Lt-Gen Baljit Singh (retd)

“If we were doomed to live forever, we would scarcely be aware of the beauty around us.” — Peter Mathiessen

I had a promise to keep since long many years and when at last opportunity gestured, we promptly boarded an Indian Airlines flight to Leh, choosing seats which looked out on the right-hand side. Visibility was excellent, and flying past the Zoji La, we were rewarded for several minutes with the stunning visual of the twin Nun and Kun summits against blue skies, awash in mellow morning sun! About a decade back, we had walked past them after descending the Pensi La en route Kargil but in the instant case, looking down from up above this composite setting of the peaks, a cascading glacier, greenery of the verdant Suru valley and the briefest glimpse of Padam village far out in distant Zanskar, all offered an experience to cherish.

Back in the 1970s, tourist presence in Ladakh was almost non-existent and acclimatisation walks in the countryside around Leh had the elements of both privacy and friendly tete-a-tete with passersby, always smiling and courteously calling out “Jhulay” in a welcome greeting.

By the third morning, we were fit to set out for Darbuk and onward to the western shore of the Pangong Tso. We pitched our tents in the close vicinity of Lakung village which offered us an enchanting view of the lake’s blue waters in sharp contrast to the pale brown and grey ridges beyond. An hour past midnight, our guide, courtesy the Ladakh Scouts, opened the flaps of our tent, handed mugs of piping hot tea and a marching order, “Shaab, ek ghantey baad ridge top ko chalaan gey”! The idea was to gain the highest spot about 2000 feet above on the Lakung ridge. This would give a panoramic view from the south to the north of the lake as well as Fort Kunarak, Konka La, Aksai Chin, and even the Karakoram Pass.

We breathed a sigh of relief standing upon the vantage spot with barely time for a cup of hot coffee (lukewarm by then) before the first rays of dawn lit up the farthest horizon. We stayed anchored on site till mid-day to witness the kaleidoscopic changes of colour tints caused by the continuous shifting angle of the sun’s rays upon both the waters of Pangong and the vast labyrinth of mountains and valleys. But the magic of dusk we would savour the following evening striding at leisurely pace southward, to Chushul village.

May be a paragraph borrowed from Frank Smythe’s writings best capture the mystery and magic of our tryst with Pangong Tso, thus;

“And so from the hills we return refreshed in body, in mind and in spirit to grapple anew with life’s problems… for a while we have lived simply, wisely and happily; we have adventured well. The hills have taught us to be content in our faith and in the love of God who created them”.