still unopened. I took it out of my pocket, tore the wrapper, and handed it to MJ. She took a corner of it and returned the rest to me.
"I thought you would politely decline." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. She tilted her head and glared at me. Pallavi and Kamya looked equally unimpressed. That didn't stop me.
"I leave you for a minute and you..." I made a falling gesture with my right hand. "Kamya, Pallavi, you should have taken care of MJ. I expected better from you two."
"Shut up, Manish!"
"Really, get lost," Pallavi added. I gave a sheepish smile, then put on my most serious face. "MJ. Listen to me. You are going to be alright. All of us will reach the summit and click a picture together; then a lot of yours, mixing various backgrounds and poses. Is that alright?"
That brought a smile to her face. Moments later, she was back on her feet. I'd like to take credit for that, but honestly, it was all her.
We began soon after. Following snow patches up the slope, we finally reached the top of the mountain ridge, and there it was right ahead of us: a snowy meadow. The trail flattened, easing the pressure on my knees. Finding a suitable spot, Nitin asked us to halt and put on our microspikes.
Snow snow everywhere.
Wherever I could see
I had consumed so much water
Nowhere I could find a place to pee.
Wow! My muse was back! A lame attempt but full marks for effort.
The snowy meadow stretched far and wide with just a grey line running through the middle. The trail we had to follow curved over snow dunes. Varun led the way, followed by MJ, then me. Of all the days to be near the front, today was the day to be.
I rushed ahead of Varun multiple times. Something had started bubbling inside me, a fever that flared whenever I was close to doing one of the three things I loved most: launching a new App feature at work, writing the closing lines of a poem, or reaching the summit of a trek. My summit fever was a self-limited disease, one that came and went of its own accord, no medical intervention required. The same fever had gripped me on Kedarkantha summit day, when I overtook the lead guide so many times he eventually gave up trying to stop me. That day, I was first in the group to reach the top.
That was then. I restrained myself this time, resorting to a slow walk through the snow, short breaks in between. During one such break, I finally found a place to pee, well off the trail. By the time I returned, the group had moved on and I'd lost my position. I continued alone, no sight of anyone, until I crossed a mound and spotted Pallavi in her blue jacket. Ahead of her, a wall of rock rose, dusted with snow, a narrow inclined path cut into it leading to the top of the ridge, tiny figures already climbing it.
The Rupin Pass Gully.
I found Nitin and the rest of the group gathered at the base of the slope leading up to it. A final pause before the toughest part of the trek.
Other groups had joined us by now. We walked in a single file, and it was hard to keep track of who was where, but I knew MJ was somewhere ahead, with Navesh bhai beside her. After crossing the slope, I reached the foot of the gully — and that's where I found her, sitting on a boulder, looking as if she had given up completely.
Out of nowhere, an image flashed in my mind, from a different trek, eight years ago. Abhay, Somnath, Neil and I had just crossed Tungnath temple. Nobody else was on the trail, just the four of us, aiming to reach Chandrashila summit before sunrise. That was when Neil gave up. He told us to go on without him, that he'd wait right there. Abhay and Somnath went ahead. I stayed back, trying to talk him into moving. He didn't budge. Eventually I went on too. I reached the summit, but missed the sunrise. I didn't care much, because an hour later, Neil had made it to the top anyway, on his own.
Coming back to present, I looked at MJ and then at Navesh bhai standing by her side. I didn't need to worry. She would reach the summit like she had done so many times before. She would just have to do it at her own pace. With that thought in mind, I left her behind and pushed on into the gully, a half-tube cut out of the mountainside, craning my neck up at intervals to see how far I had left. Prayer flags fluttered faintly up above.
Then I heard a murmur. Somebody shouted rockfall. I froze, as instructed, and waited. The rock wasn't large, and it landed only a few feet ahead of me. Shaken, I focused on small, careful steps, matching the pace of the man in front of me, whoever he was.
Put one foot forward. Breathe. Then put your next foot forward.
I said that to myself so many times until I finally reached Rupin Pass Summit.
