April 9, 2019
Dear Annapurna,
Your snowcapped peaks blind me in awe. Your elevation strikes me with vertigo, swaying my mind, body and soul with amazement. Your splendor is like a dream with an icy touch, deadly to unfortunate travelers passing by in a moment of climate uncertainty. The rhythm of my step keeps my being in check. One foot in front of the other, slowly trekking through the central region of your brothers and sisters; the Napalese Himalayas. I am greeted by furry friends inhabiting your tough soil, munching the days away in the chilled sunlight, 4,900 meters above sea level. A trek of unpredictability many refer to it as, your circuit has taken many lives, but has renewed many hearts, are you aware of this? Is it your intention? Some even say the feeling is “cleansing.” But what is that cathartic feeling I wonder to myself, is it due the discovery of your unimaginable jaw-dropping beauty? Or the energy of the Hindu temples and the Buddhist stupas nestled along your rocky coat reminding one of karmic reciprocity? Or is it the relinquishing of tears from achy bones, and altitude illness? Is it the chill of icy winds piercing through the core of trekkers? Or the thrill of your avalanches and spontaneity of your landslides pinning a sensation of adrenaline and fear released into a human’s bloodstream? I myself find it addictive. What is it about your mountains that attract so many to embark on a journey of uncertainty. Is it your novelty? In the midst of your current tectonic motion? Curiosity drew me in, I must admit.
My thoughts mesh together as thoughts often do. I continue to trek. One foot in front of the other repeating a mantra I learned years ago from a close friend, “Ra Ma Da Sa, Sa Say So Sum.. Ra Ma Da…” I walk with the awareness of those who walked before me. Traveling through your veins as weariness travels through mine. With each step a release
of tension escapes through my breath. Surrounded by your natural beauty and indescribable magnitude, I feel microscopic. A sensation of humility washes over me. I feel as though I am a speck of dirt next to those around me, becoming a part of your mountain side. I smile at the yak who munches a greeting in my direction and the donkey who grunts as I pass by, following the trails of the Marsyangdi River, I continue in silence. I nod in acknowledgement at the porters passing by, as they balance bags of great quantities, with straps wrapped around their heads. Many trek barefoot. From the villages of Tal, Dharapani, Chame, Pisang, Manang, and Khangsar. I am in awe. I look down bashfully at my leather hiking boots, I am a foreigner. Why have I come to you? I ask myself in thought. What is my purpose? I continue on.
“Namaste,” a saying exchanged periodically between people passing by and myself. It is a greeting, derived from a salutation in the Vedas, used to greet divinities. Even though I feel like an outsider, the warm smiles upon the faces of those living on your mountainside make me feel welcome. I am curious. The energy that envelops me is surreal, it is almost as if I can hear you whisper to me a word of peace, I feel a shift within myself, I am filled with gratitude. Do you feel as alive as the stream bubbling down your spine? Or as alive as my spirit? In the essence of your natural phenomena I feel my own purging of repressed emotions being released into the safety of your arms, please know I am hugging you too. As my energy is entangled with yours and purified by the water of Tilicho, I will forever be grateful to have met you, and I will forever smile as I remember this moment.
May your magnificence and wisdom live on, till we meet again. Namaste. R.T.
