Yesterday I was pleasantly surprised to receive a comment on my blog,
“backwhen to – Khecheopalri Lake”.

Blogger Nidhee Kekre
had been to Sikkim in May 2007, and sent me a photograph of the Lake.

I am happy to see
that the lake has shrugged off
recent constructions on its shores,
the monastery and the tourist facilities like the superficial scars of surface wounds.

I am really happy to realise that
Himalayas, beautiful in her magnitude,
will always stay untouched, unrippled and proud in her quiet tranquillity.

This photograph captures the sombre beauty of the lake, exactly as I remember it.

Click on photograph to enlarge

And just when you think you have seen all the beauty of Himalayas
reflected from within the lake…

I ask you to look to the north
for if you are as lucky as Nidhee was, you may see Kanchenjunga,
her sharp ridges etched by the sun against the blueness of her companion, the sky.

This is simply an amazing photograph, I have no choice but to share with you all.

Click on photograph to enlarge

Mount Kanchenjunga

“The five treasures of snow” which at 28,169 ft
is the tallest peak in India, second in Nepal and the third highest peak in the world.

First climbed on May 25, 1955 by George Band and Joe Brown of a British expedition
who, out of respect for Sikkimese religious beliefs did not step on the peak.
Successful summiters have followed the tradition since
the peak has stayed untrodden by human feet.

Twice, bad weather stopped me reaching its base,
to be able to sit by the Samity Lake
or just look up up up and up at the towering massif of Kanchenjunga.

Who knows maybe some day I will.

Thanks Nidhee for the photos, a joy of blogging I guess, is to be able to share.

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On a September,
way back in the when
Three college friends and I,
on an impulsively adventurous mood
decided to walk in the mighty Himalayas,
breathe in the free fresh mountain breeze,
see the breathtaking views, do all those sort of wildy things.

This was from way back,
before trekking became ‘cool’.
Were we prepared? Of course we weren’t.
And did we care, no we didn’t. We were young,
the world was waiting; to boldy go, to seek, to explore.
We borrowed kits and garb that would make any museum proud,
and one morning with our vintage rucksacks slung across our back, we were off,
secure with a hand drawn map, an interpretation of someone’s travel log from years ago.

Out of breath, sweaty, thirsty, stiff with pain,
cursing ourselves for self inflicted torture, we soon lost our way.
There was no one to ask; to backtrack would have been back breaking
We plodded on and ended up miles away from where we should have been.
We were rewarded for our ‘misguided’ efforts with an amazing circular rainbow.
Was near day’s end, we ended up beside a lake, a lake like we had never seen before.

The water was dark, serenely quiet, unrippled and clearer than crystal.
It was almost completely hidden from view by a forest of mature trees.
There were no other soul around, the silence was palpable with fingertips.
There was a tiny wooden hut, about twenty yards from the nearest bank,
with couple of tree trunks laid across the marshy edge to gingerly walk across.

We had heard about the lake from the local people at the start of the journey.

Khecheopalri Lake:

aka Khechiperi Lake (the wishing lake);
West Sikkim district of the Indian state of Sikkim.
It is situated amidst an untouched forest at an altitude of approx. 5600ft. It is a holy lake to both the Buddhists and the Hindus of the region and beyond. It was said that wish made at the monastery on the lake side, would have it come true.

The clear lake water is used for rites and rituals only, and the water is kept clean around the year by the waterbirds, that pick up any leaves that falls into the lake. A fair at Khecheopalri lake takes place during the month of March every year, when a large number of local pilgrims visit the lake and the monastery, “Butter Lamp Festival” involves floating of butter lamps on the lake.

That tiny little hut was the gumpha! a buddhist monastery.
On a tiny pedestal sat an even tinier image of Buddha, peaceful in his loneliness.
A dhoop was burning; someone had left a few dhoops with a packet of matchsticks.
We lit a dhoop and made our wishes; (I try to remember, what could I have wished for?)
We stayed there for a while, lost in our thoughts, reluctant to disturb the silence
before moving on to find a place to camp for the night.

At some point during that trip I had fallen in love with the Himalayas,
returning to her, whenever I had time (and money that could only buy shoestrings)
but I have been to some amazing beautiful places, where very few people had ever been.
I had to leave behind my beautiful Himalayas, and came away with just the memories
of the places I loved to visit for peace, to escape from the city.

