My Journey of Discovery

By Rattan Zutshi

Having got disillusioned with life in mega cities teeming millions, utter poverty co-exist with super rich, the falsehood, the cheating, lying, the total lack of honesty, the author decides to leave all that behind and head into the Himalayas hoping to find truth, peace, contentment, compassion, lack of greed, lust of power, etc. His journey takes him through the lush green cedar forest of Himachal Pradesh to the tribal belt of Lahaul, Spiti and Kinnaur with its raw, dry, barren and rocky landscape bereft of any vegetation. He meets and interacts with these tribals living in the harshest conditions, learning about their origins, culture and traditions. His journey takes him to various Buddhist monasteries scattered all over dating back centuries. He desires to learn and see more takes him to Ladakh with its predominant Buddhist religion. Criss-crossing Ladakh, He ventures towards the Siachein glacier crossing the highest motorable road in the world, Khar-Dung- La where he discovers the harsh realities in which the Indian Soldier braves sub-zero temperatures at heights of 20-22,000 ft. guarding Indian borders. Traveling all the time he crosses Kargil and Drass The second coldest inhabited region in the world after Siberia and onto Zanskar, this being the remotest region of the Himalayas with its distinct culture, almost frozen in time. Finally he moves into Kashmir, a state torn by constant conflict having suffered four wars since 1947 with the displacement of the Kashmiri Pundits (Hindus) who are forced to flee on account of militancy and insurgency in 1989-90. He tried to understand both sides of the story but is left shattered by the destruction of this Paradise on Earth. He also visits the migrants camps where the K.P.ees live in squalid and unhygienic conditions. What he discovers leaves him with pain and horror.
His is a journey of self discovery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Jan 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781482841404

Rattan Zutshi

Rattan Zutshi graduated from the National Academy in Pune India and commissioned by the Indian Navy. He specializes in Gunnery and Missile warfare and commanded Naval war ship and establishment. As well as served in numerous staff appointments at headquarters. He retired in June 1987 in the rank of commander and has travelled extensively to Hong Kong, Singapore, The Philippines, Australia, Maldives, Middle East, Russia etc. He did a stint with the UN (WHO, UNICEF) as Chief Administrator of Impact India Foundation. He is a keen sportsman and has played cricket, polo and took part in show jumping. He knows languages like English, Hindi, Urdu, Kashmiri and French.

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Copyright © 2016 . All rights reserved.

ISBN

978-1-4828-4141-1 (sc)

978-1-4828-4140-4 (e)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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01/15/2016

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Introduction

Part I

Himachal Pradesh

CHAPTER - 1

Part II

CHAPTER - 2

Lahoul Spiti Kinnaur

CHAPTER - 1

CHAPTER -2

CHAPTER - 3

CHAPTER - 4

CHAPTER - 5

CHAPTER - 6

CHAPTER - 7

CHAPTER - 8

CHAPTER - 9

PART - II

On to ladakh

CHAPTER - 1

CHAPTER - 2

CHAPTER - 3

CHAPTER - 4

CHAPTER - 5

CHAPTER - 6

CHAPTER - 7

CHAPTER - 8

CHAPTER - 9

CHAPTER - 10

Part - IV

Lojila and beyond

CHAPTER -1

CHAPTER - 2

CHAPTER - 3

CHAPTER -4

CHAPTER -5

CHAPTER -6

CHAPTER -7

CHAPTER -8

CHAPTER -9

CHAPTER -10

CHAPTER -11

CHAPTER -12

Conclusion

DEDICATION

To the great Himalaya & its beautiful people

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My Journey of Discovery

Rattan Zutshi

Introduction

A Long time ago I read Somewhere that you can look at life in two ways: whatever happens is fated to happen, nothing is a miracle or everything that happens is a miracle. The former is a fatalistic view while the latter philosophical. I am of the latter view. Each day all around I see miracle take place: the changing seasons, the sunrise in the East, the flowering and fruiting of the trees and shrubs, the birth of a baby, the creation of life, the evolutionary process, mother earth still surviving despite all attempts by man to destroy her.

