Most people when asked about their philosophy of travel will utter fairly trite statements about understanding the world or themselves. Others seem to go for the green approach and come out with phrases like "only take photographs, leave only footprints." Others may see it as a kind of great social adventure whilst others happily admit to it being one big hedonistic pursuit. Some prefer not to be boxed into any of these categories. Ladakh is one destination where all your travel philosophies go out of the window. I would like to think that it is the mountains which draw you, instead of you going to the mountains, and it is particularly true with the giants of Ladakh. It is a calling, and not a destination.
It is impossible to communicate a Ladakh experience conventionally. I shall attempt an impressionist painting approach with words, in the hope that a passable picture will emerge from the spaces in between…
Mountain gods and rock ancestors standing watch patiently over the hustle-bustle of human activity - brightly colored prayer flags holding the wind and letting go at once - gompas cut into rock or stuck precariously on the sides of mountains - crumbling plaster and brick stupas in every direction you see - veins of murmuring snow-water racing down the mountains – the majestic confluence of Indus and Zanskar – ‘Julley’ greetings of apple cheeked Ladakis with bad teeth – the resounding frequencies of the surna, daman and the cymbals – monks trancing out behind elaborate masks during the cham dance at Spituk monastry – trigger happy tourists poking their lenses into everything and everyone – the double humped Yarkhandi camels of Nubra Valley, the only remnants of the silk route – a Kalachakra mandala in the making at Diskit monastry – shouting ‘KiKi SoSo Largyalo’ on top of mountain passes – walking around in the ruins of ancient dwellings on the south side of Lama Yuru monastery – spinning every prayer wheel in the passageways of every monastery – the feeling of being a part of a different painting, every few steps on the shores of Pangongso – the grueling climb up the 597 steps of Shanti stupa in Changspa, sometimes twice a day – coming across chukur, blue sheep, pashmina goats, marmots, dzos, yaks suddenly around a bend, or on top of a cliff, on the trail – the thrill of treading the territory of snow leopards, however infinitesimal the possibility of sighting one – Maggie noodles and chung in parachute tents – steaming mok-moks and thugpa in the Tibetian kitchen in Leh - following horse dropping markers to stick to the trail – instant vitamin C shots from thorny Leh Berry plants – green garnet hills with a backdrop of purple skies – the many many shades of blue – knee deep footprints in snow during the pee expeditions in the middle of the night – Apricot oil, apricot jam, apricot juice, sun dried apricots – discovering the perfect moisturizer/lip balm/sun protection in Yak butter – walking to the left of mani walls in obeisance – chanting Om Mani Padme Hum - Sun sets over Ma-La-Pho, the red land as described by Fa-Hien - just to be here and breathe is enough.
Visuals at http://vizualzenzationz.blogspot.com/
