Hotel Firdous, Leh, Ladakh
Peering out over the barren landscape. Houses made from the surrounding stone, blending in harmoniously with the light brown cliffside, Om Ma Ni Padme Hum prayer flags draped from one rocky hill to the next. Stupas and prayer wheels line the block. Crossing paths with residents with beautiful smiles and souls. Climbed to Castle Tsemo where 600 year old paintings cover the walls. I stood alone, in the silent room, feeling the energy of the monks who sat in this very room before me.
7-6-15 Hotel Firdous Leh, Ladakh
As David did Goliath, a generation overcomes the odds. Simplicity, their humble aprons soiled, suddenly rise to the sky’s limitation, civilization uniformly grasps this understanding of connectedness.
Dream communal vibes. Wave hi to children in the distance with an exaggerated rocking of the shoulders, flapping the elbow side to side. Celebrate seemingly meaningless traditions and rituals.
Mira and I met like we did in the days of yesteryear, arranging a time and place to meet at the entrance to Leh’s polo grounds. We hiked up to the Shanti Stupa, stopping occasionally to catch our breath and marvel at the stunning views from the top. Later, we enjoyed Tibetan momos and more great conversation at the Zen Garden Restaurant and Dreamland Restaurant.
When our plans to take SUV taxis over Khardung La to Nubra Valley fell through, we created our own luck flagging down each car attempting to catch a ride when along came two experienced-looking motorcycle drivers with extra gas tanks strapped to their pristine Royal Enfield bikes. Jose and Mahesh agreed to take us up the pass.
As the weather took a turn for the worst, we made lemons from lemonade and celebrated Jose’s 24th birthday in glorious fashion as he meticulously carved a cake made of snow topped with chocolate cereal bits forming “24.” When we were informed that no motorcycles could cross the pass, a group of army guys invited us to an enclosed gazebo for tea and biscuits.
8-6-15 Hotel Firdous Leh, Ladakh
If one visits places with beautiful vistas regularly while awake, do dreams become more scenic? Undeterred, we decided to change our destination to Pangong Lake and hopped on the motorcycles with Mahesh and Jose, the drivers. The journey was challenging, with difficult road conditions and freezing temperatures, but Mahesh’s skillful driving and my trust in him helped us make it to the Chang La pass at an altitude of 5,320m. The views of Pangong Lake, with its hues of blue and green and its reflections of the mountains, were breathtaking. The trip back to Leh was difficult, with sleet and strong winds, and the bike struggled to intake enough air at such high altitudes. It was a challenging journey, but also a rewarding and unforgettable experience.
As we climbed to the top, the frigid winds made it difficult to stay warm in my inadequate attire. My fingers were sore from gripping the seat handle tightly as we navigated around boulders and rough road conditions.
Despite the challenges, my trust in Mahesh’s driving abilities grew as he expertly maneuvered the bike around obstacles, using his feet to maintain balance. The road conditions worsened as we ascended, and I couldn’t help but let out an “ugh” of discomfort at the jolts caused by the divots in the road. Without eye protection, the snow pelted my eyes, so I closed them and trusted in Mahesh, who told me about his family’s caste known for being warriors and protectors of kings and queens.
When we reached the Chang La pass at an altitude of 5,320m, we stopped for warmth and supplies. I laugh uncontrollably as Mahesh struggled to raise his Chai cup, his hands trembling from the cold. Hues of blues and greens, the mountains reflected off Pangong Lake, which shares its water with China and India.
On the way back to Leh, the sleet and strong winds made it feel like we were in a scene from “The Motorcycle Diaries.” The high altitude made it difficult for the bike to intake enough air, and we had to push start it. At such high altitudes, the bike struggled to intake sufficient air, requiring a push start. My own tank emptied, good for only 100 meters of jogging at a time. The challenges of the journey showed me the harsh realities of life, and made me more determined to show compassion and create positivity in the face of greed.
9-6-15 Hotel Firdous Leh, Ladakh
Standing innocent in the world, fathers beg beside children. Palaces crumble to dust. Repetitious banter, fill the heart’s void. Teachers reap ripple effects, a positive ending awaits, the official unveiling of a life force beyond imagination, few grasp the depth of the inner search, fewer still see the return on investment for idleness.
Shall I start an engine or shall I start an inspired generation, fueled by the desire to simplify obtaining the needs within the material world. And longing, desperately searching for unconditional compassion, the gentlest of smiles, defining duty when the sun rises, controlling reactions until the mind narrows. Create words with scribbles, intensely focused mind, repeated mantras, sending physical vibrations to those who pass.
A hum or a tune rippled forth, spreading its chorus pulse throughout the mismanaged masses. Shelters from the storm arisen from the misunderstood unity among all forms of life, both past and present, and believing in the passing of whatever potential energy this being stores through the unlikely course of a horribly misdirected mind.
Into the future when the world recognizes why such seemingly irrational decisions ultimately resulted in comprehensive gains forming a house of cards too sturdy to waver in the face of adversity. The individual recognizes the futility of this concept of separateness. A common goal, pulling together, awareness, universal truth seekers setting out for the morning stroll, wondering if this feeling within will spread, how to broadcast its signal, penetrate generations of superficial borders, customs and socialized constructs. What we think we become. Think of us as one.
