by Anil John
Kunzum Pass was already closed weeks ago and there were no vehicles coming from Kaza as well. This was the last truck plying on the Manali-Leh Highway.
The driver managed to bring the truck safely all the way to Gata Loops but this is where the unfortunate struck.
On one of the Loops, his truck broke down and came to a complete halt. After trying for hours, the driver could not fix whatever was wrong with the truck.
Both of them waited for long hours but no other vehicle crossed them because they were the last vehicle on the route. Finally the driver decided to walk to a nearby village and get some help. His assistant was feeling ill and not in a condition to walk, He could barely stand up. The truck was loaded and could not be left abandoned with the cargo.
To avoid the risk of his truck being robbed, the driver suggested his assistant to stay back. The driver walked for miles until he found a village but to his bad luck, there was no mechanic in the village.
He then made a phone call to his friends and relatives in Manali to get someone to come and fix the truck.
It started to snow heavily and became impossible for the driver to get back to the truck. It took several days for the weather to clear and he was stranded in the village all this time.
Finally, help came from Manali and they all hurried back to Gata Loops, in search of the truck and the assistant, only to find the assistant dead and frozen.
The assistant was left alone on this road for several days in freezing cold temperature, in ill health and with no water and nothing to eat; he eventually died a slow death. The body of his assistant was buried at Gata Loops by the villagers, right at this place where he died.
The truck was fixed but it was impossible to drive it either to Leh or back to Manali because the Pass on both the sides was still closed.
The driver drove the truck to the village, he was stranded in and waited until the day it was possible to drive across Rohtang Pass and return to Manali.
Next year, when the highway reopened, people started noticing a strange thing. There was a beggar at Gata Loops who would waive at the passing vehicles to stop and begged them for water.
Some people did not stop but the ones who did and offered the beggar a water bottle, saw the bottles drop right through his hands.
The word spread and people were scared of the ghost who begged for water.
In order to pacify the ghost, the locals made a small temple at the spot where died and was buried and started making offerings of water bottles.”
“Baba, I feel sad for the assistant who died here, he certainly deserved a better end to his life. Instead of offering a water bottle, I would like to pray for his soul to rest in peace.” I responded and uttered a small prayer immediately.
“All these years, the people who put these water bottles here as an offering, do this out of their self imposed fear in their minds but you are the only one who walked down here, not out of fear but of concern for this temple and now for a soul. You are different from them and that makes you an enlightened one.”
I was happy to hear that compliment coming from an old man in a no man’s land. I asked him if I could help him with anything like a woolen cloth or some food. He smiled and denied my offer to help. I turned around and then I overheard him saying,
“All these years, I waited for you to come and pray for me so that now I am released from bondage and can rest in peace.”
His lines struck me like a lightning and I turned back to him instantly. There was no one around and I could feel a breeze sweep across the temple after tousling my hair.
Surprisingly, I was not scared.
After taking a deep breath, I got back to my wheel.
After the loops end, the roads were pretty normal and soon I was cruising over to Naki La and Lachlung La passes. After crossing Lachlung La pass, came the village of Pangi, which was the last bit of civilization before the vast Moore plains open up.
It took 7 hours to reach Pangi and it was 2 pm by now, lunch break for an hour and Leh was still 6 hours away.
It was time to finish off the food parcels gifted by Tenzin. I preferred to eat bread, boiled eggs, and a couple of apples over the local food in Pangi. Post lunch I walked around the place so that my body could get used to the high altitude atmosphere.
My wrist watch beeped the alarm and I got back to my driving seat for my ride through the Moore plains ahead. The Moore plains were 40 kilometer stretch flanked by majestic mountains on both the sides. Driving through the Moore plains was a dusty affair; I was speeding away leaving behind clouds of dust which I could see on my rear view mirror. I could see a gang of bikers on the way hooting and screaming their hearts out to those mountains which looked like giants on this no man’s land.
After a 50 Kilometer drive, the tar road reappeared and the dust started vanishing behind, followed by a 3 hours drive to reach Upshi. I pushed myself for another couple of hours on the wheel and I reached my hotel in Leh, Ladakh.
I was happy but dead tired. A cup of mint tea after dinner in my hotel room, I stretched myself on the bed, for a well deserved rest.
Chapter 11
The land is so barren and the passes so high that only our fiercest enemies or our best friend would want to visit us. - An old saying in Ladakh.
Day 5: My itinerary recommended going easy on myself upon reaching my final destination, Leh, the capital of Ladakh.
Leh was at a higher altitude than the places I had travelled all the way, so my body would take time to adjust to it. Oxygen levels were relatively low so I could tire faster.
I was advised further to spend my fifth day exploring the city on foot or on a hired bicycle.
I roamed around the city lanes and the market on a bicycle, enjoyed Ladakhi food and tasted Yak milk and Yak cheese for the first time in life. Yak is a large domesticated wild animal with shaggy hair, humped shoulders and large horns and is used as a work animal or is raised for its milk and meat by the people in Ladakh. The milk was very rich in texture and was sweet in comparison to the cow milk or buffalo milk we used in our homes.
