Back to Pindari After Fifteen Years

Back to Pindari After Fifteen Years

The Himalayas are so vast that reaching them even once is a privilege. The winding roads, multiple modes of transport, physical preparation, and unpredictable mountain conditions mean that many things have to fall into place before a trek can happen. I therefore consider myself extremely fortunate to have trekked to Pindari Glacier for the second time in my life.

A view of Nanda khat

My first visit to Pindari was in 2011, when I accompanied a school group as a chaperone. My son was then in Grade 7 and was one of twenty-three students on the trip. The experience remains one of my most cherished trekking memories. ( You can check that blog here)

This time, my companions were two experienced trekkers—my husband Vinay and his IIT Bombay friend, Nitin. Initially, I planned to follow the same route as before. However, when I contacted Kumaun Mandal Vikas Nigam (KMVN), I was surprised to learn that a motorable road now reaches Khati village. The trek would therefore be significantly shorter, leaving us with time to explore nearby areas such as Bajalingdhar or even the Kafni Glacier.

The team- From the left- Vinay,Gauri and Nitin

The Journey Begins

7 May 2026: Delhi – Kathgodam – Almora

We boarded the Shatabdi Express from New Delhi Railway Station. Its large windows offered excellent views, and before long the crowded suburbs of Delhi gave way to lush green fields and forests. Breakfast—cutlets and bread slices—was served on board, and the train reached Kathgodam at 11:50 a.m., a few minutes ahead of schedule.

Our pre-booked taxi driver arrived about an hour later. Fortunately, we did not mind the wait and spent the time sipping tea at the IRCTC canteen.

After lunch at a rooftop restaurant, we began the drive through winding mountain roads lined with pine forests. A few hours later we approached Kainchi Dham, the famous ashram associated with Neem Karoli Baba. Although Steve Jobs was influenced by Neem Karoli Baba's teachings, the two never met in person. We had hoped for a quick darshan, but our driver was reluctant to stop. As we neared the temple, we understood why: a serpentine queue stretched far beyond the entrance. The ashram's popularity has grown enormously in recent years, helped in part by the devotion of public figures such as Virat Kohli and Anushka Sharma.

By evening we reached the KMVN tourist rest house in Almora ((Pronunciation-ulmoda) perched above the valley. The view from our room was breathtaking. After leaving our bags, we walked to the nearby Ramakrishna Kutir to watch the sunset.

A large statue of Swami Vivekananda stood there, accompanied by his famous exhortation:

उत्तिष्ठत जाग्रत प्राप्य वरान्निबोधत।
क्षुरस्य धारा निशिता दुरत्यया दुर्गं पथस्तत्कवयो वदन्ति। कठोपनिषद (1.3.14)

Arise, awake, find out the great gurus and learn of them; for sharp as a razor's edge, hard to traverse, difficult of going is that path, say the sages. Looking at the setting sun over the hills, the words seemed particularly appropriate.

After a beautiful sunset, we retired early because Almora's Mall Road was surprisingly quiet. We wanted to be fresh for the long journey ahead.

Originally, we had planned to do the trek entirely on our own. While researching online, however, Vinay came across the contact number of Dhyan Singh through a YouTube video on the Pindari Glacier trek. After several conversations with him, we realised that hiring a vehicle to Khati would save considerable time and effort. During my earlier trek, we had started from Loharkhet and walked to Khati via Dhakuri—a demanding first day of nearly 17 kilometres. Following Dhyan Singh's advice proved to be a wise decision. He even arranged for a local driver to pick us up from Almora the next morning.

Almora at dawn

8 May 2026: Almora to Khati

Early in the morning, we stepped out for a short walk, assuming the driver would arrive only after breakfast. To our surprise, Guddu from Khati reached the KMVN guest house at 6:45 a.m. We hurried back, packed up, and left by 7:15.

Mountain traffic can be unpredictable. Even at that early hour we were delayed by a traffic jam in a small market town, where a large vehicle was unloading goods. In the mountains, something as simple as this can bring traffic to a standstill.

