“Gar firdaus, bar-rooy-e zameen ast, hamin asto, hamin asto, hamin ast.”
Meaning: “If there is a paradise on this earth somewhere, here it is, here it is, here it is.”
I had read these lines, written by Amir Khusrau, before. Beautiful words, beautiful meaning. But experiencing them for myself? That wasn’t even on my mind anytime soon.
Until Ladakh happened.
The place I wanted to run away from, and then never wanted to leave.
“No, I want to go back!” Aditi shouted at her friend.
“Why don’t you understand? My body is shivering, my heart is beating at 160 BPM, and I CAN’T BREATHE!” she cried out loud. “I’m taking the first flight tomorrow and going back home.”
“I shouldn’t have said yes to this trip. I keep digging my own grave. Fuck this. I’m going!”
Her friend stood in the corner of the room, watching her lose it, probably wondering whether she was PMSing or simply regretting every life decision that had brought her there.
“Aditi, just breathe.”
“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” he repeated, as if the word alone could somehow fix everything. To be fair, consoling people wasn’t exactly his forte.
Outside, the temperature had dropped to -8°C. They were staying in a tent in the remote stretches of the Zanskar Valley, where the wind was blowing so fiercely that Aditi genuinely feared the entire tent might be blown away. There was nothing around for kilometres, no hospital, no easy escape, and certainly no airport within a reasonable distance.
By morning, her hair had practically frozen stiff. And yet, her decision remained unchanged: she was going home at the first opportunity.
Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) had hit her hard. The sudden altitude, the thin air, the headache, the breathlessness — her body was having a rather spectacular meltdown. The rest of the group was struggling with the altitude too, but Aditi, being a little more dramatic than the average human, was convinced she was having the worst time of her life.
And honestly, at that moment, she might have been.
But here’s the thing about Aditi. She’s the kind of person who rarely says no to an adventure. The strong, independent, I’ll-figure-it-out-later kind. Except right now, she was neither feeling particularly strong nor independent. She was sick, exhausted, frightened, and entirely dependent on everyone around her.
Still, there was that little thing inside her. That chull. That inexplicable itch to see what lay beyond the next mountain, even when every sensible part of her wanted to turn around.
Their Ladakh journey had begun in the remote Zanskar Valley, with Gombo Ranjan as one of the first places on their itinerary. Gombo Ranjan is a striking, isolated rock formation in the Zanskar region, revered by locals and often described as a naturally formed sacred mountain.
From there, the group headed towards Phuktal Monastery, which required a trek of roughly seven to eight kilometres.
Under normal circumstances, Aditi would have been the first to get excited about a trek. She was the kind of person who rarely backed down from an adventure. But this time, she was unwell.
Still, she didn’t want to be the person waiting alone in the traveller for everyone to be back. That familiar chull kicked in, and she decided to go ahead with the trek.
The valleys opened up like paintings that someone had spent an eternity perfecting.
The mountains stood tall, each with its own textures, colours, and contours, almost as though they had personalities of their own and stories to tell.
The water was a shade of blue she had never seen before. A blue so clear and surreal that none of the blues she knew could quite compare.
The wind was cold and dry. The sky was clear, like a fresh canvas waiting to be painted, and the sun shone brighter than she had ever imagined. Everything felt so vast, so untouched, that for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to have disappeared.
Somewhere along the trail, she found herself forgetting about the discomfort, She kept walking.
One step at a time, she made her way through the valleys, seeing the sheer beauty of a landscape she had never experienced before.
And then, after roughly eight kilometres, they reached Phuktal Monastery.
The monastery was a piece of art in itself.
Built into the face of a mountain, it looked almost unreal, as though it had grown out of the rock. The structure blended so naturally into its surroundings that it was difficult to imagine how people had built something so extraordinary. It was a remarkable display of human creativity, patience, and devotion.
Aditi didn’t know much about Buddhist culture, but she could observe and appreciate what she saw.
Colourful prayer flags fluttered in the wind, carrying prayers and blessings into the open air. Prayer wheels lined the pathway, inscribed with sacred mantras and traditionally turned as part of Buddhist spiritual practice.
And then there were the people.
Some of the warmest, kindest people Aditi had ever met. They offered her butter tea, a drink unlike anything she had tasted before.
And somewhere between the mountains, the monastery, the prayer flags, and the kindness of strangers, something shifted.
She had spent the previous night planning her escape. Now, all she could think about was bringing her favourite people here someday, just so they could see what she was seeing.
Some places are too beautiful to keep to yourself.
Funny how quickly a place can change your mind.
And so, the journey continued.
That very evening, the group headed towards Padum, the main town and administrative centre of the Zanskar region.
The roads wound through vast, rugged landscapes. The mountains changed shape and colour as the light shifted. Aditi kept looking out of the window, trying to take it all in.
By evening, they reached their homestay in Padum. After the previous night’s ordeal, she knew another freezing night awaited her. And yes, it was going to be in a tent again.
A tent. Again.
But this time, she had made peace with it. Anything for a view like this.
The cold was still there, but exhaustion got the better of her. This time, she fell asleep before she could complain about it.
Next stop: Kargil…
Sharing some snapshots here (without any filter) :)))))))
