Mount Kailash, Tibet
May 11, 2007
There are countless mountain ranges throughout the world and all of them look spectacular in winter. But once your eyes have feasted on the Himalayas, then they will only long for them.
“At Heaven’s Gate” is a sneak preview to what lies ahead for travelers in the real world. This has been the cover story of the Fall issue of The Oriental Tales.
I went to heaven … But I am alive. Does that sound ambiguous? Mount Kailash located in Tibet is the gateway to paradise. Every year pilgrims travel to attain oneness with God and hope to end their cycle of rebirth. Its religious significance is strongly believed in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and in the Bora faith. The Hindus regard this place as the abode of Lord Shiva, the God of destruction and regeneration while the Tantric Buddhists believe this to be the home of Buddha Demchok. According to the Jains, their founder Rishabhadeva attained enlightenment here and the Bon religion predating Buddhism in Tibet consider this area as the center of all spiritual power.
My journey began by bus from Katmandu, Nepal. Once the immigration formalities were completed at the Chinese border then commenced the four-wheeled drive over treacherous terrains. There were no roads. This was an ideal place for trailblazers’ who believed in leaving a mark for others to follow. One had to trust the drivers’ sense of direction or had to pursue the car ahead. The pit stops each night were at various hospitable settlements. These places offered rooms that had to be shared with four people. But they provided individual beds with mattress, pillow and blanket. Generous portions of food were served at nominal rates.
Finally, on the fifth day, I reached Darchen. From here one had to start the trek or Parikrama around Mount Kailash. In Hinduism, circumambulating or walking in a clockwise direction around a temple, a sacred mountain, or a river is known as Parikrama / Pradakshina. This is done in humility and is a sign of respect towards the presiding deity. Fifty-two kilometers (thirty-two miles) was going to be a long climb in solitude, so I paid for a guide.
To my surprise, I got three guides for the price of one – Prema was my beautiful girl Friday, her five-year-old son, Thantri and their dog Ouna. Prema only understood Tibetan. Exchanging our names was easy. The rest of the journey we communicated with facial expressions and hand gestures. It was fun. A chatterbox like me managed to learn couple of things like this was her ninth trek. Then we bonded with girl talk. She liked my boots and I complimented her beautiful green pendant. She explained that the locket was made of stone found on this trail. In the beginning, the journey was enjoyable as we walked through valleys and skipped over gurgling streams.
The snow-clad Mount Kailash glistened in the morning sun, playing hide-n-seek amongst the surrounding mountain ranges. Soon, the ground started getting steeper and I was breathless. The crisp air slapped my face reminding me that if I rested too long, I would not reach the camp before nightfall.After walking six hours, I saw tents ahead. The thought of being cuddled in the soft folds of a sleeping bag was exhilarating. In my haste, to cross a stream, I lost my balance and found my foot stuck in a hole between several stones. The ice-cold water gushed into my shoe and the rapid currents were slowly pulling me along. Prema quickly got into action. She signaled that I hold Thantri’s hand and like a human chain, the mother and son pulled me out.
The frosty mountain wind added an extra chill to my already freezing bones and chattering teeth. I took off my trekking boot, two layers of woolen socks and rubbed my red, numb foot. But this luxurious foot massage was short-lived as it began to rain. Limping with the shoe in one hand and wet socks in the other, I barged inside the nearest tent. Luckily it was a rest area for travelers. The men smiled and welcomed me. I was sure they were amused seeing me hobble. I was offered some tea which tasted different. Unlike the flavor of Darjeeling or Assam tea, this tasted salty. I was explained that their tea was made from butter. For a moment, I wondered how did they extract this butter? Where did they get their milk supply? Then I realized that the only animals found in these treacherous terrains were the yaks. I decided not to get into details and enjoyed the warm drink which slowly brought color back to my cheeks. Once the rain stopped, the tents were efficiently assembled by Sherpas. Mount Kailash glimmered in the twilight sky. The snow-capped peak turned orange, then golden like the Lord’s aura. As the moon rose, its radiance engulfed the dark night with its magical blaze. I was in heaven. There was nothing that could ever match this feeling.
******
The following day was extremely challenging as I had to climb to the Dromala Pass which was at 5650 meters. Within, ten minutes of the walk, I was breathless. The icy wind parched my throat and the hot water in my flask was already half. The boulders were high and it’s surrounding stones jagged. I rested every five minutes. Then I realized that I couldn’t do it anymore. I raised my hands in the air, explaining to Prema that I wanted to quit. But she was confused. Thantri had already reached to the top like a small mountain goat and yelled out, rejoicing his success. Prema pointed at her watch and signaled that I should follow.
“Okay, I will give it another shot,” I thought. As Prema climbed, she cleared the path, placing the large stones to one side thus performing a great service for the future pilgrims. Finally, I reached Dromala Pass where prayers were being offered. The place was adorned with multi-colored flags and the fragrance of incense filled the air.The next hurdle was going down the mountain range. The steep decent would make any non-adventurer nervous. I tightly held Prema’s hand. The small stones crunched under my feet and the larger ones loosened, rolling down rapidly. I slipped several times and soon lost count. I wished that I could tumble down in greater speed and cover more area. In one of my falls, I grabbed a bush for support. Little did I know that those wild shrubs were adorned with thorns. They looked soft and velvety but when I looked at them closely, they had a mesh of spikes. The sting was excruciating. Few thorns had embedded in the skin. My palm swelled and began to itch. Prema quickly pointed to a stream. I washed my hand but that did not help.After walking for nine hours, I managed to reach the camp at sunset. Every joint in my body ached and the nerves shriveled in pain. My mind was blank. The biting wind overpowered my weary body while my itching palm was a reminder that I was still conscious. At a distance was the heaven’s gate, gleaming in the divine light, making me realize how fortunate I was to be here. Then all the pain and exhaustion melted away.
The trek on the final day was fairly easy. My mind and body were accustomed to the hardships. Prema showed me the beautiful stones similar to her pendant. I collected a bag full of them in unique shapes and sizes to take home for my friends. The walk ended in three hours. At the end of the trail, the driver was ready with the car.
Today, when I look back, I wonder how I managed all that. My family and friends say that they are glad to see me back alive. I reflect, smile and wonder.
“I guess I will die another day.”
©Nayna, 2007. All Rights Reserved.
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During 2011 August-September I got a chance to go on this trek through scenic Indian route.
I am sharing my experiences through a series of photographs and videos uploaded to YouTube at:
Kumar’s Photo Diary — Kailash Manasarovar Yatra 2011:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4064D8976802BF16
Kumar’s Video Snippets — Kailash Manasarovar Yatra 2011:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL325A66E66F88EE7E
If you like these videos, feel free to share them with all your friends through your social networks.
P.V.S. Kumar