Ae Himala!

In early 2019, my friend Sharanya and I decided to pack our bags and go to Nepal. Fresh out of uni and already disillusioned by the world of working adults, it’s fair to say both of us were going through a pretty rough patch. Think disgruntled male office worker written by Imtiaz Ali (but with less character flaws and need for a manic pixie companion to fix their life). I phoned her up, barely able to keep myself from blubbering in public after a long and exhausting day at work. After many lamentations and a bit of mind cussing from both ends, I said, “Let’s go to Nepal da.” And she simply said, “Ok, da.”

And that was it. We decided our itinerary and booked everything in a week, desperate to get out Hong Kong. At that point we would have probably accepted human trafficking happily if it meant we got to go overseas.

Our journey looked like this: we had a layover in Delhi, and then a flight to Kathmandu in the morning. We landed in Delhi at around 1am. It was my first time on Indian soil, and the first thing I wanted to do was try a McAloo Tikki. I also wanted to spot a celebrity, but the closest thing we got to that was listening to Terminal 3’s Arijit Singh Radio [Udaas ver.] that played Arijit Singh songs nonstop. It even gave Shefali Vaidya a mental breakdown (lol).

It was a surreal experience, eating something I probably shouldn’t be eating so late at night in a food court where pigeons were fluttering around as if they were also airport staff. The McAloo Tikki was damn good.

We spent the rest of the night trying to sleep in an armchair in a cafe by folding ourselves into a pretzel. The key word is trying, which is why by the time the sun came up, Sharanya and I were – and there is no easy way to say it – delirious. We were functioning on nothing but airport fast food, gas, and vibes.

On our Kathmandu flight, we were surrounded by uncles and aunties who were all in high spirits (except for the bechara playing emo 50s Hindi songs; hope he’s feeling better now). Many of them were either returning back home or going on a pilgrimage. After all, Nepal is also known as the land of the gods. It’s home to many important sacred sites for Hindus and Buddhists.

An hour into the flight, the chatter around us suddenly grew more animated. Some of the elders stood up and leaned closer to the airplane windows. In true uncle fashion, they were peering intently at something beyond the windowpane with their hands clasped behind their back.

We looked outside to see what all the commotion was about and our hearts stopped. In the distant horizon stood a row of jagged white peaks, stretching on as far as the eye could see. We thought they were giant clouds at first because how can something be that big, that tall, that stupendous, that massive, that majestic etc. After a panicky debate about gas and mass, both of us experienced a full blown existential crisis when an air hostess confirmed that yes, they were in fact solid permafrost-covered Himalayan mountains. The same ones I’d dreamed of seeing since I was a kid, but could never quite conjure up in my mind even though I’d seen hundreds of photos of them.

There are few places on Earth where geography can inspire the human imagination to such a degree. The Himalayas are a part of a vast highland region that runs in a crescent for four thousand kilometers from Kyrgyzstan in the West to Myanmar in the East and includes the Pamir, Hindu Kush and Karakoram ranges. The tallest mountain in Hong Kong is a mere 957 metres; the average Himalayan mountain is about 6100 metres tall. Surely, you can see why Sharanya and I lost our minds for a bit on that flight.

This wasn’t going to be the only existential crisis we would have on our trip. But more on that another time!

I leave you with a small gift—an Allama Iqbal poem to celebrate the whirlwind of emotions human beings have felt throughout the ages when gazing at the Himalayas.

‘Himala’ by Allama Iqbal

Ae Himala! Ae faseel e kishwar e Hindustan
Choomta ha teri paishani ko jhuk ker aasman

O Himalaya! O rampart of the realm of Hindustan!
Bowing down, the sky kisses your forehead

Tujh mein kuch paida nahin derina rozee ke nishan
Tu jawan hai gardish e sham o saher ke darmiyan

Your condition does not show any signs of old age
You are young regardless of the alternation between night and day

Aik jalwa tha kaleem e toor e sina ke liye
Tu tajali hai sarapa chasm e beena ke liye

Moses witnessed a radiant splendour on Mount Sinai,
But you too are an embodiment of [glowing, radiant] brilliance for the discerning eye

Imtihan e didah zahir mein kohistan hai tu
Pasban apna hai tu, dewar e Hindustan hai tu

To the outward eye you are a mere mountain range
In reality you are our sentinel, you are the rampart of Hindustan

Matla e awwal falak jis ka ho vo diwan hai tu
Suay khilwat gah e dil daman kash e insan hai tu

You are the divan whose opening verse is the sky
You lead Man to the solitudes of his heart’s retreat

Barf ne bandhi hai dastar e fazilat tere sar
Khanda zan hai kalah e meher e aalam taab par

Snow has endowed you with the turban of honor
Which scoffs at the crown of the world‐illuminating sun

Teri umar e rafta ki ek aan hai ehad e kuhan
Wadiyon mein hain teri kali ghataen khema zan

Antiquity is but a moment of your bygone age
Dark clouds are encamped in your valleys

Chotiyan teri surayya se hain sargaram e sukhan
Tu zameen per aur pehna e falak tera watan

Your peaks match the Pleiades in elegance
Though you are standing on earth, your abode is the sky’s expanse

Chasma e daman tera aaeena siyyal hai
Daman e mouj e hawa jis ke liye rumal hai

The stream in your flank is a fast flowing mirror
For which the breeze is fluttering like a handkerchief

Abar ke hathon mein rahwar e hawa ke waste
Taziyana de diya barq e sar e kohsar ne

The mountain top’s lightning has given a whip
In the hands of cloud for the ambling horse

Ae Himala koi baazi gah hai tu bhi, jise
Dast e qudrat ne banaya hai aanasir ke liye

O Himalaya! Are you like a theatre stage
Which nature’s hand has made for its elements?

Junbish e mouj e naseem e subah gehwara bani
Jhoomti hai nasha e husti mein har gul ki kali

Gentle movement of the morning breeze is acting like a cradle
Every flowerbud is swinging with intoxication of existence

Aati hai nadi faraz e koh se gati huwi
Kausar o Tasneem ki moujon ko sharmati huwi

The stream is melodiously descending from the high land
Putting the waves of Kawthar and Tasnim to embarrassment

Chairti ja iss iraq e dil nasheen ke saaz ko
Ae musafir dil samjhta hai teri awaz ko

Play in passing this orchestra of beautiful music
O wayfarer, the heart comprehends your music

Laila e shab kholti hai aa ke jab zulf e rasa
Daman e dil khenchti hai aabsharon ke sada

When the night’s Layla unfurls her long hair
The sound of waterfalls captivates the heart

Ae Himala! Dastan uss waqt ki koi suna
Maskan e aabaay insan jab bana daman tera

O Himalaya! Do relate to us some stories of the time
When your valleys became abode of Man’s ancestors

Kuch bata uss seedhi sadi zindagi ka majra
Dagh jis par ghaza rang e takalluf ka na tha

Relate something of the life without sophistication
Which had not been stained by the rouge of sophistication

Haan dikha de ae tasawwar phir woh subah o sham tu
Dorh piche ki taraf ae ghardish e ayyam tu

Bring back that time [of human excellence], O Imagination!
Run towards the back, O changes of fortune!

[Translations from http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com]