Desert Valley - Part 2

Is it possible to be reminded of something that you've never really forgotten? Well, of course it's something that's at the back of your mind. But suddenly it takes the centre stage and the memories come gushing to you. It's like you're living in the past. Something like time-traveling. Time-traveling back to a trip where you were in your happy place and, even today, in this chaos of the city, you seek for the same happiness, and you're hit by the thought that you will not find it here.
My blog about Ladakh (the first part) resurfaced as a Facebook memory from about 2 years ago. And it teleported me back to those sunny, wintery days in the desert valley. How I missed hitting those dusty, rugged roads of Ladakh that took me to the pieces of paradise on earth! Traveling across the region with locals that were now familiar, whom we lived with as a family for almost a week in Ladakh, well that was what I call a truly exhilarating experience!
It was as though every time the road took a turn, it had something different to offer. So many roads were jeweled with rivers flowing by the side, sparkling under the sun and occasionally passing under a small bridge decorated with colourful prayer flags that fluttered because of the cold wind. From the window, distant barren mountains were seen covered with snow at the top. At times we passed grasslands where we spotted some animals - families of deers and marmots peacefully grazing and basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Traveling across the region meant crossing deep valleys through ghats with hairpin bends, you almost felt like you could feel sick and puke at any moment but halting at intervals for some butter tea was always the solution.  I still remember reaching Khardung-La and sipping on some hot Kahwa amidst the snow-covered road. All in white and grey and only prayer flags adding colour to the scenery. What a pleasant sight it was! Despite the mountain sickness you feel at such a height, you don't complain. Because you know that you're experiencing something so pure, something that you will never be blessed with back in your city. So you just sit there ignoring the head ache and continue sipping your Kahwa while you stare blankly at the incredible view and just be. Nothing more. Nothing less. You just be.

And that's what the mountains do to you. They hypnotise you to the extent that you know you have to go back to them. You don't know for what. You just have to. It's like making an unsaid promise to the mountains. I will be back to see you. And yet again, you can enthrall me with your beauty, charm and majesty. And I will never stop loving you, my dear mountains.