At the edge of adventure: Dzongri Diaries

Waiting with our rucksacks at Howrah station.

Rucksacks packed with essentials to survive. Arms and legs stretch to absorb the incoming onslaught of adventure. One’s sack is strapped firmly about the waist and shoelaces tied dexterously. Bandana covering the neck and hair tied in a strong braid. Muscles flex and knuckles crack as one loads the luggage on the shoulders and steps out of the flat, house or mess room.

The eyes. They are glowing with an unmatched aura of confidence. Boy or girl, each trek mate among us had this fighting spirit preserved within. A radiant glow of strength basks against our straining limbs and muscles.

Clothes wait to get dirty, shoes wait to be splashed in mud, and bodily odours wait to set in. Knees and arms soft with moisturizing cream wait to dry up and painfully scrape against the edge of jagged rocks. It was like we were about to hurl ourselves at unforeseen dilemmas, lay ourselves bare before waves of challenges.

Trekking shoes stomp about energetically yet in coordination. A sense of camaraderie pervades the group. It was as if we live, breathe together. We put our heads together and brace for the challenges ahead. Eyes meet, words exchange, and smiles brighten up the fraternal atmosphere.

We heave and sigh, and wait for the train to arrive. Mountains are calling. Birds fly around and chirp in the fading light, signalling the time of dusk. The digital clock is glowing with the numbers 5:30. The train hoots, we gather our sacks and materials and head towards our compartment.