The vendor boasted of his Yak milk saying it was from an animal that breathe clean air, drink pure water and eat wildflowers and fresh grass on the foothills of the majestic mountain ranges of Himalayas around Leh.
I nodded in agreement and tried the Yak cheese too. The cheese was slightly tangy with a grassy flavor. It was delicate, slow on palate and took a full minute to unfold on my tongue.
I cycled myself to the Leh market and saw authentic artifacts, souvenirs and Ladakhi robes on both sides of the market lane, waiting to be bargained for. I bought a few Leh brand t-shirts for myself, Nitu and Dev.
It was evening now and I pedaled my way back to the hotel to take some rest. Post dinner, I took out my itinerary to check out for my plans in the days left ahead. The itinerary mentioned the tourist places in and around Leh that I could visit.
I had enough of driving through valleys and high altitude motor able passes driving along the way in the past days so I chalked out the Nubra valley and the Khardungla Pass from my wish list.
I knew that the Nubra valley was different with huge sand dunes in the middle of snow peaked mountains but I was too tired to hop on to the two-humped camel for a desert safari. The origin of those huge sand dunes in the Nubra valley was rumored to be from the Tethis Sea from the depths of which the mighty Himalayas are said to have risen.
The two places I was keen to visit while staying in Leh was the Pangong Lake and the Lamayuru. A day and night camping at Pangong Lake tomorrow, subsequent couple of days visits to the Lamayuru and my road trip would come to an end.
Day 6: I woke up at sunrise and had an early breakfast to take my travel mate for a car wash and wheel alignment before I head to Pangong Lake. After an hour of drive from Leh, I was at Karu and then took the left road to reach Shakti. Past the ascent to Changa La Pass, after a few minutes, I saw an expanse of bright blue peeking at me from between the mountains.
Th
e first glance of Pangong Lake was a sight, I will never forget in my life.
I could not imagine the magnitude of the lake from the road. As I drove four kilometers downhill towards the lake, the sheer size of the lake became more evident and breathtaking.
I passed by the army camp at Lukung and the road ahead till Spangmik village was a dirt track with stones and gravel.
I was hypnotized by the serenity and the tranquility of Pangong Lake. The reflection of the mountain range shimmering in the still waters was spectacular but ever changing colors of the lake made it look panoramic and mystical.
I was told that only third of this mesmerizing lake is in India and the rest lies in Tibet, controlled by China. Sitting by the lake, I thought how great it would have been if the lake was not divided by political borders. The lake was certainly an epitome of beauty and a must see in one’s lifetime.
Walking on a stretch, I spotted plenty of gulls and I could not resist clicking pictures of this heavenly landscape and the gulls flying all over it.
The shade of the water in the lake was magical and left me spellbound.
One moment, it was azure in color, the next moment, it was turquoise and then I saw the color of the lake water changing to indigo. I realized the lake is in its best of blue hues only when the sun is properly overhead in a cloudless sky. When the clouds come over and when the sun changes its position, the shades of the water change.
I drove on the road over the stones and gravel to reach the camps nearby, where I had a reservation to spend the night. I liked the camps nestled on the shores of the beautiful Pangong Lake. The tent was made of canvas and the floor was covered with jute carpet to provide warmth inside. It had an attached toilet and washroom with cold running water. The bed had thick blankets and a hot water bag under them to keep the bed warm.
The dinner was served before the sun went down. It was a vegetarian buffet but hot tomato soup was rejuvenating. It was dark and the caretaker lit a camp fire in front of every tent and switched off the electric generator set.
It was pitch dark all around except for the campfire lit before every tent and the tourist families sitting around their respective camp fire and having a good time of their lives.
I was lost in my thoughts and gazed at the bright glittering stars up above. The stars never looked so visibly beautiful before in the city lights.
As the fire started to go out on itself, I realized how shivering cold it was and I got into my tent. I slept with all the sweaters I had with me, along with the thick blankets and the hot water bag beneath.
Day 7: I woke up feeling too warm and took the woolen layers off. My tent was like a glowing orange celestial body. It took me some time to hold on to my senses and realize that it was sunrise at the early hours of the morning. My wrist watch beeped 4 am. I wanted to sleep but couldn’t doze off in the orange glow around. I undressed myself off the sweaters and walked out in a t-shirt.
My stay at Pangong Lake taught me the lesson that nothing is permanent in life, neither the shades of the lake water nor the temperature of the atmosphere. Change is inevitable.
I had my tea and breakfast by 6 am and walked back to the lake for one last time before I departed.
I asked the caretaker “what are the feet sized small stone towers made by placing one flat stone above another and erected everywhere, meant for?”
“The locals put them up in prayer.” He answered
“Why not, after all, it is better to have a prayer with a heart and no words than to have words and no heart in a prayer.” I recalled the wise quote and drove on to my hotel.