Soon the road climbed higher through pine and deodar forests. We stopped at a charming restaurant perched on stilts at the edge of a cliff. The owner greeted us warmly and invited us inside. Bright sunlight illuminated a roof lined with neatly arranged potted plants. Running a restaurant in such a remote location must be challenging, yet the lady of the house was already busy preparing fresh aloo parathas.

As we enjoyed our breakfast, Guddu tucked into a plate of Maggi noodles. We had made a conscious effort to eat local food during the journey, but many locals seemed to prefer instant noodles, chips, and aerated drinks.

For lunch, the driver stopped in Bharadi. We ordered a thali with rice, fulka, sabji. There was a black-white curry without many spices. It was called bhatt ke dubke. It is made with coarsely ground black soybeans and was very tasty. The lady running the hotel was stunningly gorgeous. She came and sat chatting with me. Her husband was probably in armed forces. Her daughter had finished 12^th exams and son had finished 10^th. She was curious about our trekking plans and was sharing the fun that she had at a wedding with enthusiasm.

While returning I wanted to eat bhatt ke dubke again and luckily Dhyan Singh served us when we came back!  He also sevred the tangy "bhang ke beej ki chutney" that did not have intoxicate us.

Bhatt ke dubke and bhang ke beej ki chutney (P.C. Nitin)

After couple of hours we reached Nanda Kot Homestay in Khati at around 3 p.m.The road reaching Khati is undoubtedly a luxury, but it has come at a cost. We saw evidence of soil erosion, landslides, and increasing plastic waste along the route. At a forest check post near Khati, officials recorded our details and collected a refundable deposit of ₹1,000 against plastic waste. They assured us that the amount would be returned if we brought back all the plastic we carried into the valley. I carefully tucked away the receipt.

Dinner at Nanda kot home stay

After tea, we walked to the KMVN rest house where I had stayed fifteen years earlier. Seeing the freshly painted building filled me with nostalgia. Memories of that trek with my son and his friends came flooding back.

9 May 2026: On the Green Trail (Khati to Dwali – 13 km)

After breakfast we set off on the much-awaited trek. Fortunately, our guide Mohan carried my main backpack, leaving me with only a day pack.

Soon after leaving Khati, we met a team of forest rangers. Among them was a young ranger named Dolly, who stopped us to check our plastic-waste deposit receipt. After verifying it, the team photographed and filmed us as part of an awareness campaign. We encountered them several times over the next few days.

Along with forest rangers- (P.C. Nitin)

It was encouraging to see the efforts being made to keep the mountains clean. The previous year, during our Sandakphu–Phalut trek with Indiahikes, each trekker had been given a pouch to collect litter from the trail. Waste segregation centres had been set up at camps, and everyone participated enthusiastically. Inspired by that experience, we followed several "green trekking" practices during this journey as well. We carried our own cups and cutlery, avoided wet wipes, and did not purchase a single bottle of packaged water. At some points we used chlorine purification tablets, and thankfully our stomachs remained perfectly healthy throughout the trek.

The Pindar River flowed beside us as we walked. A large new bridge now spanned the river—a structure that did not exist during my previous visit.

On the new bridge with guide Mohan 

A view of a small tributary of Pindar

About five kilometres from Khati, we stopped at a small eatery run by Khadak Singh. I was delighted when I spotted a vegetable called linguda on Dolly's plate. The last time I had eaten it was during a trek to Dodital nearly seventeen years ago.

Linguda, a wild Himalayan fiddlehead fern, is highly prized and rarely seen in urban markets. Since I still had half a paratha left from breakfast, I decided to pair it with a serving of linguda sabzi. It felt like the perfect way to honour a local Himalayan delicacy.

Khadak Singh lives in Khati and starts his day before dawn. Along the trail he gathers linguda and sisun (nettle), which he serves to trekkers and road workers. While many visitors order noodles, I was delighted to find traditional mountain food still being prepared.

