In my previous note, I wrote about our trek to Everest Base Camp (EBC) and the internal journey we took. But the Himalayas are not just about trekkers or even the mountains. The mountains are alive because of the people who live there, and they are sacred because of the people who sleep there forever.

There are two things that touched my heart deeply during this trip. One brought tears to my eyes, and the other brought a smile to my face.

The Memorials at Thukla Pass

Just before we reach Lobuche, there is a steep climb called the Thukla Pass. It is a hard climb. You are out of breath when you reach. But when you reach the top, the wind suddenly feels different. You are greeted by hundreds of stone memorials (chortens).

This is the resting place for the brave souls, mountaineers and Sherpas, who passed away in the lap of the Himalayas. It is a beautiful but haunting place. You see names etched on stones, surrounded by prayer flags fluttering in the wind. These are people who came looking for adventure but met with mortality.

The Sherpas: Our Superhumans

If the memorials remind us of death, the Sherpas remind us of vibrant, unstoppable life. I often feel that the word SHERPA is actually an acronym:

Their fitness is simply out of this world. We, the so-called “fit” trekkers, would reach our destination, say, Gorakshep at 5,164 meters, looking for rest. We would be even waiting to lie down, just wanting a blanket. But then, we would look out the window. What did we see? The same Sherpas, who had walked faster than us carrying double our weight, were outside playing volleyball on the snow!

They don’t just survive here… they thrive. They are fully acclimatized, strong, and always energetic. But more importantly, they take the responsibility of our safety very seriously. To them, we are not just clients… we are family.

“Just a Bit Zig-Zag”

Our guide for the trip was Mr. Pema Gyltsen Sherpa. He was a thorough professional, deeply caring, with a very subtle sense of humour.

When you are tired, the only question you want to ask the guide is, “How much longer?”

Whenever we asked, “How much more time, Pemaji?”, he would smile and say: “Idhar hi hai sir, bas thoda zig-zag.”

We quickly learned his language. Coming from Pema, “zig-zag” didn’t mean a curvy flat road. It meant a steep, breathless ascent! If Pema said “zig-zag,” we knew we had to tighten our shoelaces and prepare for a tough climb.

By the time we finished the trek, we felt so attached to him. He was our leader, our protector, and our friend. Even now, back in the comfort of my home and hospital, whenever I hear the word “zig-zag” in any context, I smile. I remember the thin air, the white snow, and our Pemaji guiding us towards the EBC.

Taste Life Before It Melts

The memorials taught us silence.

The Sherpas taught us strength.

And the mountains taught us balance.

I want to tell you one thing: Don’t think this is impossible for you. You don’t need to be a superhuman to experience this. With a little bit of fitness regime and a quick consult with your doctor (especially if you have any health conditions), you can definitely plan a trek. in the Himalayas. It doesn’t have to be Everest. Even smaller treks in the Himalayas can completely change your outlook towards life.

We get so stuck in our daily grind… the home, the office, the hospital, the routine. We often forget that there is a huge, beautiful world out there waiting for us. These breaks are very important. We must take them to realize that we are more than just our jobs and our roles. So, please, try to take that break. Go to the mountains. Taste life before it melts away like snow.