Chapter 12
I reached my hotel by 8 am. I took a much needed hot water bath and then ordered my breakfast. The last destination on my itinerary was Lamayuru and my plan was to stay there for two days.
Hardly did I knew that my life was about to change in these last days of my road trip.
I got started by 9 am and I had to drive for two hours to reach the foothills of my final destination in Leh.
Lamayuru village was situated around 127 kilometers from the town of Leh and was located in the western region of Ladakh but the village was not my destination.
It was the ancient tenth century Lamayuru Buddhist Monastery amidst the mountain backed badlands, where I had planned to spend the last two days of my journey with the Buddhist monks.
The ancient Lamayuru monastery was situated at 11,520 feet on the sides of a steep hill, high above the deep gorge through which the Lamayuru River flows. It rests in isolation, away from the main towns and villages nearby.
My travel agent had emailed the respective authority at the monastery about my two days of stay. The stay was confirmed but my much sought after appointment with the abbot was not yet confirmed.
I am a Christian by faith but I have been practicing meditation since my school days and I wanted to know and learn more about Zen.
Zen also known as Zazen means seated meditation. It comes from Buddhism, which is more of a philosophy than a religion. One acquires insight through observing the one’s breath and the mind and through interaction with a teacher.
I reached the Lamayuru village on the foothills of the steep mountains on the top of which the monastery showed up in its grandeur. I parked my travel mate on the common parking lot allotted for tourists and visitors. I had to walk all the way to the monastery to confirm my arrival.
It was not an easy walk. The way through the hills was steep but there was a cobbled pathway for walkers, all the way to the monastery. I huffed and puffed on my way and hardly met another soul except a curious goat.
After walking for a while, I saw the soil glittering. I stopped and bowed down to have a close watch.
The soil was covered with shiny flakes and it was mixed with the soil. I dug a bit of dirt and pebbles with my bare hands and I noticed that my hands were extremely shiny. Even after wiping away much of the dirt from my hands, the residue left my hands glittery.
I realized that it was Mica, a shiny silicate mineral which is used as a thermal and electrical insulator and before I could take my step ahead, I noticed a metallic collar partly buried and partly visible out of the ground at the place I had dug up. I pulled the metallic collar off the ground in curiosity and the metallic collar looked like a thick jewellery chain and out came a medallion hanging on to it.
A medallion round in shape and made up of bronze. I took it in my palms and wiped the dirt and the residue on it. I found a few symbols engraved on it, which looked like Chinese symbols to me except for a recognizable symbol of swastika on its right.
How the world loved the swastika till Adolf Hitler stole it as a symbol of Nazi ideology. I quipped in my heart.
All I knew about the symbol of swastika was that it had thousands of years of old history and was ancient in its origin in different parts of the world. It was and is still considered sacred in Hinduism and Buddhism. The word swastika is a Sanskrit word and it means “It is”, “Well Being”, or “Good Existence.” However, it was also known by different names in different countries like Wan in China.
In Buddhism, the swastika is directly related to Buddha and can be found carved on the soles of his feet and on his heart of his statues. It is said that it contains Buddha’s mind.
I was happy to find an ancient artifact with a swastika on it but the ancient symbols which looked like Chinese were beyond my understanding. I wore it around my neck casually and started hiking ahead towards the monastery.
After a few meters, I collapsed on the pathway and lost my consciousness. It was a blackout.
Then probably after a few minutes, I regained my consciousness when I sensed water being sprinkled on my face and I opened my eyes.
I saw a few men in bright red robes and I could hear one of them asking if I was okay but I had no control over my speech, arms and legs.
They were Buddhist monks passing by and saw me passed out on the pathway and when they came across me, one of the monks amongst them noticed the med
allion lying around my neck. I could hear the monks talking, yet I could not get myself to talk, move or even open my eyes. I just laid there waiting, struggling to get up and to get their attention. The monks were just going to abandon me but one among them, after seeing what I had around my neck, told them that I was under the protection of Buddha and to leave me in such a state and in such surroundings would be bad Karma and that nothing but bad fortune and bad luck will follow them if they did not take me with them.
They carried me holding me by my shoulders and took me to the monastery and after lunch and a few hours of rest; I was able to reveal the details of myself and my trip.
In just a matter of few hours, the word spread across the monastery and then the village nearby that someone under the protection of Buddha has arrived in their monastery.
I told every monk who came to visit me in my guest room that I am no one great, I am not a Buddhist even, I am a christian by faith, I was on a road trip to Leh since past week, and above all, I found the medallion on my way up to the monastery. The monks who came smiled, nodded their heads and bowed, before they left for their chores.
Day 8: Next morning, I woke up to a monk who told me that a very old Zen master, have come down from the higher mountains and apparently asked to see the man who was said to be under the protection of Buddha, so I have to get ready to meet him in some time.
After a while, I brought to a huge hall to his presence. He was a bald old man with silky white eye brows and a long beard. He was holding a wooden staff. I found it surprising to see such an old man standing so fit and straight.