Another Mountain Epiphany

I heard the wind whisper to me as I made my way up to the peak. It takes time to develop an ear to listen to it and oh, how it speaks to you.

It began as a mere rustle, a playful tug at my hair, a mischievous caress against my skin. I was in the midst of the majestic mountains at Afarwat, Kashmir, 4,900 meters above sea level, with humongous clouds dominating the background. The world below, a patchwork quilt of green and brown, looked like a miniature masterpiece from this height.

Enthusiastically, I climbed upward; the higher I climbed, the more the world seemed to tilt, as if gravity itself was losing its grip. Then, a shift. The initial rocks, once a comforting boundary, faded into the mist. The last vestiges of human habitation — a distant trail, a hiker’s tent, the shops — vanished over the horizon. The familiar contours of existence began to blur when I suddenly realized that there was no visible human life in sight. The world, as I knew it, had fallen away.

I was alone. Utterly, completely, undeniably alone. And yet, in this solitude, there was a profound sense of freedom. A liberation from the weight of human-made noise, from the relentless demands of society. It was as if I had stepped off the stage of life’s grand drama and into the wings, where the only audience was the wind and the sky. That’s when I first heard her. Like an old friend, the wind whispered secrets of these mountains, carrying the echoes of peace that seemed to seep into my soul.

I leaned into her embrace, letting her push me forward when the trail turned steep. Her breath was a rhythm against my skin, a steady drumbeat that countered the solitude. Sometimes, it was a playful tug at my hair or whip around my ankles like a mischievous child. I raised my arms to the sky, and she became my dance partner, whirling me in an ecstatic performance. Other times, she was a silent confidant, sharing the mountain’s secrets in hushed undertones. With each step higher, the world shrank and she grew bolder.

As I climbed further, the air got thinner, and my breath heavier. Each breath a conscious effort, and with every strained breath, the peak seemed to mock me, growing larger, more defiant. The further I walked, the farther it went. Halfway to the summit, reality struck: no water, no food. Suddenly, she howled a mournful dirge, a chilling symphony of despair. I strategically sat down every seven minutes to focus on my breath, to keep my body warm and my head clear, while she whipped my face, almost like a stinging reminder of my vulnerability.

Two hours had passed since I’d left my family, oblivious to my reckless pursuit. Fear gnawed at me as the fog closed in with a suffocating embrace. The wind carried the mountain’s indifference, a cold, hard truth that echoed in every gust. The world below now completely invisible, and I was wandering amidst the unknown, with no idea of how to get back. In that moment of utter isolation, she was not just a physical force but a haunting echo of my own loneliness, a mournful duet with my despair. With every step, the realization grew that I was alone on this mountain, a tiny speck against the indifferent indifference of nature.

Every fiber of my being screamed at me to retreat, to find safety in what little I knew. Yet, there was a quiet strength, a stubborn defiance. Fear and ambition were locked in a deadly dance, each vying for dominance. And her, in her relentless rhythm, seemed to mirror the internal battle raging within me. A thought danced at the edge of my consciousness: if this was to be my final chapter, what better to have nature as my sole companion, beneath the indifferent gaze of the mountains, and the wind, a solitary storyteller. The mountains stood as silent reminders of a universe indifferent to human life, enduring monuments to a reality far greater than ours.

It was then when I heard a whisper. It was her again. This time clearer, more insistent. Like a melody of sorts, a haunting tune that carried with her a sense of direction. She talked me through the treacherous rocks and icy patches, and howled when I thought of backing down. I was alone, utterly exposed, and yet, strangely connected to something primal and powerful. Eventually, I found myself closer to a silhouette more defined against the fading light, and she seemed to hold her breath, as if anticipating the moment of revelation.

There I stood, at the apex of existence, breathless and exhilarated. The line of control to my left, snow-capped mountains to my right, and the world dissolving into an endless expanse above. I took a deep breath in and roared out to the world. And she roared with me. A raw, unfiltered expression of pure bliss. As loud as one couldn’t even possibly imagine. Yet, in the vastness, she answered, a deafening chorus echoing my joy. Her roar, a thousand times louder, carried my exhilaration into infinity.

I’ve always wondered what got me going that day, whose voice did she carry? Until today, when I stumbled upon a treasure trove of words; my mother’s wisdom, etched onto paper like constellations in the night sky. She shared her belief that the truest contentment is born of simple things and emphasized about the importance of always facing challenges with courage and wisdom. She reminded me of the satisfaction of seeing my goals achieved. But most profoundly, she always believed that, in the end, it’s not about finding yourself, but creating yourself. Her words reminded me of truth that had evaded me: I was the architect of my own destiny. And it was then that it hit me. In that breathtaking moment, the blurred lines of our identities merged. Her was I and I was her. On that mountain peak, I had glimpsed the architect within, a spirit as vast and enduring as the mountains themselves.

I’ve come to understand that I am the artist, the canvas is my life, and the colours are my choices. The past is not a prison but a palette of experiences, both light and shadow, that inform my creation. It’s about owning our vulnerabilities, setting the most ambitious goals, and forging ahead with unwavering resolve. This journey is not without its challenges. Self-doubt creeps in, fear paralyzes, and the world often offers distractions. But with each step, we chisel away at the rough edges, revealing the brilliance within, a brilliance that is uniquely ours. It’s in these moments of solitude and challenge that we truly find ourselves, not as separate entities but as intricate tapestries woven from countless threads of the cosmos. So I descend, carrying a lifetime of wisdom, guided by a voice that carries the soul of the mountain, a symphony composed of so many emotions. And in this harmonious composition, I find not only myself but the enduring echoes of a love that has shaped me.