Nagthali – Part IV
Ganesh himal from nagthali

The terrain becomes vacant of life forms except trees and shrubs, and the trail gloating immersion into curves. The walking effort needed to reach Nagthali from Brindang is easily dismissed, because the self disappears, and the ego evacuates among the cloak of clouds floating with you.

All the while the imposing Langtang II (6561 m) mirrors the scale of dominion it casts upon the deep valleys and gorges. With all my senses active, the only living souls I come across are two eagles struggling hard to make their flight above the clouds. Not surprisingly, they may be just as amused as myself to see a moving object, and to their glee, a potential meal. While they continue to hover above me, I react to my temptation of taking few photos of them. But the pounding altitude heartbeats convince my muscles to move on with the climb, and I succumb to the decision.

Read Previous Blogs:

Tamang Heritage Trail, Langtang – Nagthali Part I

Nagthali – Part II

Nagthali– Part III

Before I come out of the cocoon of thoughts swimming in my head, I realize I am already above the clouds at 3300 m. I grin with swathes of mirth, either because the eagles are no longer hovering like helicopters or because I could see broken spectra of my own shadow cast upon the clouds below. I could not decide. And maybe it was not necessary. I was just quintessentially looking at the orchestra of nature, and listening to the symphony carried through the clouds.

Nagthali arises at hindsight, and true to its rumors – it inhabits four lodges, all serve to meet your basic needs of shelter, food, and discharge. However, the water service may be questionable – either frozen or muddy – depending on which time of the year one arrives. But is that the first thing I am concerned with when I am flooded with an embrace of the mountains, so close so that I could hear my own heartbeat echoing in absolute silence of the evening? Not the least.

I stand in awe, paralyzed at the magnificence of Mother Nature. Any visual expression or photograph will do no justice to the feeling of being there – above the white flat cloak of clouds and the soft evening sunlight lighting the tops of snow-capped mountains. The radiance is reflected in my soul, and I lay bare for the cold wind to penetrate each cell of my being, and wash out stains of impurity. There is so much beauty in this land, if we know the secrets of where to find it. And I think I just found one piece of it, and like no other, it fills in the blank just as an artist fills in colors in his canvas to project his imagination of beauty.

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