JULY 29, 2018 • THE WEEK 77Th e polo competitions of summer morph
into ice hockey in winter, in the various frozen
ponds around the town. Th ere are also nu-
merous festivals throughout the year that lend
colour to the place, and no trip is complete
without witnessing a tantric cham dance, a
vibrant masked dance of Buddhists in Ladakh.
Th e dance marks the victory of good over evil.
Th e volunteers at the festival explained to me
that it charts the journey of the soul after death;
and the wrathful fi gures try to stop the soul’s
fear.
Another adventure was hitchhiking in a truck
along the Manali-Leh road to Changthang, a
high-altitude region of Ladakh that stretches
to western Tibet. At an altitude of 4,700 metres,
the wild, riotous beauty of the Changthang pla-
teau, the land of the Changpa nomads who rear
the famous pashmina goats, was breathtaking.
Th e wind blows unabated here and night time
temperatures can easily fall below zero even in
summer. When I fell victim to altitude moun-
tain sickness (AMS), it was a Changpa family
that nursed me back to health. I had gone walk-
ing around the stream, trying to photograph the
pashmina goats, and had a sudden headache.
Nearby, there was a Changpa family in a tent. I
waved to them and they beckoned me, gave me
butter tea with local herbs that soon worked its
magic.
A fi ve-hour drive from Leh is the Pangong Tso,
a Himalayan lake located at a height of 4,350 me-
tres. It is 134 kilometres long and more than half
of it is in China. When I walked over the frozen
lake, it made a creaking sound, and my heart
missed a beat. Don’t stay in one spot, warned
our driver Norbu. It was hard not to, when the
monochrome beauty of the landscape left you
awestruck. On some sides, the lake wasn’t fully
frozen yet, and it was a memorable experience
seeing the pristine surroundings refl ected on the
water. A thick slab of ice fringed the Pangong Tso.
Th e howling wind swept across the lake, and it
was so cold that it felt like my fi ngers would fall
off any minute.
Storm clouds started gathering when I reached
the village of Diskit on my way back to Leh. As
soon as we started the ascent to Khardung La,
it started snowing. Th e angry wind turned the
snow to powder and, before we knew it, we were
stuck on the highest road in the world. As they
say, I lived to tell the tale. Barely.FREEZING POINT
Mansingka on the
frozen Pangong Tso lake