During my travel I witnessed a new world, a new people, a new type of human bondage. I found myself in a world where politics, cheating, lying, the lust for power, name, fame and wealth did not have any meaning, where life carried on without any of these human weaknesses, where everything was in harmony, in tune with nature. Each day unfolded a new miracle, be it the lush green forests, the wild flowers, the fruit orchards, the fast flowing rivers, the towering snow capped peaks or the dry barren rugged terrain of Ladakh the hot sulpher springs, hundereds of different herbs provided by nature for all ailments the small fountain heads of water transforming into mighty roaring rivers. I met and lived amongst the people of these areas and learnt that life can go on peacefully without hatred, bitterness, envy, jealousy, caste, creed or religion. Despite different languages and cultures, I witnessed communities co-exist.

Being human I could not help being touched by the simplicity and sincerity of these mountain tribes and found my own fixed ideas, attitudes and feelings undergo a change. I lived amongst Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, receiving unconditional love and affection.

My experience of big metropolis’s like Mumbai and Delhi was the same. The heat, the humidity, the dust, the pollution, the overwhelming crowds. Power cuts, shortage of water. The annual ritual of floods and droughts. The tidal wave of humanity rushing around. No order, no semblance of sanity. The sweat lined faces, unwashed stained clothes, the weariness in tired eyes, the grey 2/3 days stubble on unshaven faces in over crowded buses and trains. Some dozing, some gazing into nothingness. The plastic bags, bidi and cigarette butts, drains overflowing with sewage water. Left over food lying around with children and dogs fighting to grab a bite. The poverty, the half naked beggars. Every one trying in his or her own way to eke out a living. The covered sheds in slums, the J.J. colonies, the home to these forgotten and forsaken souls, scattered every where like ants, next to luxurious high rise buildings, spittting, defecating, eating, sleeping all at their so called home. Life and death dancing naked as if to remind one another that survival was the only priority.

The more I saw this, the more disillusioned and frustrated I became and wanted to see if anything better existed, if there was some place where life and nature were in harmony, I got obsessed with the idea to experience the other side of the coin, I wished to see the face of contentment and happiness.

My mind was made up. I got rid of all my earthly possessions except a few bags of clothes and my second hand car and finally at 4:00 a.m. one morning took my few belongings (3 bags), got into my car and bid adieu to the mega city. I did not know it at that time but my Journey of Discovery had begun. I was on my way to Manali (H.P.).

Rattan Zutshi

MAP OF HIMACHAL PRADESH

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Himachal Pradesh

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CHAPTER - 1

I had no knowledge of the route to Manali but knew that I had to pass throught Chandigarh. By noon I stopped at Chandigarh to have lunch at a small road side restaurant (Dhaba). They serve the most delicious and cheep fresh food. No fear of food poisoning. I continued and headed toward Shimla thinking that Manali lay ahead. By about 4:00pm I was tired and stopped for the night at a small motel. It had a breath taking view of the shivaliks. As darkness descended, small twinkling lights, like stars, from far away homes made the view even more heavenly. Being early October it was very pleasant and cool. Early the next morning I took off again being told by the manager that I had come the wrong way but should turn left just short of Shimla which would take me to Bilaspur where I would meet the national highway onto Kullu and Manali. At about 1:00 pm I stopped at a small village for a break.

Here I learnt that the main highway to Manali was from Chandigarh to Ropar, kiratpur, Bilaspure, Sunder Nagar, Mandi and Kullu. But in a way my mistake was compensated by the scenic beauty around me. The small hamlets en-route with old wooden and mud houses. I stopped at one of those mud houses and shared some lemon tea with the owner. They were very hospitable and their little children, very curious, sat around me. They asked me questions about myself, about Delhi, Bombay and Movie stars etc. Then without a bit of hesitation and shyness they sang some himachali songs for me.

