A friend wanted a piece on my days in Ladakh for a travel issue. Never saw the light of the day. Thought i will share with you all - the tipping point being an interesting workshop i attended this weekend with these guys: http://redwisdom.in/Events/LifePurpose.aspx
To put simply the stuff from the workshop - We delete stuff from the computer and it lands in the recycle bin. If the accumulated stuff isnt deleted, then the machine becomes slow. Similarly, in our lives we sweep aside some issues, memories, unpleasant moments in the mental recycle bin. Ever emptied that?
Do get in touch with these folks if you want some clarity of thought.
= = = = =
It was 2004 and it was my professional nadir. I thought the feeling will pass, and was learning to live with hopelessness.
Lucky for me, one email changed my life. A friend wrote in to share his experiences about a NGO that worked in the field of education from Phey village, near Leh in Ladakh. Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go, and after few email exchanges with the administrator of the NGO, on a frozen winter morning i found myself at the Leh airport. Frankly, they didn't expect that i would actually show up! My senses were numbed by the cold. It snowed that evening. Nice flaky white snow. The temperature dropped to minus 24 overnight. I couldn't feel my nose, face, hands - and i was wearing 7 layers of clothing. In sub zero temperature i made it to be campus on a mini bus with a continuous mountain on one side and the mighty Indus, deep down, flowing along the road on the other side.
The SECMOL campus is situated at a curve in the mighty Indus, with really huge and imposing mountains on all sides. The interplay between the mountains and the river played the most important role in my 8 months stay on campus. The mountains making you feel totally insignificant and the mesmerising river challenging you, gushing forth.
The changing seasons have a marvelous effect on these two mighty forces of nature. It is a spectacle for everyone to see and enjoy. In the winter months, the mountain tops were snow white, the river was sluggish with icy cold water and frost formations on river bank that didnt get sunlight. Just to go and sit near the river was an experience in itself. With spring, as the mountain snow started melting, the river water turned muddy. The pace and depth of the river increased. There was sunshine and shrubs were coming around. Small springs came alive with sparkling water all over the landscape. Cattle ventured outside. Summer was the most interesting month though. With maximum temperature touching 20 degree Celsius, this was most certainly the coldest summer of my life! The brown mountain tops were visible now and the Indus gushed with life, flowing with a mad energy. At the corner where the river turns and slows, we did the annual linen and curtains laundry and went to play in the water. And before we knew it, the first snowfall happened in October. The winter was underway. The mountains went back to wearing white robes. The river slowed down.
There is a constant tension between the mountain and the river. The dichotomy - of immovable, huge mountains and the always flowing river - living in the vast nothingness of Ladakh. Many million centuries back, the mountains must have stopped the river and the river would have chipped the mountains and made way. What a wonderful love-hate relationship they must share! The lifeless, cold mountains - a solid testimony for stability in life. To stand by your principles, to be on guard all the time, to be firm in all seasons. The lively river - running along constantly, seeing new lands, living in the suspense of some unknown culmination.
I had similar issues in my professional slump that time. Was i happy with stability or did i want to go on a journey of discovery? Was there satisfaction in staying in a comfort zone or should every moment be lived in search of the unknown? Is there joy in watching life go by or an adrenaline rush that comes with uncertainty? Every moment and minute, each hour, day, month and year, the mountain sees the river travel over itself, flirting with his foothills, running desperately to the vast unknown. Does it not get tempted to join the glorious dance of the river? How dearly the river must have wanted to stop flowing, so it doesn't lose its existence by joining the ocean?
Every time i saw the amazing spectacle in front of me, playing out non-stop in a synchronised symphony, i wondered which of these two ways was right to live. Each passing moment the never ending romance of the mountain and the river made me question myself, the choices i made, the life i lived and the path i wanted to walk on. Yes, the river took some part of the mountain as the snow melted and the mountain kept some moisture of the river in its heart, but that didnt change the very nature of either the mountain or the river. Some silt flowed all the way to the river bed and some water trickled into the roots of flora on the mountain slopes. The essence of their identity was never lost.
The mountain and river merely reflected the struggle within me - who am i and what do i want to be. Confused between two levels of existence, both offering a life choice. As the muddy water of Indus cleared after spring, i figured out we are destined to remain who we are. We are born as mountains or rivers. A rock solid person can never flow like a river. Someone living like a carefree river cannot appreciate a stable life. The temptation to join hands and the repulsion of a strange life, forever play games with our hearts and minds. However steadfast we are in our lives and there will be an opportunity to go on a journey in to the unknown. We can be born nomadic and yet, live every moment with a solid sense of purpose.
Knowing the path and walking the path, are two very different things. No matter who you are, and where you want to go, unless you start believing. A journey to find who you are - mountain or river - and what you make on your path, is the most joyous one. Make that little effort, and look beyond.
Good luck and happy journey!
