Monday Morning blues

 

What if Monday morning blues looked something like this ?

Pangong tso – Ladakh

Travel–Some of my best lessons have come from the road

In my journey called life, I have had several teachers holding my hand, shaping my beliefs, strengthening my resolve, inspiring me to push my boundaries and helping me to learn from my mistakes. From spiritual gurus, to family , to tutors at educational institutions, to some friends and mentors, I have had many teachers. And yet, some of my best lessons in life have come from my journeys on the road. And I would like to share some of them with you.

1.Travel has helped me to shape my attitude to a large extent in the recent years. It has taught me a wee bit of patience, tolerance and an ability to take things as they come. It has made me self reliant and independent and has helped me develop a quick presence of mind and grasping power.

2. Many a time, when things go beyond me, travel has helped me to realize to accept the situation as is. It has given me confidence, a bit of resilience despite the many anxieties and the panic attacks that I have faced in life or while travelling. I am still learning to live and deal with all my fears and insecurities, but travel is helping me to shed some inhibitions along the way.

3. It has humbled me. When you walk into a large square full of people or visit an ancient monument or gaze at a mountain from the valley, you realize you are a speck in the universe. A dot whose worries and joys melt with the elements. It helps you to realize that your big ego lives and dies with you.

4.Travel has given me a strong sense of grounding rather than a fake sense of achievement or pride. It has helped me realize what I can do, what I cannot and has helped me to live and accept it. It prepares you for the best and worst in life. It helps you realize that even if you fly business class, you have to deal with turbulence.

5. Of course , travel has helped me to merge with the milieu ; I try to blend in , but I still retain my individuality. Travel has taught me to experience ; it is also adding a little layer called “experience” to me.

6. It has opened doors, widened my vistas and has given me a sense of both reality and fantasy. It has made me empathetic, rational at times and has woken the dormant “me “.

7.Travel has given me a strong sense of balance. It has taught me to be on my guard and not to try foolhardy things in the name of adventure. I push my limits, only when  I understand my body and mind completely. I have also tried to understand the atmosphere and the sensibilities around me, before attempting anything new.Travel however has also made me learn something new at every step. It has made me try new things, explore new vistas and push me beyond some boundaries.

8.Travel has taught me to accept and understand change. It has taught me to live with it. It has helped me realize that everything in life is transient, even this moment as I explore something new. It has taught me to be a bit flexible and adjust, which is a bit trying at times. It has also helped me realize that plans can always change at the last minute and I should go with the flow.

9.Travel has helped me to break some prejudices. I am still trying to accept things unconditionally but I have learnt to drop baggage and let go of some unwanted weight along the way. On a different note, I have to learnt to pack light and travel with whatever I have with me , keeping functionality as the thumb rule 

10. Most importantly travel has made me discover a new facet of me. I am my best companion when I travel. It has helped me to understand me as a person and live with my frailties and foibles.

I hope to be healthy always and be on the road all the time and keep learning, discovering..May this journey never end ..

Inside Story - Tso Moriri and its legends

Here is my inside story mutilated by the hindu today...I would recommend that you dont read it in the papers, but  here

If you ever meet a  group of tourists, travelers, backpackers and photographers who have just returned from Ladakh, try asking them the question – “ So which lake did you like  - Pangong Tso or Tso Moriri ? “ You would have probably touched upon one of the most high voltage debates ever. As decibels level rise , you realize that that these two high altitude lakes in Ladakh  have loyal fan clubs .

I visited Tso Moriri towards the last leg of my Ladakh tour after camping a night out at Pangong Tso. I was so overwhelmed by the raving reviews from friends that I decided to leave Leh rather early in the day . It started raining just as we left. .Following the Indus and her course upstream, this was my first brush with the rains in the mountains and suddenly, the Ladakh that I knew - the cold, dry desert was transformed into a green plateau.

We  were in Changthang plateau , high up above 14000 feet, in the land of the nomadic Chungpas, who brave these harsh terrains, moving settlements , finding temporary shelters, travelling around with their yaks and goats, extracting salt from lakes and exchanging salt and pashmina wool for food . Their settlements were scattered around the pastures ; we saw a few yaks and goats grazing, while a few boys looked on. 

Dorjee ,my driver spoke to a few of them who offered to show us around the rebo or the tents made of yak skin. They would probably leave when the summer ends and follow their age old trails, trying to sustain their lives and livelihoods.

