Rohtang

 

 At 13000 feet,

The world should have looked different:

It did, at first.

Little snowflakes wafting in late autumn’s sky

Giant boulders heaped from a glacial past

Our escape from the city, what indeed a break

And then I see

A vendor on a cycle, selling bhel

Here in these dizzying heights?

Indeed, incredibly

His flattened pot, big and golden,

Shine like a rising sun

Maggi and tea, I had countless times

That day, perhaps it was the murmura’s turn

 

Salty yes, but they were a tad soggy

Perhaps it is the snowflakes and the soft hail;

What makes you come this far?

I wanted to hear

More of this ardent vendor’s tale:

He had come from some hamlet far below

At this height, we coudn’t stand and breathe in free

Yet he had exerted this far above,

Some cyclist he had to be

Babu, the snow will choke the roads and us

For six months, we are cut off from the rest

Hence, a few more paisa to stock some food

It stuck me more than the graupel cold

Harsh indeed was the winter’s test

I bought bhel for all the summer souls

Knowing well, they would complain and cry

Its too salty! Its too soggy!

Cheats even on these dizzying heights -

And even on a sunny day, clouds continue to sigh

You could clearly see

Two winters come down the Himalayan pass

One laced with coffee, chocolate, warmth

Crores from the sale of land

The other, huddled around a small fire

Waiting to see, the melting snow, the green of grass

Winter - brooding, full of white and gray

Yet the sun would shine, in a flattened pot

Big and golden, waiting to rise again, some other day…

 

Inspired by true events

Cover image: noisypilgrims.com