On our return journey a few days later, we stopped again at his shop for sisun ki sabzi with rice. Nettle(Urtica dioica), also known as bicchu ghas, grows abundantly in moist mountain soil. Curious despite knowing its reputation, I touched a few leaves and paid the price—the sting lingered for almost a day. Yet when properly cooked, the plant transforms into a delicious and highly nutritious dish. Later I learnt that the 11th century Tibetan monk Milrepa survived on nettle for years. That is why his skin is shown green!

Bicchu ghass (nettle), linguda and rice at Khadak Singh's hotel

As we continued toward Dwali, the final kilometre felt particularly demanding. Dwali sits on a small ridge, with steep slopes dropping away on either side and streams converging from different directions. In 2011 there had been only a KMVN rest house and a tiny noodle shop. Today there is also a PWD rest house and several small eateries.

I distinctly remembered a broad grassy bugyal where our school students had run about freely. Now it appeared much smaller. When I asked Mohan about it, he explained that a major landslide had occurred during the 2013 disaster that devastated much of Uttarakhand. He himself had been stranded there with nearly two hundred trekkers and villagers and had escaped using an alternative route across the opposite slope.

The scarred mountainsides were a sobering reminder of the immense forces that shape the Himalayas.By the time we climbed the final stretch into Dwali, we were exhausted. We checked into the first room shown to us and collapsed onto the beds.

Our cook, Anand, turned out to be a lively and cheerful host. Single-handedly managing the kitchen, accommodation, water supply, and cleaning, he seemed capable of doing everything. That evening we sat beside his wood-fired stove, sipping hot vegetable soup while he prepared dinner. Mohan joined him in rolling rotis, and the warm kitchen became the perfect place to end a long day on the trail.

Chatting and chapatis near Chulha

10 May 2026: Dwali to Phurkiya (5 km)

We decided on a slightly late start, as our destination for the day was only Phurkiya. Although the distance was just 5 km, the trail was steep in several places and involved river and glacier crossings.

During my first trek in April 2011, our entire group had reached Phurkiya, but only a handful of us had ventured beyond it. There was a great deal of snow that year, and we had used crampons while crossing snow-covered glaciers. Just a couple of kilometres beyond Phurkiya, we had found enough snow to spend time playing before returning to Dwali the same day.

During one of my earlier conversations with Dhyan Singh, he had confidently told me that we would be able to reach Zero Point without crampons. At the time, I found it difficult to believe him, but his assessment proved remarkably accurate. In 2011, Zero Point had been considered beyond our reach because of the heavy snow. Now the glacier had retreated dramatically, leaving behind a rugged landscape of rocks, streams, and patches of hardened snow. The impact of climate change was impossible to ignore.

Challenging snow filled slopes

We reached Phurkiya around lunchtime and met Pindari Baba. Dressed in a thin saffron jacket and a simple lungi, Swami Dharmanand—popularly known as Pindari Baba—is a revered ascetic who has lived near Zero Point for almost three decades. He maintains a small ashram and a modest temple dedicated to Goddess Nanda Devi, constructed partly from stone and partly from wood.

That day, Baba was returning to Pindari after spending four months away during the winter. We spent some time talking to him about life in the high Himalayas. A disciple of Pilot Baba, he lives alone in his remote ashram. Every day he fetches water from a stream nearly a hundred metres away, cooks his own meals, and maintains the temple. With a smile, he remarked that many young spiritual aspirants who visit him are unable to endure even a fraction of these hardships.

The following morning, Baba left at around 5:30 a.m. and reached his ashram in barely ninety minutes. The same journey took us nearly four hours.

That afternoon, we walked part of the route towards Zero Point and returned to Phurkiya. The short excursion served as acclimatisation for the next day's trek. Along the way we crossed beautiful bugyals and steep moraines where we spotted mountain goats and colourful Himalayan monals.

11 May 2026: To Zero Point and Back to Dwali (17–18 km)

We started early from Phurkiya, around 6 a.m., though the sky was already bright. It was a demanding day with numerous ascents and descents, along with several glacier crossings.

