The lake of secrets
The weather seemed to be furious, which was making it more exquisite. We came jokingly and stopped at every corner of the way to enjoy the alluring view. The tiring elevation seemed to have vanished when the groves of Pine and Bhojpatra had appeared. The lake pretended to be not so far, and the way looked easy. I thought the sacred Brahmital lake was inviting us warmly in its vicinity. According to folktales, the lake was sacred and only allowed for people with pure hearts. People of nearby villages have been coming here for ages to offer respect and during times of almost tragedy to seek solace. The weather took its turn just then, and it started to snow quite heavily.
It was clever of my partner and friend, a very talented mountaineer Saurabh Baiya to camp a few kilometres ahead of the intended campsite to get a head start for the next day. We reached the campsite at around 3 p.m., a bit wet and a bit cold. So, we set up our tent quickly and baiya soon went to deep sleep as he was pretty tired of his work on his farm and then hiking today. I was assigned the task of removing the snow over the tent. Sitting there in the middle of nowhere was rather pleasing, and watching the snow do its magic. The falling snow has a calming effect; it can change everything within its span, be it a place or someone's mood. It is not turbulent like rain; it's subtle and sublime. I sat there looking and listening to the silence and became a part of that falling snow descending in my thoughts and settling in the disparities. Now, I can feel the music of life. "They all belong to each other; the lament of those who yearn, the laughter of the wise, the cry of indignation and groan of the dying. They were all interwoven and interlocked, entwined in thousand ways. And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearning, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world. All of them together was the stream of events, the music of life."- Hermann Hesse in 'Siddhartha'.
It stopped snowing in the middle of the night, and the sky was clear as crystal during the sunrise. So, we packed a day bag and went to watch the lake. But there was a lot of snow on the way than Baiya anticipated. So, I was slow, and Baiya had to wait for me while I slipped and struggled in the deep snow. Our feet got cold by the snow entering the shoes. At the end of the approach of around 1100 meters, I was pretty tired, but the quintessential view kept pushing towards the top. There is a strange satisfaction when one finishes a tiresome task, yet the destination is never etched in our memory, but the journey is. We could not witness the lake as it was frozen and covered with fresh snow. It was as if like the lake was calling for me again for a visit, as if it was not done with me, as if now is not the time to remove the curtains of secrecy, as if the glimpses are what I get now. I have to come again to watch it in a different form and in a different glory.
I wondered if I must feel disappointed not to be able to witness the lake, but this did not happen. I felt fulfilled. We were surrounded by the vast 6000 metres of peaks of the Greater Himalayas, Chirbas Parbat (6529 mt.) Matri (6721 mt.), Chaturbhuj (6654 mt.), Mana Parbat I (6794 mt.), Chaturangi IV (6303 mt.) Bhrigu Parbat (6041 mt.), Srikantha (6133 mt.), Gangotri I (6672 mt.), Gangotri III (6577 mt.), Jaonli (6632 mt.), and many more, standing there in full glory in the humblest way possible. We then went speeding down the snow, packed our tent, and flew towards Baiya's home as we knew a hot and delicious dinner was waiting for us.
P.S.- A very special thanks to my dear friend Saurabh Baiya without whom this journey would never be possible. Check him out at - Saurabh Rana