THE OLD TRAVELER

The Turbulence

It was noon now. Its been 4 hours and more than a 100kms since he left Leh. Gampo's fuel gauge was nearing 'E'. Amidst the consternation of not being able say good bye to Oni, Gampo had forgotten to fill up his bike. He didn't know how far his bike would go on the remaining fuel. Gampo wondered if he could reach Tangtse, where his friends would be waiting for him. They had extra fuel in jerry cans. The last settlement he passed on road was Durbuk, and he knew he hadn't crossed Tangtse.
Unavoidably, Gampo's bike came to a halt after some time. There was not a milestone, no settlements, not a single human soul; just the single endless road and the humongous barren mountains through which the road passed. He didn't know exactly where he was, he only knew that he was somewhere between Durbuk and Tangtse. After initial panic, he sat down for a bit, calmed himself down, had some water that he had carried with him and weighed his options - he could wait for someone to pass by and ask for help or he could just push his bike on foot - may be Tangtse wasn't that far away. Waiting would entail risks however - perhaps there will be no passers by for days, his food and water stock will be over and he would starve, while the latter might turn out to be a fool's errand, who knows how far Tangtse is. It would involve having to wage a fight against nature - the mighty Himalayas, the greatest mountain range of all, the scorching sun, and a seemingly endless road. It was almost doomed to fail, but miracles do happen, he thought. A man of action as he was, he chose not to wait.

[An hour of pushing later]...

He pushed his bike and kept on pushing, Tangtse was no closer than it was earlier. The landscape grew more and more desolate. As such, Gampo was not religious, his thoughts even sometimes bordered on atheism. But at that moment, all he could do was pray. His drinking water was nearly over, and there was not a stream in sight. He wondered if the wind horses atop these naked mountains would carry his prayers to someone who could come and help him.
It was now almost two hours since his engine shut off; his muscles, overburdened with the weight of his bike and luggage, were starting to cramp. His heart rate was high and oxygen levels low. He was nearing desperation. "Ki ki so so lhargyalo", he kept on murmuring. It was a Ladakhi phrase that he had learned from Oni (which meant May the Gods be Victorious). Ancient travellers and monks who passed through the rough and hostile mountain passes through Tibet and Ladakh by foot uttered this while tying the Peace Flag on the small rock temples atop the passes, asking for God's protection, she had told him. Today, Gampo was much alike an ancient traveller - the terrain seemed so rugged, the mountains seemed even larger and the sky so expansive, and there was not any modern technology which could be of help. Poor Gampo, who was the centre of attraction in his family, was no more than an insignificant nugatory figure in front of the indomitable landscape. He felt more and more helpless as minutes passed.
Just as he was about to give up, he saw a lone human figure walking down the road in the far off horizon as the road meandered into the mountains. There was some hope after all, a helpless but delighted Gampo thought. His waning speed picked up, now he started walking at a pace. He shouted - "julley julley" as he almost began to run. The small figure gradually seemed to be getting bigger and bigger as Gampo got nearer nearer. Gampo's happiness knew no bounds. But soon happiness turned into astonishment. It was Oni.