To everything that does not go as planned

 It was now my turn to identify myself and explain why I was there. Even though I knew the answer in my head, once I started talking, I couldn't help but underline how much I enjoy trekking. I even mentioned that I would not know how miserable I would go if I didn’t trek. it is true that since my very first Himalayan trek in 2016, my passion for trekking has only gotten stronger. 

We were a group of 24 people along with 2 trek guides and one trek leader. My first reaction as we sat down for our first briefing in the common area was that it is a quite big group to trek with. It didn't disturb me because I was completely focused on my journey. Then it was simply about me going on a trek.

I was ready for whatever discomfort that could arise during the hike. In truth, this journey wasn't simply another trek; I wanted to step out of my comfort zone. 

It wasn't my first winter trek, so I had an edge in knowing what to expect. I expected sleepless nights, unbearable cold, the discomfort of sleeping in sleeping bags, the frustration of removing and wearing shoes, especially at night in freezing cold weather, but the most uncomfortable part was the 7-hour journey to base camp through Uttarakhand's Ghat sections. And, based on my previous experiences, it is the most distressing portion of the whole event.

My passion of hiking and perseverance kept me from backing down from my desire to go on a trek. I was mentally prepared; more importantly, as said earlier, this was an attempt to move out of my comfort zone.

As a result, I opted to focus solely on my hike. I had many reasons to be there other than my passion of trekking. Not only was I trekking after three years in Himalayas, I also wanted to get to the summit since I'd heard about the experience and wondered how it felt. Naturally, I trained hard for the expedition. I had a goal, and I didn't want to be concerned about my physical abilities. I was also curious about putting my physical fitness to the test. I wanted to put my hard work to the test. I believe I carried with me the idea that I was not fit to reach the summit. I was mistaken.

I endured many discomforts that I had prepared myself for. I went three nights without sleep in a row. Not even an hour each night. I remember when a fellow trekker asked me what I did all night if I couldn't sleep, and I simply replied that I was waiting for the night to end. I expected this would happen, so I had no complaints. However, it eventually took a toll on my spirit. What an irony that it happened on the day we were supposed to climb the summit. The first thing I told my tent partner as we prepared to travel at 4 a.m. was that I was done and wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. I wanted to reach Summit, call it a hike, and return home; it had become a task. 

The Himalayas are always stunning to me. Mountains are always whole to me, whether I see them from a tent or a summit. But this trek was different, I had a goal. Despite it when I realized this was becoming torment, I decided to stop. I was really sleepy, fatigued, and unmotivated to reach the summit.  I was so close and could see the gorgeous snow-covered peak. Even then, all I could think of was the labor and suffering I'd have to endure to reach the top. I say this because I became lazy or simply gave up; I'm not sure. Did it affect me then? Not for a second. I was overjoyed when I was able to climb down a little bit and sit comfortably. I was relieved and completely at ease. I had no concerns about my decision to not go further.

I was eating an apple handed to me as a trail snack in the morning and patiently waiting for others to return from the summit when something unexpected happened. Someone called for me on the Walkie Talkie my trek guide was using to coordinate with other trek members. He had to climb down with me since a guide cannot abandon a trekker behind. He was clearly unhappy about the situation, but I was simply relieved to be at rest. Anyway, he handed me the walkie-talkie and said your brother wanted to talk to you. Hearing that confused me. My brother, I thought. It was just not feasible. 

It was a fellow trekker. It was this sweet, wonderful 18-year-old boy I met on trek, not to mention had great hair and absolutely gorgeous face. I heard him exclaim, "Where are you, Di, why aren't you here? Why didn't you come up?"

It was the most unexpected thing to happen. All this time, I was concentrated on my trek and preparation, with the goal of reaching the top. And then this boy called and said he missed me. I was unprepared for this moment.

I asked him how he felt about being on top, and he said, "It would have been better if you were there." I burst into tears immediately. 

I was so moved by such a simple act and so full of love. The feeling is indescribable. Who would have thought not climbing to the summit will bring me the most beautiful moment of this journey. 

That very second, I decided to write about it and dedicate the article to My little brother. This is for you Kiddo. Thank you for being on this trek and making it so much fun.

After a while, I could see my fellow trekkers returning from the summit. I began my journey back to the campsite. At the camp site, Couple of trucks were ready to drop us off at the base camp, from which we had started trekking on the first day.

At last, we reached back at base camp and gotten freshen up. Had our mid day snacks and gathered for our last debriefing session. We were invited to pause and reflect on our journey. It was simple yet powerful act. I could read room’s vibe and it was filled with nothing but joy and happiness. We had become a family. Everyone was extremely nice and helpful, and I have to say it was a gift to share this trek experience with such amazing people. 

We finally cut the cake and got ready for dinner. The food was wonderful. We had "Gulab Jamun" as dessert. It was a proof that God existed.

Now that I'm writing this article and reflecting on these great events, it feels like time sped by. Hiking through lush green forest, traversing the river whose sound the water produced was the most peaceful, listening to chirping of birds, sensing the lovely sunlight on my face, Gazing stars at night, Watching the first light of day peeking over a massive snow mountain. It was magic.

Not to add, conversations with fellow trekkers, grumbling about washing our utensils four times a day, making fun of each other, singing songs randomly while climbing, breaking laws and establishing our own trail path (apparently just applies to me), exclaiming over the amazing divine food that was prepared for us on the trip, rushing to choose the tent with flat ground, cautious rolling of the hygiene bag, waiting for chai in the afternoon, embarrassing our trek leader by mimicking him. What a wonderful time.

Along with these great recollections, something more came to light. I guess I experienced my first taste of remorse. I had been preparing to attain Summit and was so determined to do so that when the opportunity presented itself, I chose not to. It didn't feel like a miss then, but it did on my way back home.

I've been beating myself up for the past few days because, despite the fact that I was so near to Summit and well prepared, I opted to let go. What was more difficult to accept was that if I wanted to achieve Summit, I could, but I didn't. I felt a load in my chest, and coping with this information became tough. 

The more I thought back on that instance, the stronger the feeling became. The feeling had been unfamiliar to me my entire life, and suddenly I was completely covered in regret.

However, it was short-lived. 

I reflected on that exact moment one last time. It was so evident to me that if I were back there in the same situation, without the knowledge I now have of the ramifications, what would I do? I wouldn't alter anything about what happened. I would not decide otherwise.

It is only my wider viewpoint that I now have, thanks to what I decided then, and I am confident of reaching the pinnacle the next time. If I didn't mention it earlier, I wasn't inspired to reach the summit; it was a task. However, things will not be the same the following time. 

I expected to have regrets now, but instead, I hit the jackpot. A new me with a fresh viewpoint and a greater opportunity for a different finale to a journey. 

I owe it to my blunders, to an older version of myself, because I now have a greater opportunity at a fulfilling existence.

This trek was everything I didn’t expect it to be.  I believe that is something. 

Have a good day!