However Dorjee said that some of them are now living in permanent structures, and their lifestyles have changed.  “They even have bank accounts madam, “ he exclaimed as we reached Korzok at 15000 feet near Tsomoriri. A remote village with about fifty houses and a 300 year old monastery, I caught it amidst the flurry of the tourist season. The monastery was getting ready for its festival as a few lamas were practicing their cham dance without masks or costumes though. Dorjee explained that the festival largely interpreted the victory of good over evil and the establishment of Buddhism in Ladakh. The legend goes back to the 9th century when a Buddhist monk killed king Lang dar ma who tried to uproot Buddhism in the region.

Dorjee was in a mood for more legends. But the lake was calling. Locals revered it as a sacred gift of the living planet. The azure waters sparkled liked a sea of emerald as the colours shifted from an indigo blue to sea green . The mountains formed a formidable backdrop, as the peaks  glistened with a coat of ice and snow.  

The waters seemed placid , but they had a tragic tale to tell. A young girl from Korzok , Tsomo was herding her yaks ,when one of them ran into the lake . Tsomo rushed towards the lake, yelling “ Ri Ri Ri “calling out to the yak. But as she stepped on to the ice, the waters swallowed both of them .

A sudden sand storm blew over us as we stood on the banks of the lake ,listening to the folklore. Dorjee threw a few pebbles into the lake as we watched the circles of ripples . The sun was setting and the temperature suddenly dropped and it well below 0*C . Dorjee laughed as we quivered in our jackets , “ This is summer madam, but wait for a couple of months, it will be - 30 *C . .” I walked to our tent and flapped the covers down . 

Months later, as I reminisce my Ladakh diary  , here is my verdict on the lakes . Personally I feel that they are incomparable and yes,  Tsomoriri is beautiful but my favourite will always be Pangong Tso .


Coming up soon - the experience of camping at Pangong Tso 

Inside Story - Meet Dorjee

This post is my entry for Indiblogger's  Expedia - Around the World Contest

I met Dorjee in a crowded market street in Leh.. A thin and wiry man with a weather beaten face, Dorjee seemed rather restless as he had a terse conversation with his boss and my guide, Tundup. We had just then landed in Leh and had stopped to discuss our ten day itinerary . “Dorjee will be with you from tomorrow for the whole trip, your driver and guide ,”said Tundup by way of introduction . He just nodded to us and left while Tundup escorted us to our guest house.

The sun shone right through the mountains , gently nudging us as I woke up to realize that Dorjee was already waiting for us, walking around restlessly. He was like any typical tourist driver who went about dropping us like a courier boy from one monastery to another. Tundup advised us “not to treat him like a taxi driver” but Dorjee seemed indifferent to all the conversation and chai that we offered him .

The only thing that seemed to excite him were Bollywood songs from Dil Hai Ki Manta Nahin, Aashiqui and Saajan . It was like chalk and cheese – the music he played and the mood we were in . The Indus flowed out of the barren landscape leaving us in awe , as we went ahead with the monastery circuit.

Finally Dorjee decided to have some conversation with us . He warned us not to linger too long in Kardungala as we crossed the pass at 18380 feet enroute to Nubra valley. He then told us stories of how it had been closed due to heavy snow fall a few weeks ago and several tourists were trapped enroute .

But he eventually warmed up to us when we decided to camp out at Pangong Tso with another cook in tow.  Dorjee was very excited. He started playing romantic Ladakhi songs and started grinning sheepishly as he translated the corny lines to us. He told us about his family back home in Zanskar and the baby his wife is expecting. He was to visit them later in winter when the tourist season ends here.

The weather changed like Dorjee’s mood. The sun gave way to rains and it became a wee bit cold too. Dorjee stopped in the middle of the mountains and we had our breakfast – hot steamy momos, prepared by our cook. He took us to see the marmots and was very excited to see the black necked cranes.  We reached Pangong and Dorjee was the first to get off the jeep and set up the tents. He was agile, filled with insatiable energy and a never say die attitude.

Our driver had  become a travel companion. But we saw the real Dorjee – the man who packed a punch in his wiry frame,  a tough and strong man who would brave anything .

It happenned on the fag end of our Ladakh trip when we were returning to Leh via Tso kar .We had just entered the Taglang la pass at 17,500 feet when it started to snow. While I started taking photographs , Dorjee frowned. Coming from a man who would throw caution to the winds, the frown meant trouble. He urged us to get into the jeep and we barely crossed the pass when the snow storm started. Dorjee spied a truck on the opposite end struggling its way.

