The Mountain Stories

It felt like a big relief when the sky started opening up after a hard toil up the
mountain for more than five hours. Before that, the only view we had been seeing was the
steep dry rocky wall in front of us or the rocky mountain on the other side.

A cool breeze swept through us. Patches of cow-dung dotted the path before us; a
familiar smell - cows or goats - evoked our sense of olfactory. A sign of life nearby - a
welcome sign after walking through the lifeless path all morning and half the day.

But, when the sky fully opened up in front of us, it was not the cows that we saw first.

Langtang Lirung stood bold, confident and erect in front of us. Laden with white snow-mass on its flanks before caving in a little and tapering into a pointed triangle at the top, it appeared to be commanding the lower peaks of the Langtang range that cascaded behind it, in the frontlines of a battle.

We were standing on Nagthali - a wide grassland 3200 metres above sea level - on top of a mountain opposite the Langtang Lirung. We were mere midgets in front of the 7200-metre high Langtang Lirung, but it felt we could touch the peak with extension of our arms.

Lantang Lirung was to the east. To the north, we could see the cascaded peaks of the Kerung Range. Behind us, to the west, we could see Shyangden. But, it was Langtang Lirung that drew all our attention. Our eyes were fixed on its incredible beauty - as if we were held by a spell.


We walked here and there on the wide grassland. We lied flat on the grass - that felt much more comfortable than luxury carpets in our city homes - and stared at Langtang Lirung, as if held by a spell cast upon us by it. We could have easily spent hours there.

But we had to move on. We had to find shelter before it fell dusk. Next time any of us go there, we all agreed, we will go there with tents and camping stuff. Reaching Naagthali and not spending at least a day there is regretful event.