The trail began amidst blooming rhododendrons and a variety of colourful alpine flowers. Gradually, as we crossed the tree line, the landscape became increasingly barren. The grassy patches grew smaller and smaller until only rock and moraine remained. Ahead of us rose the magnificent peaks of Nanda Kot, Changuch, Maiktoli, and Panwali Dwar

A view of the peaks on the way to Zero point

Vinay and I stopped at Pindari Baba's ashram, while Nitin continued farther ahead towards Zero Point and returned with some spectacular photographs.

Zero point captured by Nitin

Despite having arrived only the previous day after a long winter absence, Baba welcomed us warmly and offered tea. He was busy airing his bedding in the sun and putting his ashram back in order after the winter months. Mohan helped him with a few chores, including carrying water from the nearby stream.

Although the sun was shining brightly, the wind was fierce and the cold penetrated every layer of clothing.

Just before reaching the ashram, we passed a small locked shelter belonging to the Wadia Institute of Himalayan Geology. I found myself wishing that someone had been there to explain the research being conducted in such a fascinating location.

The return journey was challenging as well, but the predominantly downhill route made it easier. We reached Phurkiya by around 1:30 p.m. and enjoyed a hot lunch before continuing down to Dwali.

The final few kilometres felt endless. A light drizzle began to fall, adding to our fatigue. Fortunately, Mohan had gone ahead and secured accommodation for us. We were delighted to find ourselves back in the same cosy room where we had stayed two nights earlier.

12 May 2026: Back to Khati (12–13 km)

After breakfast—Anand's inventive version of an egg quesadilla, essentially an omelette sandwiched between rotis—we began our descent towards Khati.

We paused several times to photograph the log bridges and familiar stretches of trail. As promised, we stopped once again at Khadak Singh's shop. My left knee had begun to trouble me, and I was walking more slowly than before. Yet there was no hurry. I wanted to absorb every detail of the valley—the mountains, the forests, and the ever-present sound of the Pindar River.

Just before reaching Khati, the weather changed dramatically. Dark clouds gathered and a sudden hailstorm swept through the valley. Although we were wearing raincoats, the hailstones struck with surprising force. Fortunately, we found shelter in a horse shed and waited until the storm passed before continuing.

By the time we reached Nanda Kot Homestay, I was thoroughly exhausted. Vinay and Nitin, however, seemed to have endless reserves of energy. The very next day they set off for another trek to Bajalingdhar while I stayed back in Khati to rest.

In retrospect, that quiet day in Khati was one of the highlights of the trip. Sitting on the veranda of Nanda Kot Homestay, watching the changing colours of the mountains and sky, felt almost meditative. The constant chorus of birds and the gentle tinkling of wind chimes created an atmosphere of complete serenity.

14 May 2026: Khati to Jalna

We left Khati shortly after an early cup of tea. At the forest check post, we deposited the small amount of waste we had carried back and happily reclaimed our plastic-waste deposit.

Later, we stopped for breakfast at Hotel Siddhivinayak on Mount Binayak and found ourselves to be the day's first customers.

After a few hours we reached Bharadi, where we transferred to a nine-seater tempo that somehow managed to accommodate thirteen or fourteen passengers along with numerous mailbags. To ensure a little comfort, we paid for four seats while occupying three.

The driver appeared to double as a postal employee. Throughout the journey he repeatedly stopped, climbed onto the roof, rearranged passengers' luggage and secured large sacks of mail. I could not help admiring both his skill and his patience. Equally impressive were the regular passengers, who accepted these interruptions as a normal part of daily life in the mountains.

By afternoon we stopped for lunch before continuing towards Almora. Despite my aching knee, I somehow managed the long and crowded journey. From Almora we hired another vehicle for the short drive to Jalna.

14–16 May 2026: J. Krishnamurti Retreat, Jalna

After the fatigue of the previous days, arriving at the Krishnamurti Retreat filled me with a profound sense of happiness.