And then something happened that had almost become a habit for me. Looking at the beauty surrounding me, I broke down completely. I didn't stop the tears. I let them come. My knees trembled with something between happiness and disbelief. Somebody hugged me. It was Rajib, followed by the rest of the Bong gang of our group. The hugs kept coming, one after another, whoever I ran into — Ronit, then Nitin, then Varun and Joginder bhaiya, the whole group folding in.
Nobody had mentioned it during the briefing, but there was a makeshift Shiva temple at the summit, and a tricolour tied to a trishul. I walked towards it with whatever strength I had left, pitched my trek pole into the ground, and bowed my head. I stood there in silence with my eyes closed.
Om Namah Shivaya!
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm happy."
"Why are you crying if you are happy?"
"I'll smile once I clear the backlog of all the times I wasn't happy."
"You know there are other sources of happiness that doesn't involve climbing a mountain."
"Yes, I know. You have told me before. Anything else..."
"Just one more thing... It wasn't your fault."
I opened my eyes to cheers and clapping. MJ had finally reached the summit, accompanied by Navesh bhai. She was in tears, and was hugging everyone, one by one. She had so many fans around. I had to wait for my turn. When she finally looked at me, a smile broke through the tears, and she pulled me in. I was surrounded by an astounding landscape but my eyes closed automatically. For a moment, I was back at Chandrashila Summit. I was hugging Neil after he had surprisingly reached the summit.
How could I ever tell MJ that hugging her felt, for a second, like consoling Neil, like the goodbye I never got the chance to give him.
Call it a divine vibe, something in the mountain air or just a writer's habit of finding meaning where there might be none, but wrapped in that hug, it finally made sense why I'd come on this trek with MJ. I was trying to fill Neil's absence with MJ's presence. I was overcompensating by showing up for a friend now, because somewhere back then, I hadn't shown up for another. So many reasons to climb a mountain. Mine, it turned out, was guilt, dressed up as friendship.
True to my promise, I clicked a group picture with MJ, Pallavi and Kamya. We had come a long way from the day we'd first sat together in a Scorpio in Rohru. Then I clicked as many pictures of MJ as she wanted. She had earned every one.
It was the longest, most tiring day of the trek. Starting at 4 AM, I reached the summit after ascending 2,000 feet at 8 AM. That was followed by a descent of 2,200 feet. Once the snow-slide section was over, I had to trudge through the snow, my feet sinking here and there. I fell multiple times. And once the path was clear of snow, the descent just went on and on, never-ending. Finally, I reached the campsite at 2 PM.
Ronti Gad was a windy place, and every tent was flapping hard against its guy lines. The location didn't help matters either. The tents were pitched on a downward slope close to the edge. Mayank was surprised that I had already found a tent for us. He usually reached the campsite before me.
While sipping our favourite aam panna, apparently our last one, I asked MJ, "Did you tell anyone tomorrow's my birthday?"
"No, but I think trek leaders are supposed to know these kinds of things."
"Okay, no need to tell anyone."
"Yeah, I know. Same way I don't have to tell anyone you're a poet."
"Good," I smiled. "Speaking of which, I finally wrote a poem on this trek."
"Wah, nice. See, I told you to be patient. Show me."
I showed her the hastily scribbled words in my travel journal. She struggled with my handwriting, so I had to jump in to read.
Maybe it's about the journey
Maybe it's about the destination
Maybe it's about the version of you
That you become during the journey
Maybe it's about the version of you
That you leave behind to go on it
Maybe it's about people you meet randomly
Maybe it's about the moment you leave them behind
Maybe it's about the rush to reach the summit
That finally taught you to slow down
Maybe it's about finding what you were looking for
Only to realise it wasn't what you were looking for
Maybe it's about all of it
And none of it, at once
Maybe there was never a maybe
Maybe it's just about walking on and on
"It's really good," she said, then punched me on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming on this trek with me. I'm looking forward to us doing Chandrabhaga trek together in August. I hope our waitlist clears. I am at one. You must be at two."
Yes, that was the plan. Then, back in Jiskun, when everyone was introducing themselves, I realised that this was my third trek with Indiahikes — the hat-trick. I had smiled at the realisation. For some reason, the smile was followed by another thought, one that hadn't left me since.