 We stopped and so did the truck. A bus with the local police force arrived behind us They walked around and threw up their hands .The snow filled up the roads steadily as more vehicles piled up on either side. It slowly became an hour and then many hours.  Dorjee shrugged when we asked him our chances. He said nonchalantly either the truck had to be thrown into the valley or we would have to wait and it could be days if the storm did not subside .  But we sensed the worry in his voice. Suddenly he lost patience.

He stepped out into the storm amidst our protests. Then I saw him through my binoculars, there was our man in  a cap, wearing a  thin navy blue jacket and ordinary shoes removing the snow from the road with his own hands.  Some foreigners joined him and they picked up a crude instrument. We offered to join him, but he told us to head back to the jeep.  Many hours later the road was cleared by Dorjee and a troop of men, while the police and other tourists sat in the jeeps and watched . “ Happens all the time, but you are my responsibility, ‘ he said, dusting the snow from his jacket as he got into the jeep.

However Dorjee did not just save the day - he just displayed what a Ladakhi spirit is.." madam, all of us locals..we fought in the kargil war..do you know that ..? was his parting shot as we drive down hill.

This story was published in my column, Inside Story in Metro Plus 

Lakes of Ladakh - Skywatch Friday

One of the main reasons I wanted to go to Ladakh was to camp at these high altitude lakes. Nestled at heights of 15000 feet and more, Ladakh's lakes - Pangongtso, Tsomoriri and Tsokar are completely secluded from human habitation, but for a few villages like Spangmik and Korzuk near Pangong and Tsomoriri respectively.

The other attraction was of course, the birds that breed here- black necked crane included. The three lakes are completely different from each other, in terms of landscape and you cant be satisfied with seeing just one.

Sharath and I camped in Pangong , where we took our own tents and had a cook along with us, who prepared some of the best momos Ive ever had.

In Tsomoriri , we were less adventurous, where we stayed in a camp , but it soon touched -2 and we were freezing .

We had a very brief glimpse of Tsokar, which looked completely different from the other two lakes. But there were several wildasses here . You can see my post on them here. 

There was a fourth lake that we encountered on the way to Tsomoriri and  it looked like a mystery lake - greenish blue , with absolutely no one around. '

For more brilliant skies around the world, click here 

Inside Story - Nubra Valley, Ladakh

“ Just 20 minutes , “ warns Dorjee , my driver as we finally reach the summit at 18380 feet  . Stepping out into the cold, I realize that Khardungla pass looks like any other tourist destination . Patches of snow cover the dry mountains.  The shutterbugs are all around, capturing the moment for posterity. Looking down , I see the treacherous roads snaking their way up, bringing a group of adventure tourists on bikes and bicycles . But Dorjee’s warning , I realize , is real. Although I have no trace of altitude sickness, my head is rather giddy with excitement. I look hurriedly for a dry toilet and then continue with my journey. 

The starkness of the landscape becomes more pronounced as we drive down one of the ancient trading routes.

However as we plunge downhill, the landscape changes dramatically. Dorjee  says we are lucky. “ The road was closed last week due to heavy snow.” We look around and see the Karakoram range around us, the Siachen glacier in the distance and the river Shyok flowing beside us.  

Some desert flowers bloom here and there , as  Dorjee calls it Ldumra or his valley of flowers . The Shyok joins the Nubra or the Siachen river and creates a lush valley here filled with apricot and apple orchards. The altitude drops suddenly and we are amidst sand dunes.  Bactrian camels  make a surreal appearance here against the setting sun , as we stop by to take in the moment.

We head to Diskit ,  where a 14^th century monastery awaits us. Dorjee gives us a brief introduction about the various orders practiced by the lamas here. Most monasteries he says  are either founded by the Drug-pa or the red hats or the Gelug-pa or the yellow hats . Diskit monastery was  founded by Changzem Tserab Zangpo, a disciple of Tsong Khapa, founder of Gelug-pa order. 

We climb up the stairs, a bit breathless and see a mighty Maitreya , some fierce guardian deities and a wonderful fresco of the Tashilhunpo Gompa of Tibet. A huge drum catches our attention. Dorjee explains that the monastery celebrates the  Festival of the Scapegoat or Desmochhey with a mask dance that depicts the victory of good over evil . He then goes on to narrate the story of a Mogul demon who haunts this Gompa even after he was killed. Locals believe that the Gonkhang or the temple of the guardians still houses his wrinkled head and arm .