We were warmly welcomed by Abhishek, Shaurya, and Suraj. Abhishek and Shaurya, both in their twenties and from technical backgrounds, were volunteering at the centre. Suraj, a talented young cook, ensured that we were exceptionally well fed throughout our stay.

Vinay and I stayed in a beautiful wooden cottage, while Nitin chose a cozy mud hut. There was also a glass room with a transparent roof that offered spectacular views of the night sky. Both Vinay and Nitin spent a night there, though I preferred the comfort of having a toilet nearby. 

The Glass Room

At the gazebo with Abhishek and Shaurya

Perched atop a hill, the retreat offers sweeping views of the surrounding mountains in every direction. Nitin left a day before us. That evening we managed to do a short trek to see the sunset with Shaurya and Abhishek.

With Shaurya and Abhishek at sunset point

On the 17^th morning, while returning to Kathgodam, we found a small cab which we shared with two ladies. One was in her fifties but had her sons and daughters married off. She was dressed in a fine saree and was on her way to meet her sister for a week. The other one was a modern woman in her twenties who was staying with her sister in a small village Lamgara. She was a cashier at the local cooperative bank. She was going to see her mother in Haldwani and was going to return early next morning to join office at 9 AM. She was sharing her very progressive views about marriage. It was really encouraging to see their independence!

Reflections

My stay at the J. Krishnamurti Retreat in Jalna provided a fitting conclusion to the journey. Krishnamurti often spoke about perception and argued that "the description is not the described." When we look at a mountain and immediately name it, compare it with a memory, or fit it into a story, we are often seeing our own mental image rather than the mountain itself.

As I sat watching the hills around Jalna, I found myself thinking about the Pindar River. Near its source, it appeared surprisingly modest—a narrow stream winding through rocks and meadows. Yet I remembered seeing the same river at Karnaprayag, where it joins the Alaknanda in a powerful torrent. A river, like a human life, is always in the process of becoming.

Returning to Pindari after fifteen years was both joyful and unsettling. I found the familiar mountains, forests, and trails that I had remembered, but I also saw unmistakable signs of change—eroded slopes, landslides, plastic waste, and a glacier that had retreated far beyond where it had stood during my first visit. The experience left me with a sense of eco-grief.

Yet the mountains seemed to offer their own perspective. Change and impermanence are woven into the fabric of nature itself. Rivers shift course, glaciers advance and retreat, forests grow and disappear, and human beings pass through these landscapes for only a moment.

Fifteen years after my first trek to Pindari, I returned not only to a landscape that had changed but also as a person who had changed. Perhaps the lesson of Pindari is not merely to mourn what is being lost, but to cultivate gratitude for what remains—and to protect it while we can. The Himalayas continue to inspire awe, humility, and wonder. To walk among them, even briefly, is a privilege.

Yet as I sat quietly in Jalna, another thought emerged. Impermanence is woven into the very fabric of nature. Rivers change course, glaciers advance and retreat, forests regenerate, and human lives pass through these landscapes only briefly.

Pindari Glacier Trek

Many years ago when I was studying Sanskrit as a school girl; I was touched by the metaphors in Kumarasambhava.  Kumarsambhava is just a mythological story of Shiva and Parvati’s first born child Kartikeya. This epic poem of Sanskrit Shakespeare- Kalidasa begins with a description of the Himalayas.

God of the distant north, the Snowy Range
  O’er other mountains towers imperially;

Earth's measuring-rod, being great and free from change,

  Sinks to the eastern and the western sea.

I am not sure if Kalidasa had really traveled from Ujjain(M.P.) to Himalayas in the 5^th century A.D. However, it has been my childhood dream to visit various ranges of Himalayas. In the last few years, I have been trying to fulfill it by visiting several places in the mountains. This year I had the honor of organizing Pindari Glacier Trek for a batch of 23 teenagers and two fellow teachers.

