And so we walked.
The slope was slippery with mud and rain. We grabbed the rocks desperately with both hands as we crawled upward. The progress was slow, but the end was in sight. The last exhausted heave brought Faul Pani into sight. All our exhaustion was washed away by the sight of a clump of tents precariously clinging to the slope as if gravity had been temporarily suspended. We fertilised the fields and got ready for supper.
And so we walked.
We crossed streams, rivers and ravines. We crawled under rocks. We climbed with our hands. We heaved ourselves stupidly on a grassy stretch. Zirmi was at hand. We were given the first sight of what was to come. What we all came here for. The peak was at hand. Later that evening, we greeted the arrival of the Hero of the Day. At night, an intrepid three of us marched into the pitch blackness of the night to the tent of the guides. It began to rain.We watched the rain drop-drop on the small fire that burnt through the rain. We watched the little flicks of the flame dance in step to their conversation. We understood not a word, but we knew the talks were happy talks.
And so we walked.
The pink of the rhododendron, the bright green of the fresh grass, the dark green of the pine needles, the dirty brown white of week old snow. We quietly filed past them all. The pines disappeared one by one. We didn't notice it. Next was the grass. We finally walked past the last of the rhododendron. We had our heads down and we put our feet forward. It was stupid of us. A thick mist enveloped us. The crunch-crunch of the snow beneath our feet was comforting as we cleared the mist and reached our camp. Tila lotni showed us the peak in all her beauty.
And so we walked.
Being the first to leave your foot print on fresh snow. Of fouling the virginal purity of the undisturbed soft white blanket on the ground. We exploited every opportunity we got. We walked and slid and slid and walked. We were sweating while our feet were freezing. We walked twelve hours in the bright snow. We finally crossed Sar pass and climbed Biskeri top. We slid down about a kilometre to hot chai waiting for us. And we made our way through thick pine forests to Biskeri.
And so we walked.
We lost our way. Some of us gave up and started blaming some of us who hadn't given up. People went in all directions looking for a way. We found one. Bandhak tatch welcomed us. The bright green of the grassland invited us to fertilise them. And we did, for the first time the temperature was above zero degrees. Some of us could work up the courage to. It was surrounded by gleaming white peaks like the tourist brouchers. We didn't want to leave but we had to.
And so we hope to keep on walking.