I shiver a bit, more out of the cold and head to Hundar, a charming hamlet by the river side with mani walls and chortens scattered all around.  The capital of the ancient Nubra kingdom, Hundar houses the Chamba Gompa and is probably one of the last few Indian villages before the Pakistan border. Small streams and waterfalls make it  the only oasis in this cold desert. I walk up to a prayer wheel , probably the last in the Indian border and wish for peace.

To read more of the story , click here

When nature strikes

My trip to Leh _Ladakh last year was made memorable, not just because of the landscapes, but due to some wonderful people I met during my stay there. Ive left behind so many friends there and my heart goes out to the many tourists and residents of Leh who have battled nature's fury . I dedicate my entire trip to the people of leh , who are always ever so smiling and courteous

Passes of Ladakh

Breathlessness and Ladakh go hand in hand. If the views do not stun you with their stark harsh beauty, the heights will definitely make you go breathless. It is little wonder then that Ladakh is called the land of the mountain passes . Through out our many journeys around this mountain kingdom, we pass through several passes, however three of them stay in my mind .

Khardungla  is apparently one of the the highest motorable mountain road at 18,380  feet in India . This is the gateway to the Nubra and the Shyok valleys and although the pass is hardly 39 kms from Leh, it would take you at least a couple of hours to reach to the top.

 It was bright with blue skies when we reached there and filled with people, who presumed its a picnic spot, despite warnings not to stay outside for than 20 mins 

Changla  is the next, which I crossed on the 5th day of my stay in Ladakh. This pass , named after a saint is at 17590 and is enroute to Pangong Tso. We had our breakfast somewhere on the mountain roads, just before we climbed uphill towards the pass. You would meet a few nomadic tribes here, who are known as Changpa .The weather was already cloudy and foggy with chill breeze giving us a shiver now and then. We quickly used the rest rooms, which were tented pits and rushed to have breakfast as we climbed downhill.

Tanglang la , which is on the Manali - Leh route is almost as high as Changla and we crossed this pass on the last day of our trip when we were returning to Leh from Tso Moriri via Tso Kar. After ten days of sunshine and rain, it decided to snow, just as we were entering the pass and within minutes of us crossing the pass, we encountered a snow storm and a road block. A combination of prayers and some dare devilry by our driver Dorjee, brought us safely home to Leh. You can read about our misadventure here 

Here are some of the skies from at high altitudes..To see more wonderful skies, visit Skywatch 

The sunset at Pangong Tso

I cant get over Ladakh. Even though its almost nine months since I went there, the mind still lingers there. These are the evening colors at Pangong Tso, my favourite lake in Ladakh. We pitched our tents here and camped here overnight and it was one of the most amazing experiences ever. The waters would have changed colours a million times before the sun cast its hues on it..Ive almost an entire album of Pangong Tso..you can view some of the pictures here

To see more brilliant skies, click here

Inside Story - Cha TungTung Karbo

We are driving through the mountains in Ladakh, listening to local music and our driver Dorjee turns out to be a die hard romantic. As the landscape changes, Dorjee gets a bit emotional talking about his family in Zanskar and the baby he is expecting in a few months. And then he goes on an impromptu karoke session and sings out aloud . I ask him to translate the lyrics and he complies with a grin.

The chortens and the mani wheels whizz past us . The music suddenly changes and Dorjee is a bit silent. I tease him and he interrupts me in Hindi, “ This is not a romantic song madam, its a poem by Tsangyang Gyatso, our 6th Dalai Lama.” Dorjee does not elaborate further as we drive towards the lake Panggong Tso .

We spot a bit of green as we near the wetlands. And then something moves . The birder in me comes alive as I gesture to Dorjee to stop. “ Cha Tungtung karbo, madam..never seen them near Panggong before, “ he says as I move closer to take a picture of the black necked cranes .The national bird of Kashmir is a large whitish grey bird and has a black head, red crown patch , black upper neck and legs and a white patch near the eye. Another car stops by and we spend some silent moments clicking away.

Then Dorjee breaks the silence. “Cha means bird and tung tung karbo is long legged and white. That song madam, “ he says referring to the earlier melody “is a poem on the white crane . It talks about the rebirth of the Dalai Lama who was believed to have been murdered .”Cranes do have a spiritual significance in Buddhism as they symbolize marital longetivity. In fact I read later they have their own monastery and festival in Bhutan where they return every year.

