Along he came when I was lost somewhere in the mountains

By ‘lost’ I don’t mean ‘lost in the beauty’ but I mean ‘lost’, literally!

Visiting the hills comes naturally to me. I look towards the high reaches whenever I plan a vacation. They teach me grit and humility. So, a couple of months back I decided to undertake a solo informed travel across the Himalayas. I was both excited and nervous - my first time.

And Nepal was my first stop. Nepal was beautiful especially the Pokhara valley and its surrounding villages. I went back to Kathmandu after staying in Pokhara for a week. But only to come back!

Did I take the right decision? Yes, I thought.

So, I came back to Pokhara exactly three days after reaching Kathmandu. I was heading towards the largest Gurung village in the Annapurna mountain range. It was also a part of the Annapurna Conservation Area and served my purpose well. I did travel on this route a week before and thought I was a pro. This is Sikles – the last village at a height of 2000 meters.

The bus ride was same as last week. The only difference this time was that the weather was a bit cloudy. We continued the gravel road. The driver did face some glitches on the hairpin bends but, again, I thought it was usual. However, after four hours into our journey, our driver stopped, for good.

He said that the road was too bad to drive ahead. I heard him but couldn’t make myself believe. I got worried as I saw the fellow passengers getting off the bus.

When the driver gave up and couldn't take us further ahead.

I didn’t know the language, I didn’t know anyone, not even the route. I corned around three ladies who could barely speak Hindi. They were astonished to see me travel alone and started discussing something amongst themselves. I didn’t understand a word. I tried to converse but in vain. Never did I feel so helpless. I thought my adventure seeking attitude went too far this time.

The ladies could make me understand that if I walked up the route for another 40 minutes, I will be in Sikles. I wanted to walk ahead with them only to realise that they were heading towards a different direction. I realised that I couldn’t take the risk of going alone with no roads and bad weather. Neither did I want to go with four other men who also had no other choice but to walk. The only soul I knew was the owner of ‘Namaste Guest House’ in Sikles where I was supposed to stay. I tried to call him but didn’t have network coverage. That’s when I thought it was a wrong decision and I shouldn’t have come. I felt completely ‘lost’.

Road condition leading to Sikles due to heavy rain.

The worst part was that very few people knew where I was heading. Precisely, only two. I never went so wrong in my entire life. I sent a message to my husband and GIST cohort in a hope that will read it whenever the messages get delivered. At least they will be able to track me if something goes wrong. It was then that two of the male fellow passengers offered me to help. Staying in Delhi for the last 15 years, I had to be suspicious but didn’t have a choice. All my feminism went for a toss!

I started to walk with them. They gave me good vibes. But was constantly asking me why I was travelling alone. Seriously, I didn’t have any answer to convince them. I had to be their friends and reach the guest house at the earliest. I was under extreme mental and physical pressure. And as I could have it started pouring cats and dogs. All drenched, and I was carrying a bag pack with camera equipment and a laptop. I couldn’t walk anymore and so asked one of the man to stop and take shelter somewhere. The climb was tiring with the two backpacks. The only fact that kept me going was to put up a brave and a confident face.

With my two saviors.

But, once again, the mountains and its people didn’t fail me. Those two individuals were true gentlemen. We had to part ways with one who lived in Parche, few kilometers before Sikles. My companion then was Deepak dai. I can’t thank him enough. He was such a nice human being and along our journey he started narrating his story. I felt guilty for being suspicious earlier. It made me realise what cities have done to our thinking, and how naïve and humble the mountain people are. They help genuinely without expectations. But I felt sorry for them. Both these men were carrying heavy sacks on their head. It was the regular supply they bring from Pokhara. But I felt, we and the government have failed them. The village at a height of 2000mts deserves a road. It serves as prominent trekking point for serious trekkers in the Annapurna region, but Nepal still haven’t been able to give a proper road to its own people.

I hope tomorrow will be a clearer day. The roads are manageable to drive on and I reach Pokhara safely. But, Deepak dai’s life will be same; struggles will be same. I hope it doesn’t remain a regular affair for him.

A picture I took from the bus unknown that minutes later I would be walking on this path.