I read today,

ENVIS Centre Sikkim on Eco-tourism
The influx of tourists (to the Khecheopalri Lake) is high with visible impact of disturbance on the lake and its watershed. Beside visitors, there are 72 households and 440 people are now living near it and exploit the natural resources of the lake watershed by extraction of fuel, fodder and timber and by livestock grazing.

National Geographic
You can do both (eat and stay) at the Khecheopalri Trekkers Hut, Located 656 feet (200 meters) from Khecheopalri Lake. Which has cheap dorm beds and private rooms (with communal bathrooms) that are clean and comfortable.
The owners are helpful, and meals are available. A few simple snack stalls line the lake itself.

The tiny gumpha and its rickety walkway is gone, we now have
a majestic monastery, with prayerflags and wheels and a ‘boardwalk’!
a Trekker’s hut only a stone’s throwaway, snack stalls lining the lake’s shores.

Probably that ethereal peace that we had experienced is also gone; lost forever.

It is said, time heals everything, but Time also destroys.
It is destroying the Himalayas as I once knew, scarring her forever.
Tourism has touched all my favourite places, and changed them beyond recognition.
Organised treks have made the inaccessable easy to trample upon, to dig, tear or burn.

I consider myself lucky to have seen the Himalayas beautiful in an untouched desolation.

HimalayasSikkimIndiamemoriestourismenvironment

A blogging friend of mine
BendtheRulz is
a bohemian,
a nomad by nature
a free spirit who loves the Himalayas.

She has posted photographs of
Himalayan flowers on her blogspage.
And (lucky her ) will be visiting the
“Valley of Flowers” again! and very soon.

I tried to find photos of my visit from decades ago.
Most of my slides, I now remember, were borrowed
by friends and true to the norm, were never returned,
of the few that are left, most have faded, like all flowers do,
except these, of a flower known to us as Brahma Kamal

Brahma Kamal

Botanical name: Saussurea obvallata Family: Asteraceae

The Brahma Kamal: the state flower of Uttarkhand, India.

A flower of the Himalayas,
that blooms in the alpine habitats
at the upper reaches of the mountain ranges between (approx) 11,000 to 17,000 feet.

The flowers bloom in mid monsoons (July – August)
amongst the rocks and grass of the hillsides in places
like The Valley of Flowers and Hemkund Lake at Sapta Shringa.

The flowerheads are purple,
but are hidden from view in layers of yellowish green, papery bracts
which provides the necessary protection from cold mountain environment.

These flowers looks gorgeous, but they smell awful,
perhaps that explains why we do not bring them home, but
have been offering them with devotion in the hill temples at Kedarnath and Badrinath.

[Photographs: © 2007: little indian
Top: at Hemkund,
Middle: Valley of Flowers National Park
Agfa Silette II ! on Kodachrome 64;
September 1981, Uttaranchal, India]

Himalayasflowersbrahma kamalValley of Flowerstravelsmemories

I have.
September 1980, at Khecheopelri Lake, Western Sikkim.

A large blob of peaceful water, clearer than crystal,
6000 and some feet high
in the middle of the Himalayan nowhere;
yet to be discovered by the ramblers and trekkers.

We had stopped to set up camp,
on the eastern side of the mountain
looking towards the east over a deep valley
onto Yoksum, on the next range of mountains.

It had rained off and on the whole day.
Suddenly,
as we stopped, the clouds parted
and the rays of the setting sun hit the mist and the drizzle
lighting up this huge circle of bands of glistening colours,
the upper half of which stretched way up into the sky,
the bottom sat in the natural cradle of the valley.

It had no ends,
no pots of gold waiting to be found,
what we saw was priceless in itself.

Cameras popped open,
but no lens was wide enough
to capture the rainbow in its entirety.
Like a switch flicked on it had appeared,
but it gracefully faded, as the clouds closed in.

Since then I have tried to share with friends and family what we had seen,
to convey that feeling of awe and wonder of seeing a full rainbow circle.
I don’t think they even believed me, I had no evidence.

Till today, when I came upon this photograph.

(It is nothing like the real thing, its just to give an idea.)

[Photograph courtesy: www.whiteplanes.com]

Since then I have long lost touch with my many friends
so let me share this photograph with you, here.
if you have never seen a rainbow circle…

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