Sparkling water of Glaciers

I had seen many rivers however, had no clue about a glacier. Fresh water to me was available in Bisleri bottles. While preparing for the trek, i found out that a glacier is large body of ice which starts flowing downwards at a slow pace. And that they are the largest reservoirs of fresh water. The freshness of glacier water cannot be matched by manmade purifiers. I can now vouch for it because throughout the trek we all kept filling up our bottles from local streams and no one even once complained of stomach problems.

The beginning

Our preparations lasted mainly for the last two months- phones and emails to anxious parents, finding time for meeting the students in their ultra-busy schedules, trips to Decathlon and managing their shopping etc. Finally, we started on 16^th April morning from school. We reached Delhi by flight that afternoon and stayed at Hotel Gautam Delux till the dinner. A number of students had packed loads of luggage as they were going to go home after the trek. All that had to be kept in the hotel and only bare necessities had to be packed in smaller bags. This was one of the toughest tasks as the children did not want to part with any of their belongings. Little did they know about the space crunch in the sleeper class train that they were to board that night? We reached old Delhi railway station about an hour early and waited for the train. I have had several good and bad experiences of train journeys in India but for some my students this was much different than their overseas flight journeys and holidays in air-conditioned resorts of Goa or Hawai! It was difficult keeping them awake and smiling till 10:40 pm. At last, we boarded the train and arranged their berths securely. Some berths were full of dust and few girls refused to even lie down. Soon their tired bodies just gave away and the whole compartment went into dream world.

I kept waking up at every hour to check on each one of them and the baggage. Finally, at around 5:30 am(17^th April) we reached Kathgodam. A tiny mini bus was waiting outside the station. We freshened up at the Kumao Mandal Vikas Nigam (KMVN) guesthouse and immediately left for Bageshwar. The distance between Kathgodam and Bageshwar is just 150 km. The winding roads soon churned our stomachs and the bus turned into a vomit comet (training spaceship J ). After a tough ride of 6-7 hours we reached the Bageshwar rest house for lunch. Luckily four jeeps were arranged during the return journey and it turned out to be much better while coming back.

After lunch and another round of packing stuff into even smaller rucksacks provided by KMVN we left for Loharkhet by jeeps. This was another 45 km roller coaster ride which went through rough roads and smaller villages. This time we were lucky to get jeeps. That evening we concluded our journey by motorized vehicles. From that evening onwards, there would be no TV/mobile connections and no vehicles. We were all set to begin our march to Pindari Glacier with KMVN guide Mr. Bhuvan Pal and his assistants. It was a rainy night and everyone fell off to sleep within seconds.

The trek begins…..

Next morning (18^th April) after breakfast, Mr. Bhuvan gave us a brief idea about our 70 to 80 km trek. We had a minute of silent prayer. One of most important lesson that Mr. Pal said was that if you want to complete the trek successfully Pao Garam, Pet Naram aur Dimag Thanda (i.e. keep your feet warm, stomachs light and the most importantly keep your head cool!). For the agony aunt in me, this was the biggest message of my life and I really tried to keep it in my mind. As I was gasping for a breath, I saw a seventh grader girl barely dragging herself in very first hour of the trek and another hefty ninth grader boy stopped several times due to diarrhea. My worries were haunting me and I felt I may have to stay at the next halt with at least 4-5 of them till the rest reach the Zero Point and return. Our target for that day was 10 km climb and another 9 km climb + descent after lunch. The trails are clearly laid out and these are paths full of rocks and stones. Both sides are lined up with trees of all kinds. Some of wild varieties of flowers were in full blossom and leaves had all possible shades of green and yellow.

The views of the valleys were breathtaking and we got a first peak of Nandadevi range of snow capped mountains from Dhakudi. From Dhakudi to Khati was a relatively easy trek as it started with a downhill path. Here the challenge was that some of the enthusiastic boys and girls just started running down before we could gather the lazy and sick ones. My mind was full of worries….i kept shouting and blowing my whistle but they had gone much beyond. The other two teachers ran to catch them however, the children were too fast! When we reached Khati, we had an assembly and a strict warning was issued. The elder boys were warned that they have to remain within one km range. Next day, this message was taken well and everyone remained in groups and Ms. Leena did a fantastic job of uniting the strong ones with the weaker ones.