Back home, I spoke to Gopi Sundar from the international crane foundation . I learnt that these Tibetan cranes visit Ladakh probably from the river valleys of Tibet for breeding between June and September. “When the snow melts, you will find these birds coming in pairs, marking their territories and dancing- a part of their hormonal activity. You would probably find 30 nests here, “ he says adding the remaining 60-70 are non breeders. The chicks later fly with their parents who are fiercely protective, guarding them from feral dogs. “Real estate is a serious issue here, “ says Gopi referring to the loss of habitat for these cranes as wetlands become lesser and tourism increases as well. Its tough life to be a crane now , “ he laughs. Listening to him, I go back to the walks around the lakes where Dorjee treated us to the prophetic song and dedicated it to his family

White crane, lovely bird,
Lend me your wings!
I'm not going far and away,
I'll return through the land of Litang.

Peacocks from the east of India,
Parrots from the lower Kongpo area!
Though (their) birthplaces are different,
(Their) meeting-place is Lhasa, the land of Dharma wheels.

The willow lost its heart to the bird,
The bird lost its heart to the willow!
If affection concords in harmony,
The hawk cannot overpower (them).

This is one of the stories published in my column, Inside Story in the Metro Plus. I thank Karthikeyan, chief naturalist of JLR who put me in touch with his friend Gopi Sundar , an authority on cranes. As a birder, I was keen on spotting this bird which is believed to be found only here in Ladakh besides a few in Arunachal Pradesh. You can otherwise spot them in Bhutan and Tibet among other places. I was lucky to see a couple enroute to Panggong Tso at a much closer distance than the ones I saw in Tso Kar.

Inside Story - Shey

Standing amidst the countless chortens or stupas that are scattered around Shey, I heard a foreign tourist narrate a story to her reluctant daughter, who was refusing to climb up the steps leading to the ruined palace of the Ladakhi kings.

And that’s where I heard about the Epic of king Gesar or Kesar as Ladakhis refer to the legendary Tibetan hero sent by the Gods to defeat demons. The mythical gLing ruled by Kesar could possibly be Shey, the capital of the ancient Ladakh kingdom. Even today there are a few artistes around Ladakh and Tibet who can sing their own versions of the 1000 year old ballad.

Located about 14 kms from Leh, Shey ,situated at a height of 11000 feet is now a small village on the banks of the Indus. Tourists flock by here to see the ancient fortifications, palace and the monastery that houses an imposing idol of Sakyamuni, the form of Buddha worshipped by the Sakya clan of saints.

Glittering in copper and gilded gold, this is one of the largest statues in Ladakh built by the king Senggee Namgyal. The lama here tells us that four craftsmen were specially brought from Nepal by Gyal Katun,the king’s mother to create this deity here . “As they had married locally, they were not allowed entry into Nepal, and so even today, their descendants live in a small village called Chiling ,” he says.

The sun is merciless and I collect my breath after having climbed the hillock where the monastery is housed. A row of prayer wheels, mani walls and chortens fill the landscape as I look down .Several dynasties have ruled Shey besides the mythical hero Kesar and his descendants. However historically, Ladakh came under Tibetan rule around the 10th century when Nyima Gon , established his empire here and built probably a few chortens in Shey.

It is ironic, said the lama I was chatting with ,that Tibet itself was in a turmoil after Nyima Gon’s grandfather, king Lang Darma was murdered by a seer for apparently persecuting Buddhists .

The flags flutter in the breeze while the shutterbugs are busy taking pictures of the valley below. I am told the monastery here was built much later by the Namgyal rulers. The lama tells me that somewhere in the middle of 16th century, Ladakh was a divided kingdom ruled from both Shey and Basgo. The king from Basgo , Bhagan deposed the Shey ruler and titled himself Namgyal or Victorious. It was during this dynasty’s reign that power slowly shifted from Shey to Leh, with a palace being built in Leh. And like any erstwhile capital, town, Shey slowly lost its strategic significance .

“When the Nangyals finally lost power to the Kashmir kings and to Mughals, Shey was abandoned .” There was a ring of finality in his tone .I see the tourists rotating the prayer wheel as they climb up. Shey is now just another must see in their sightseeing list .

Published in my column, Inside Story in the Metro Plus, The Hindu

Creatures of Ladakh - The Kiangs

The kiangs or the Tibetan wild ass abound in Ladakh. We saw quite a few of them near Tso Kar kicking up the dust or grazing around. One particular incident touched us. The kiangs were in a circle near the base of the mountain and I was told by my driver they were mourning the death of one of them.We didnt take the picture of this private moment , but we took quite a few of them as they stared at us before gallopping away

The fleet footed kiangs are seen in herds and there are several in a herd - which can even go up to 300. I learnt that they are very good swimmers and enjoy lakes around grasslands .To read more about the Kiang, click here