This should be my last trek.
The thought stayed with me throughout the trek, but finally hardened into something at the summit when I bowed my head to Shiv ji. My heart sank. I had forgotten to take into account that MJ and I were both on the waitlist for Chandrabhaga Trek. When I told MJ that this was going to be my last trek, she just thought I was saying that to annoy her. Not wanting to ruin her mood then, I didn't try to convince her that I was serious.
***
The best tradition of Indiahikes was reserved for the next morning: postcards.
As always, I addressed mine to Abhay, Somnath and Neil. My pen hovered over Neil's name a moment too long, but then I flipped the postcard over and kept writing anyway.
Hi guys,
I am celebrating my birthday in Ronti Gad (13,000 ft), a day after completing the Rupin Pass Summit (15,279 ft), my highest yet. And just like that, another year and another trek have gone by. I really cannot pinpoint what I have achieved in between. Things have changed a lot since my last trek, but one thing hasn't and never will: I think of the three of you every time I'm surrounded by mountains.
I know it's too much to ask for things to go back to how they were, but I'll definitely put in more effort. Thanks to MJ! Remember MJ? Neil met her. You two never did. She keeps reminding me how idiotic it is of me to distance myself from the two of you.
We will be okay, I guess. Someday...
Happy birthday to me!
***
On the way to Sangla, I was thinking about a conversation I had with Varun and Kamya last night. After an early dinner, Mayank had retired to the tent but I walked around the campsite. At some point, I met Varun and Kamya. They weren't getting any sleep either.
"So how did you like Rupin Pass?" Varun asked me.
"It's a good question," I said, then turned to Kamya. "I also have a good answer but I will only say it out loud if you promise to not take offence."
"Fine, go ahead. But it should be good."
"Rupin Pass Trek is like a high-maintenance girlfriend, but she's worth maintaining. She's got everything you need, but you need to put in a lot of hard work to match her expectations."
Both of them burst into laughter. Varun finally said, "You should put that as Rupin Pass Trek feedback on Indiahikes website."
"Yeah, and get blacklisted for future treks," added Kamya.
It was a good moment. Something I would like to keep with me for a long time. The trek was over. All that was left now was to reminisce.
By the time we reached Sangla and my phone found network again, a message from Somnath was waiting.
"Happy Birthday! What plans for today?"
I smiled and sent him the video MJ had shot of me cutting a cake that morning in Ronti Gad. I also added a caption: "Birthday celebration at 13,000 feet. Most memorable birthday ever."
"Wow, send more pics," he replied. I did.
Abhay's message came when we were on the bus to Shimla. I sent him the same video with the same caption. His reply made me laugh. MJ was sitting beside me. I showed it to her.
"How did they manage to get the cake up there? Good backdrop to celebrate though."
Even I didn't know how they baked the cake. MJ helped me with the reply.
"Homemade marble cake, baked in the kitchen tent. Same as our breakfast."
"Indiahikes put in a lot of effort, man."
"Yeah. Great surprise."
The rest of the way, Himanshu played my favourite songs because it was my birthday. Everyone knew now. Thanks to the small celebration Nitin and the kitchen staff had put together that morning in Ronti Gad, cake and all.
After cutting the cake, Nitin had asked me to say a few words. And, the writer ran out of words. But if I was better prepared I would have said something that was closer to this:
"Treks transform lives, goes the Indiahikes tagline. But it isn't the trek itself that brings about the transformation. You have to take the experience and carry it back with you, channel it into something fruitful, into the rest of your life. It is about time I stopped using new people and new places as a distraction from the real ordeals of daily life, the mountains that cannot be conquered by completing 5 kilometres under 32 minutes. Getting married, maybe. Having a daughter, someday, who grows up and tells me to drink warm water with apple cider to watch my weight."
As the bus wound down through Kinnaur Valley, I thought about that speech I never gave, and about MJ beside me, already planning the next trek.
Sorry, MJ! I won't be coming along with you for the next trek. Because there are a few mountains in my personal life that I have to climb on my own. I hope I am as ready as I need to be.
***
The End
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