It was a wonder full experience. Soon a small crowd of children gathered from other huts and time was forgotten.Suddenly looking at my watch I realized that it was getting late, so I begged leave of them and started on my journey to Bilaspur. By the time, I got to Bilaspur it was late evening. While looking for a place to spend the night, I came across the circuit house and asked for a room explaining that I was a traveler. The manager was helpful and gave me a room for the night.

It was an old building built by the British with big spacious room & wooden floors. After washing up I went to the market and had a meal. Early next day I departed and arrived at Sunder Nagar around 9:00 am and stopped for breakfast. I crossed Mandi at noon. Crossed Kullu and stopped at a small restaurant on the bank of river Beas and that was my lunch break. It was also near the place where the white water rafters start their journey by rubber dingies down the fast flowing Beas through the rapids.Off again into the unknown. I had no idea where I was going to live and for how long but the beauty, serenity the towering great mountain walls had already give me a high and some how I knew that this would be my retreat for a long time. As I approached Manali crossing Raison and Patlikull, I had my first glimpse of the snow capped peaks in the distance and was drawn towards them like a magnet. It is difficult to describle the emotions But I felt like I was in a dream world and wake up any moment to find myself back in the dust, the heat and grime of big cities.

Finally by evening I was in Manali not Knowing a soul, not having any idea about the people. Being a tourist spot I was sure that the Hotels would have incredibly high fares. But I had heard that there were many cottages which were very reasonable during the off season period. On the way to Aleo (New Manali) I saw a board ‘Greff’ Border Road Org. and a Jawan at the security barrier. Identifying myself I was allowed inside and went to the commanding officer. He turned out to be a very helpful person and offered me a room in the officer mess for a week. He give me some tips on cottages and the prevailing rates. In fact he rang up one M.C. Thakur who came to meet me the next morning so that we could go and look around for a suitable accommodation.

We drove the whole of Manali and must have seen about 7/8 cottages. Finally I liked one, which had 3 bedrooms, kitchen, fully carpeted and furnished with T.V. and a beautifull fireplace. It had a small lawn and a heavenly view. In fact it was better then a 5 star hotel. The deal was struck at Rs 8000/- pm till April, since May, June & July were tourist season when it would be rented out on a daily basis at the rate of Rs. 2000/-. But Thakur who turned out to be the owner of the cottage promised to find a suitable room during that period. The cottage had an attendant who did all the house work including cooking. I was thrilled. I had arrived with my car and three bags. I moved in after a week. Early the next morning, I went out into the garden and took in the scenery sipping hot tea. There was crispness in the air. I could see the Beas at a distance and to the left was the Rohtang Range. The garden was lush with roses, cresanthemums, dahlias and marry gold. Every thing was full of color, each Dahlia was the size of a cauliflower, red, yellow, white, and of different hues.

A few days later, I drove down to the market-The Mall. It is about half a km long with shops, restaurants, tea stalls. There were also the basement markets ‘The Dragon’, ‘Ibex’, ‘Hongkong’, with Tibetans selling goods mainly got from Ladakh, Tibet and Nepal, jewellery watches, shoes, jackets shawls and other trinkets.

I bought myself a pair of trekking shoes and a leather jacket after much haggling. Also bought some vegetables, rice, atta, dals, masala etc. for my kitchen. My man Friday’s name was joginder Singh. I had my first self cooked lunch sitting out in the garden under a sun umbrella. The experience was inexplicable with High mountains all around and the apple trees full of fruit ready for packaging. Winter had not yet set in.

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THE MALL MANALI

For the next few days. I did not venture out and then one day I decided to go for a long walk going uphill. After about half an hour I came to a small village Shyal. Came across an open air school. A resident sunder Singh invited me to have a cup of lemon tea. I found the people very simple, cheerful and hospitable.