Crossing Over

This clearly does not bode well – I am boxed in by a thorny, sparsely vegetated incline I just stumbled down, and a raging five meter wide river ahead. I have Pragya, another trekker, for company.

The river is deep, it’s clear enough to see the rocks below. It’s early morning - the blue of the sky is fading to white. As the day grows, so will the river. Nature is unforgiving and harsh. And I am only about 5’2”.

It’s not that I didn’t have warning, just not warning enough. I asked for directions from a local named Tenzin, at the nearest Lahauli village we passed by a few hours ago. With the characteristic nonchalance of the Lahaulis, voice lilting pleasantly, he told us we would come across a river, and to cross it barefoot, looking with mild disdain at our shoes. He offered me a rope from his shack, hand cupping his elbow. This is a sign of respect amongst the Lahaulis, and it was validation – respect from a local.

Pragya hands me one end of the rope, and ties the other end around her waist, and with it, our fates together. She has never crossed a river this wide before. I look at the never-ending width of the roaring water, and my mind blanks out, I hope in an attempt to channel the ancient river-crossing wisdom of my ancestors.

I step cautiously onto a rock, and my legs promptly go numb – the water is ice-cold. Pragya follows, and suddenly I realize she should have gone first, she’s more experienced. It’s too late now. We navigate three more rocks, which grow slippery. The rapidly-growing volume of frigid water is now up to our chests.

We keep moving onwards, the water draining away confidence from wherever it touches, and occasionally breaking over us, which is terrifying. I have never known water to be this malicious. My instincts tell me to not fight this massive volume of ice-cold water. I can’t tell if Pragya is on the other end of the rope, but I dare not check.

In a burst of energy, I slip over the next few rocks through sheer luck and land, gasping, on the other end. Relief courses through me, replacing the adrenaline I didn’t know was there. I look back, and Pragya is only a few feet away, still struggling. I see my relief reflected in her face, because now we are safe. She stumbles over, and collapses next to me, shivering with cold and excitement.

I sit up, soaked in dignity and pride, sending out a silent message to the world. Both of us now knew a secret most people don’t. The river is only terrifying the first time you see it.