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  • Sona Parmar

The Pilgrimage - Part 1

As I walk in the Himalayas, the snow crunches underfoot. My nose is cold, but my lungs refreshingly warm.


My waterproofs rustle and again I hear the crunch-crunch crunch-crunch of my boots.


The wind is crisp as the sun beats down. The snowy peaks in the distance are only just visible. The mist is ever-present.


It feels like the ultimate definition of the word spectacular.


I realise that the lack of a trekking pole is testing my agility. The perils of wanting to travel light: I have no daypack and a jacket that filled up like a human Swiss army knife. I decide to fashion my agility on a monkey rather than a cat. I have only one life, after all.


It’s fun climbing with a tail.


And then I hear the river before I see it: loud, fast powerful. The top is clear to reveal the clear, khaki-green depths below. There is a feeling that it has always been there and will always be there, never to run out of water, never to run out of energy.


The yaks on the banks are bemused. I think they have always been there too, like the rickety, wooden bridge to go across, straight out of a movie. Not something I would risk in even my bravest moments and yet, when the time came, over I went without a second thought.


It is our likes and dislikes that are the foundation of our karma. When we are able to get out of our own way and put them aside, we can begin to do what is necessary, to do what ought to be done - in the right time and in the right way.


This is when it all starts to unravel.


“Change means we get a little better, transformation means nothing of the old should remain.” (Sadhguru)


One month. Thirteen flights. The journey of self-unfoldment continues.


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