Food Glorious Food

The trek would have been impossible without our local support. The luggage was carried by mules and the cooks were amazing. They would carry the provisions and reach just minutes before us. They used to prepare hot soups, tea and savories within minutes. The food was cooked on wood fire and although our kids did not get their daily dose of pizzas and burgers, they all ate well almost till the last day. The daal-roti and rice they prepared made a superb meal after all the walking.

Maggie noodles came to their rescue at several small Maggie shops. It is at one of those Noodlewalls hut I heard the whole story of an ascetic- Pindari Baba who lives beyond the Zero Point. Pindari Baba meditates most of the evening and lives alone. He is a graduate and speaks English very well. Some people said that he has all the modern gadgets of communication. Along with spicy noodles, these talks kept me amused about that whole place.

Khati to Dwali (19^th April)

Khati to Dwali was another 10 km walk full of ups and downs. We walked along Sunderdunga and Pindar River streams. The music of sparkling waters was constantly with us. This time students cooperated and helped each other. Even then, some were on the verge of crying or sitting down. Earlier plan to was to climb up to Phurkia after lunch. That was going to be a tough climb of another 5 km. Luckily, the weather turned bad and our guide gave us a choice of staying back in Dwali. I promptly explained that to students and to my surprise they too felt relieved. They started wandering around and visited the Maggie shop, took out playing cards. It was rather cold and mercury must have dipped to zero. There was a hailstorm followed by a snowstorm for few minutes.

In mountaineering, one should respect the nature. We may be mighty fit in our cities but in the mountains weather can change over minutes. Also, one cannot underestimate the effect of altitude on our bodies.  One has to take the challenge with patience. If one cannot reach the summit that trip, it does not matter. What matters most is your healthy return to the base camp!

All these places do not have electricity supply. For the first time in Dwali, KMVN team connected a generator and managed to do electric fittings in our rooms. That night, we had lights in our room till 9 pm. The sky cleared up after dinner I managed to explain constellations to the students. I was overjoyed to see the Milky Way which is unseen in Bangalore!  

Final Ascent(20^th April)

Though it was only 5 km to Phurkia, it was supposed to be the final endurance test. The road was quite steep and we hit upon small glaciers at every few hundred meters. I have experienced walking in snow. However, here we had to cross steep slopes fully covered with hard ice. We followed the paths shown by the local guides and helped each other to cross. My eyes were constantly over all the children. This was the toughest part of the trek. It was sunny and chilly at the same time. We reached Phurkia at around 10:30 am. The famous Zero Point was just 7 km ahead but it was definitely not in our reach. On our mentor’s instruction we decided to take a few kids a little bit ahead to a spot that had even more snow. I would say this itself was our Zero Point though it must have at some fraction between 0 and 1!

About ten of them were mentally and physically ready to accept the challenge. I decided to accompany them despite my painful ankles as I had taken their responsibility. Later on, at one of the glacier crossings I felt I could not go ahead. I saw my son marching ahead with some of the youngsters and I gathered enough courage to move on. My spirits were motivated and pushed myself ahead with the help of Kumao helpers. Their smiling faces and sturdy hands gave me support and confidence.

The slopes beyond Phurkia  were completely white. I had seen enough snow in the Rocky Mountain and in Buffalo(NY), and even in Ladakh .....but this snow and views of the Pindari Glacier were breathtaking!

My camera just could not capture it and my vocabulary is too limited to describe it. My whole body was extremely cold and sore but I was in the seventh heaven. My name- "Gauri" means Parvati-the daughter of Himalayas! Though i am a non-believer- at that moment i felt that the mountain itself -my Father made sure that i made it. Now, I can appreciate how Pindari Baba is living at the top there for the past 25 years…..it must be worth it! I am convinced that Kalidasa must have been somewhere here. The mobile phone was useless but i looked at a white cloud messenger (Meghdoot) and passed a message to my dear husband and also to my own father!!