The Fogotten Land of Ladakh

Taken from a wee blog I had going in 2015

In the much disputed-over state of Jammu and Kashmir, hidden beyond the distant reaches of the Zoji-la Pass, exists this land of unparalleled beauty and splendour. This land is almost foreign to the very country it resides in; so much so that it harbours a vastly different climactic experience than the lands surrounding it.

Standing outside on a sunny day renders a view so unquestionably majestic that previous instances of greatness manage to fade out of existence. Mountains loom impossibly high, breaking through the wall that separates mortality from immortality, in all directions. Eyes strain as they try to capture all the folds and colours of these giants.

A cold and overcast day will provide the same magical experience. With wind whipping across your face, a single glance up to the high reaches of the Himalayas will not allow you to differentiate between the earth and the sky. Sipping a piping hot cup of coffee, one may stare for hours on end to view this heavenly unification just up to the point where a glimmer of sunshine emerges, finally separating the heavens from the land. But the magic doesn’t end there. The blanket of clouds eventually give way to a vibrant blue and a smattering of sunrays here and there. As much as Buddhism is followed in this land, the sun is always up for contention in the worshipping department.

Luckily for me, I have arrived in the few months of moderate warmth where the hottest days are at 30°C. These months are a source of confusion for Ladakhis who joyfully scamper around to find t-shirts and shorts in their deepest depths of storage. Like the Starks in A Song of Ice and Fire, it seems as though the most appropriate motto for the Ladakhis is Winter is Coming. However, that is all that these two groups of people have in common. The brooding nature of the ever-cautious Starks is contrasted by the joyful and impossibly cheerful demeanor of these mountainous people. One may say that the main struggle in this land (besides the deathly tendrils of cold) is finding someone who manages to wear a scowl.

These people are the sort of people who deserve their place on this planet. Simple and Happy are two words that aptly sum up these peoples characters. In fact, these people are so simple that the single word Julley means ‘Hello’, ‘Thank you’, ‘Goodbye’, ‘You’re Welcome’ and a host of others (if one is able to master the intonation with which this magical word may be spoken). A traffic jam is never met with any honking but is met with overly enthusiastic strangers, who somehow manage to know each other, getting out of their car to help relieve the congestion in this impromptu social gathering.

However, do not make the mistake of confusing simplicity with backwardness for these people have embraced the world outside, even though this embrace is oftentimes unrequited. Satellite dishes pepper roofs across this region almost as though a giant satellite dish has employed natures methods of dispersion to spread its little ones far and wide. Top quality bongs are on sale in shop windows for all to see and I’m not talking about Bengalis (take that Colorado)! Even Wi-Fi has been taken to the next level here. A restaurant that usually boasts incredible food or a clothing shop that sells top quality garments manage to place the availability of Wi-Fi on an equal standing as their primary commodities. A shop with goat heads littered around counters and goat legs hanging as closely as clothes in a fashionista’s cupboard also has found a way to boost its sales by offering Wi-Fi to those frequenting!

The eyes, however, are not the only sensory organs that are able to dine at the great feast that is Ladakh.

Every morning, the nose is graced with the smell of the customary chai while the night releases the fragrances of sizzling kebabs, if one brushes past a street corner.

The ears are greeted with the puttering of motorbike engines as adventurous roadies from the far reaches of earth choose this place as their destination of repose and excitement. The city center in Leh also bustles up its fair shares of yells and whispers as shop vendors collectively attempt to marginally improve their standard of living, one sale at a time. The office where I work is contrastingly filled with the quiet tapping of keyboards and the hushed shuffle of paper – a sort of evidence of the multi-faceted characteristics of these blessed people.

The tongue is by far the most pleasured organ, with food of unequalled taste ceaselessly entering the mouth from dusk to dawn. The hanging and drooling tongue can pick up whiffs of potential meat as one walks around the embankment of the river in Kargil (in an cruel form of beauty, bananas and goat carcasses are often found side by side in nearly all market areas). From the steamed momos to the blandly-termed-yet-finger-lickingly-good ‘meat’ that pops up on verbal menus in villages, there is not much to miss about city life.

A stranger in a foreign land, with foreign people who speak a foreign language, should really feel out of place here. But not me. The happiness of the people is like a drug to me while the simplicity is simply exhilarating. It feels ironic that the world’s most beautiful land still remains relatively untapped by the scheming minds outside but that adds to the charm.

Hidden greatness fused with the all-important humility…

My level of identification is complete.

My level of identification is complete.