I spent most of my childhood and teenage years in small towns of Rajasthan. Rajasthan is one of the 29 states of united India, which is known for its large barren and deserted land spread over its western regions (Thar Desert). Though the towns, I grew up, are close to the national capital (New Delhi), they still remain largely unaffected by the capital's multi-cultural flavor. The historical architectures, built centuries ago, still stand tall in the middle of modern structural changes. The art, language and culture, by and large, are well preserved and celebrated by the contemporary generations. The people of Indian small towns are so content and appreciate all aspects of life without much complains. I was no exception. I didn't look much outside of my own home town. Like many, I believed that my native town was the best place in the world. I must admit that that belief was entirely based on our unconditional love for our home towns and not at all built on any international rankings considering the important parameters of quality of life. We didn't even care if those rankings existed.
In the back of my mind, I always knew that India is an environmentally rich (eco-rich forests, mountain ranges, seas and deserts) country, though I never valued this fact until I left India for pursuing higher education. I knew about the great Himalayan range, mainly because my grandma used to tell me stories about its connections with notable Hindu deities. The Himalayan range has a number of Hindu religious places, where many pilgrims across the country journey to. My grandma once narrated me a tale about Lord Shiva and his wife Devi Parvati, who still live in the Himalayas as a white-pigeon couple. She concluded her story by saying that those who travel to their home in the Himalayas and discern the bird couple visually can directly make it to heaven. I believed that story and many other which revolved around Himalayas. I didn't develop any scientific temper by then and I am sure that even if I had questioned, my grandma would have discarded me. The stories were fascinating and became the reason I decided to travel to the Himalayas at least once in my life time.
The worst part of being in such small towns is that the people don't explore much knowledge about the places outside their towns. Their knowledge, perceptions and experiences were only based on living there and interacting with like-minded folks. People don't read books and watch documentaries. After work, social gatherings and TV entertainment are the most common time-pass. The kids, like me, paid a huge price for that. In my final years of schools, I firmly believed that getting an engineering degree was the only way forward. I was not encouraged to explore other career choices. It is ironic that the global recession during 2007-09 helped me to motivate for further studies. I made a well-informed choice and got into one of the best technical institutes of India.
I was also successful to get German research scholarship (DAAD) to pursue my master thesis at the Prof. Manfred Buchroithner's high-mountain research group in Dresden, Germany.
THAT RESEARCH STAY CHANGED THE DISCOURSE OF MY LIFE.
I was first time abroad. Being too far from my native place and especially working in Manfred's group helped me expanding my horizons. I started looking at India like never before. I started valuing the Himalayas more than its religious importance. It was astonishing to know that the Himalaya is a home of thousands of glaciers (active frozen ice) and their socio-political importance in the region.
I was lucky that I got a chance to pursue my PhD work on the similar topic. It was to study glacier changes of the Himalayas using satellite remote sensing. I was so thrilled to experience downloading and visualizing those satellite images, which capture very detail information of the Himalayas. In my office in Germany and thousands of miles from the Himalayas, I could see how glaciers, lakes, rivers and rocks are so well connected and interact with each other. I spent almost four years on the scientific questions related to Himalayan glaciers and the satellites helped me to answer those questions. The technology down-scaled the large scale Himalayas on a piece of paper in my office, but I was always curious to get into the real scales of the great Himalayas. I built a strong relationship with the study regions of Himalaya. I knew the trek routes, names, sizes and flow patterns of many glaciers thanks to Google Earth and satellite images, I processed.
The Himalaya, for me, is a real life character with multiple roles to play. It directs Indian summer monsoon winds, provides home to many glaciers and river channels, protects political enemies of the country etc. As dramatic as may sound, I felt that the great Himalaya was not happy with me because I couldn't pay a single visit to him despite my attempts to do so. There was not much scientific motivation to visit the Himalayas. Also a part of me was not sure whether I could be in those harsh environments at such high altitudes (>3000 m above sea level).
AND IT FINALLY HAPPENED IN OCTOBER 2018. I visited the Badrinath-Mana region of the Himalayas. I was mentally and physically prepared for that. Badrinath is a Hindu pilgrimage surrounded by snow-covered mountain peaks. It is located at 3200 m above sea level. I was surprised to see many old people visiting the Badrinath temple. It's a common belief that visiting Badrinath temple is a must-do thing before you die and that belief has motivated thousands of people to go there every year. I couldn't believe that I reached the Himalayan mountains within 16 hours from the flat plains. I woke up at 6 on the first morning and caught a golden view of snow-covered peaks- a result of the incident light of rising Sun. The village in the valley was still dark.
I met with amazing people from the village. I was amazed to see that people are not miserable without internet, limited phone connections and other technological influences, unlikely in the urban world. They offered me tea consisting of local natural herbs. Organic farming is just a normal practice there. The village is completely shut for 6 months a year, which means no business for that period as everybody has to retreat to lower catchments. They were still happy and relaxed.
Early morning in Badrinath village |
I am on the large boulder lying there for years |
After acclimatizing for nearly 36 hours, together with a colleague and two Nepalese trekkers, I trekked almost 10 km to the higher catchments close to Satopanth Glacier. It took me 4.5 hours to reach the base camp located at 3900 m above sea level.
That trek unfolded many answers to the mysteries and myths I had about the Himalayas. I could evidence how different components of nature (glacier, rock, debris, river, lake etc.) are well aligned with each other. My perspectives had changed because of the scales I encountered. After covering half of the distance for nearly 2 hours, it felt like I didn't even start. Everything looked static. I felt so dwarf in the middle of the mountains. What if I died here and no one noticed? That thought scared me.
I came into contact with many large boulders, which remained like that for thousands of years and were unaffected by my presence. The flowing Alaknanda river was responsibly performing its duties to transfer meltwater from glaciers and snow cover to lower catchments. This is an important aspect of the Himalayan glaciers which provide extra water for irrigation, drinking and power generation during the months of no monsoonal rain.
Interaction between mountain peaks and clouds |
I am crossing the temporary man-made bridge to cross flowing water of Alaknanda river |
I am at the glacier terminus, while Alaknanda river is originating from Satopanth Glacier |
There were signs of glacier retreat. It seemed like the glacier was so scared of people like me and didn't want to see me. I reached the glacier and suddenly felt that the glacier confronted me "Look, I have been here for many years, but your actions in those cities have adversely affected me and many like me across the world. Remember, we all are connected. Now I have no other option but to vanish in the years to come. Hope you become more responsible in the future."
I could not answer. That night I couldn't sleep. It was very dark and silent. Such darkness I never experienced before. I was trying to find an answer but the silence was broken in every 15 minutes due to continuous rock avalanches.