Kailash: The Why…

This post is part of a travel recollection from Kailash Mansarovar Yatra 2018 via Lipulekh. For a list of posts in their sequence please refer to the following link:

Kailash Mansarovar Yatra : The beginning…

It was a warm afternoon in Delhi. I was sitting at the lab of Delhi Heart and Lung Institute, a super speciality hospital where the pilgrims, also called as “Yatri”s are called for health checks prior to the start of the journey for the Kailash Mansarovar Yatra.

All this, for the simple reason that the journey to the Sacred lands of Kailash region through the conventional route of Lipulekh challenges ones physical fitness and endurance.

I was waiting for my X ray, when one of the fellow yatris started interacting with me. After some background, he asked me what brought me here, especially a single girl, taking the trip through the more difficult route when some more comfortable travel options are available.

I started thinking about it. I looked at the lot. There were people from all corners of India. They belonged to all sorts of backgrounds, had different believes and perhaps to each one the yatra meant different things. What did it mean to me then?

It meant the feeling of fulfilment of a dream. I know, cliché, isn’t it? Everyone that goes there must have dreamt of achieving this feat for some time! But the dream was as much mine as it was that of my father’s. No, he was not an ardent devotee of Lord Shiva, not even close. But he was the best man I know.

It was a homage to a dad from his daughter. You know the kind of pleasant feeling that you derive from being close to a fire when it is cold? Himalayas is that fire that provides the warmth of being near one of our common liking.

They say all positive souls go to the region of Kailash at the end of their mortal existence. So I guess that was a reason too. The urge to be closer to the feeling of being near dad.

I also carried a question for Shiva, like a hidden weapon, the question of why. And my question made my heart heavier than the backpack.

Love has different meanings for different people. Mine was expressed in the form of this trip, to my best friend I lost to the eternal truth of death, my dad.

But all of that was difficult, complicated and untimely to explain. So I just laughed and said after a reasonably long pause….”It just happened!” 🙂

And it was nothing but the truth…

The story continues in the next part…

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