Revisiting Ladakh through a writing exercise
As a fun activity during the hot Labour Day 2020 weekend, a dear friend and I decided to write about something. I hadn’t written in months ( years, even!), so this was going to be interesting!
We had both visited Ladakh a few years back- she in 2014, and I in 2016. So we sat down opposite each other, I set the timer, and we started writing. No rules, we could write whatever came to mind with the word Ladakh. Here is what I wrote:
Riding in a car.
The past few days, I have spoken very little. I have only consumed- the sights, the sounds, the colours, the textures, the smells. We’ve been driving through the valley, to many colourful destinations- Leh, Nubra, Pangong. But I’m craving, and hungry. Not for the destinations, but for the journey- these two lane roads passing through the unforgivingly kind, endless valley. There is nothing beyond the mountains, there is nothing between me and the mountains.
I want to memorize every little detail- the ripples of the ranges, the wild flowers, the peasant walking on the side of the road with a pail sometimes, sometimes with sheep. The soothing tune of Om-Mani-Padme-Om is haunting me, and I want to cry from peace .
Riding in a car. I see bicyclists braving the challenge of biking up to Khardung La- the highest motorable road in the world. I take a breath to acknowledge my little lungs effortlessly filling me with life.
Sometimes I spot from a distance- a pattern of the surface of the mountain. I look at it intently, my eyes following and head turning till we turn at a sharp hairpin bend and I can’t see that pattern anymore, or I have moved so far away from it that it is a dot now. It is a tiny moment of infinite perspective. I have many of these. Riding in a car.
Sometimes I roll down the window ad let the cool wind lash across my face. I want to feel it razor sharp. I memorize that feeling too. I think about what I just passed minutes ago. It was the most intriguing patch of wildflowers blooming like a smile on the face of the earth, or that farmer who was herding his flock back home, or a serene monastery high up in the mountains- making me wonder and wonder. For an instant I want to be alive as them and not me, until they become dots.
And then I realize, I was a dot all along. Riding in a car.
For me visiting Ladakh was like falling in love- I didn’t plan it, but it happened and it changed my life! I joined a women’s traveling group not too many days before it was ready to leave. It was a vibrant, wonderful group of women of all ages and walks of life. I mostly kept to myself (as I wrote in my note). We spent a lot of time on the road, and also stayed at some of the most beautiful places I’ve been to in my life.
We stopped at Leh for a few days, drove over the Khardung-La to Nubra valley where we glamped, drove further to dip our toes in Pangong Tso (lake), and finally made our way back to Leh before bidding Ladakh farewell with a heavy heart. The journey was abundant with visits to serene monasteries, stories of Buddhism by our kind guide Stanzin, delicious Tibetean food ( thukpa!), steaming hot Maggi on the road, unforgettable sights, and just so much tranquility. Everyone in the mountains seemed so happy and content with their lives, it made me envious. I hummed “The hills are alive with the sound of music” all along, and I felt every word of the song.
The most intriguing experience was the Hemis festival . I have to be honest here- I had to google this to refresh my memory on the significance of this illustrious event. I remember wading through crowds of thousands, up a path of many narrow staircases. This finally led to a huge courtyard, engulfed in crowds- where monks performed sacred chants, and dances wearing bright masks of mythical creatures. The sounds of cymbals and trumpets reverberated through the entire monastery- high up on a hill. Standing in a dense but respectful crowd, I was brimming with emotion, love, wonder and gratitude. I felt at one with the spiritual rituals happening in front of me.
In every place I visit, I leave a part of my heart. But Ladakh captured it fully!
Originally published at http://krithikawrites.wordpress.com on September 10, 2020.