The Spiti river meanders between the arid mountains powdered with snow. The river is lined with ice and pebbles on both sides. Translucent lumps of ice can be seen floating on the glacial blue water and large rocks interspersed in the river have created their own islands of ice. It is impossible to determine the speed of the river because in some places it looks perfectly still and in others it seems to rush. The mountains that abut the river on both sides vary from patterned rock formations to flowing piles of loose rock and gravel. Every now and then, we come across a section of the road where the mountain slope on one side of the road is covered in snow and on the other side of the road the slope has almost no snow at all. It’s a fascinating and intriguing sight. As we get closer to Kaza, I even recognize some mountains from a previous visit, or at least I think I do. The last time I had seen this landscape in summer, and it left me in awe. Now, in the winter, it takes my breath away. Slowly even the silhouette of the mountain begins to blur and the cold night descends, leaving me craving for light.
The cold in Kaza hits you in the face like a hard block of ice. It overwhelms the sensors of your body, setting off the alarms. In a matter of seconds your hands turn to wood. I pull out my heaviest jacket, but my clumsy wooden fingers find it near-impossible to operate the zip. Eventually I manage to zip up and then I can’t find my phone. I look for it on the seat, under the seat, between the seats, in the storage, under the mat, under the bags, in the rear seat, under the rear seat, in the pockets and everywhere possible but I can’t seem to find it. I decide that the extreme cold is impairing my memory and possibly vision, so I should seek the warmth of the home stay and think about it calmly there.
On my way to the homestay, I am, once again greeted with great excitement and enthusiasm by street dogs. It’s been 3 days and I haven’t encountered a single street dog who has growled or barked. The cold has cured them of their natural aggression and malice. I haven’t even seen street dogs chase one another or fight for the last 3 days. Seeing these friendly dogs, my thoughts are drawn to the violence that had erupted on the streets of Delhi, in the days before I left. The government decided to relax the rules to give citizenship to some refugees and half the country was now under siege. Buses were destroyed, property was damaged, roads were blocked, for rules that didn’t impact the protesters. The Right blamed the Left and the Left blamed the Right. They were all fools, lacking compassion, empathy and foresight. Far from all the shouts, slogans, marches, protests and politics, 25 people from different classes, castes, religions, genders, generations and regions were on the expedition of their life. Their topics of the last 5 days were around view, weather, vehicle, food, water, and adventure. No one even brought up politics or current affairs. Maybe this is just a kinder world or maybe politics is just a preoccupation for empty minds.
I enter the homestay. I pass one room, then another, then the kitchen, and then finally enter a large hall where everyone is present. The warmth of the hall takes me by surprise. There are 2 wood furnaces heating the room and everyone is peeling off their jackets. After spending 5 minutes in the room, it is hard to even imagine how cold it is outside. I resume the search for the mobile but it ends in disappointment. The phone is my repository of contacts, user ids, notes, memories, ideas and even poems. But at this moment, losing the expedition photos and videos seems like the only colossal loss, everything else is just a diminished past.
We are served delicious tea and snacks and then the party moves to the second floor in a similar hall. Here the seals of Old Monk bottles are cracked and some stiff drinks are poured. It’s a celebration held under the pretence of surviving the cold. Someone mentions that alcohol doesn’t actually help with the cold, instead it increases your chances of getting hypothermia. Non-drinkers are vindicated. Then someone pours out the kind of wisdom that only alcohol can distil -“Maybe that is true but then in this kind of unforgiving weather, half the battle is just the state of mind. And this sure does put me in a great state of mind”. That thought gives even the non-drinkers a reason to reflect.