He asked me: if I were to recall one key moment or experience from
our trip, what would that be.
It was early morning and we were sitting beside the Trisuli River;
the clouds hung low over the mountains and there was a sharp chill in the
morning air. Being in the heart of the Himalayas and captivated by its power
yet again, could I really think of just one moment or experience?
Lying in the sun after a sumptuous breakfast, on the upper deck of a
local eating place situated on the far side of the lake at Pokhara, our conversation
turned slow and warm, just like the autumn day there. The sky above the hills
to the north was filled with para-gliders, who came down one by one soaring over
the lake, dipping and catching the current again, whoops of joy filling up the
silent, lazy air. The sun shone behind them creating tiny halos as they glided
past. The vast lake sparkled like million diamonds.
The long enchanting trek through the forest of ancient, gnarled immense
trees covered with moss and ferns. The silence was calming and meditative; our
voices seemed too loud and harsh. The forest was dense and dark in parts and
when the sun filtered in through the gaps, the light amongst the trees was
magical.
As we climbed up the ridge, the snow peaks of the Annapurna range
opened up before us. It was a brilliantly clear morning with cloudless cerulean
sky, cold breeze and a bright sun warming our backs. We stood for a while
there, listening. Over the sound of the wind, we could hear the murmurs of the
river flowing deep below.
The many conversations we had over millet chang at a local joint in
Pokhara, the childlike fights over trust and control, the warm fuzzy high, and
huddling close as we walked the long way back to our lodge late at night.
A day spent just lying among the overgrown grass in the local park
with dragonflies and butterflies fluttering around, and gazing at the blue sky and
the leaves of the trees as they danced with the wind. The surrounding
mountains, warm golden sun, distant sound of people passing by, and no soul to
disturb you, it was a day that required no conversations.
Sitting by the riverside on a cold night under a star-filled sky,
smoking up joints that kept us warm, and having even warmer conversations about
life and future. As the night stretched,
the bond between us got stronger.
The dreamlike Diwali night at Patan Durbar Square where history
merged with the present, age-old traditions blended with the enthusiasm of the
youth; that moment when he held me tightly, protectively, as masked dancers passed
by blowing fire in the air.
These were some of the moments where I felt that time had stood
still, where I wanted time to stretch forever. Because somewhere in all those
moments, I was reminded once again of the true essence of friendship, trust, warmth,
and caring – the meanings of which I had somehow lost in the cities. I was
reminded once again of letting go and being free.
