In Your Honour: The Manimahesh Yatra
Vish Kumar was always destined to be a hiker. Born in Chandigarh at the foothills of the Indian Himalayas, his family are native Pahadi, or ‘people from the mountains,’ an ethnic group hailing from the Western Himalayan regions of India and Nepal.
As a child, Vish grew up watching his father and grandfather set off for expeditions in the neighbouring region of Himachal Pradesh, a state named for the snowcapped peaks that dominate India’s north. Vish revelled in the stories that his father and grandfather returned with as they conquered peaks that rose over 4,500 metres (15,000 feet). Their expeditions took them throughout the Indian Himalayas including the pilgrimage routes of Shri Amarnath, Kedarnath and Badrinath. Vish’s childhood imagination was stirred by images of temples perched on mountainsides and inside caves, of sleeping under skies littered with stars, and of lakes reflecting majestic mountain peaks. While Vish, the boy, was in awe of their feats, it took a move to the island state of Tasmania in southern Australia for Vish, the man, to hone his skills as a hiker.
Relocating to Australia in 2016 at the age of 20, Vish spent four years in Melbourne before moving to Tasmania. It was there on the Apple Ilse that Vish followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. His first hike in Tasmania was at Lilydale Falls and since then he has completed dozens more with his favourites being Mt Tyndall, Mt Geikie, and Clear Hill, with views of the famed Eastern Arthurs. Vish has also completed more than 60 of Tasmania’s 158 Abel’s, standalone peaks of at least 1,100 metres.
The Mt Anne Circuit in Tasmania’s Southwest National Park
In August this year Vish returned to his hometown of Chandigarh, to embark on the Manimahesh yatra. The pilgrimage is undertaken by thousands of Hindu devotees each year and is one of five Panch Kailash routes that visit the abodes of Lord Shiva. Four of the Upper Himalayan trails are in India, while the fifth and highest, at 6,638 metres (21,778 feet), is in Tibet. The Manimahesh yatra is typically completed over four days and with the ascent taking 12 – 14 hours. Along the route, tea houses offer shelter, bedding, and warm meals. The ideal time to hike the Manimahesh yatra is between the Janmashtami and Radha Ashtami festivals, typically in August and September. At most other times throughout the year the route is closed. This short climbing season results in the route being busy with hikers of all ages and abilities, and from all corners of the world. For Vish, hiking the Manimahesh yatra was not only a spiritual journey, but a dedication to his grandfather, Hamir Singh, who died on the trail 17 years earlier.
The journey to Manimahesh begins in the village of Bharmour. A mountain village in the Budhil Valley, Bharmour is home to just over 6,000 people and scattered with ancient Hindu temples and surrounded by snowcapped peaks. The nearby Ravi River is fed by the melting Himalayan snow, and it thunders through the plunging valleys, flowing all the way into neighbouring Pakistan. At Bharmour, pilgrims pay their respects at Chaurasi and Dharmaraj temples, with some even bathing in the Bharmani Mata temple pool on the outskirts of the village. From Bharmour, pilgrims make their way to the village of Hadsar and then commence the trek to Manimahesh lake, the end point of the pilgrimage.
Spectacular mountain views on the Manimahesh yatra
When Hamar Singh embarked on the Manimahesh yatra at age 62, he was accompanied by his wife and youngest son. They were among a group of 30 – 40 hikers, part of an expedition from Chandigarh. Their journey took them, as it did Vish, up rocky mountain paths and through green valleys, where cypress and birch trees grow tall and unencumbered. Alongside the paths, gushing rivers roar as they surge down the mountainside, luminous ice water flowing from the holy mountains. Views of surrounding mountain ranges stretch into the horizon, their peaks a blur of dusty snow and brooding clouds. As pilgrims amble along the undulating paths, they are often accompanied by Himalayan sheepdogs, who trot alongside them, providing silent companionship on often emotional journeys. Vish hears the familiar pitter patter of paws on the ground and turns to see an auburn sheepdog, its white tipped tail curled upwards as it trots behind him. As the path snakes ever higher, past 3,000 metres (10,000 feet), the pilgrims encounter a blanket of mist. The low hanging clouds brings a sudden drop in temperature and the sky darkens. It is at this height that Hamar Singh began to struggle. Hamar was a man with a strong spirit and a lifetime of hiking experience, though he was plagued by persistent heart troubles. He collapsed halfway to the peak and despite the best efforts of his wife, son, and his fellow pilgrims, he was unable to be saved. As Vish climbs higher than his grandfather, the memories of him sharpen, and his emotions sway from grief and sadness to an emboldened determination to make him proud, and to honour his memory. As he lays down to sleep after a long day of hiking, Vish reflects on passing the height at which is grandfather succumbed. It is an important milestone, though the summit still beckons.
On the second morning, the pilgrims awake in darkness and aim to reach the lakeshore by dawn. They march in silence and with reverence for the mountain and the journey. Their steps are slow and steady on the rocky path, with the gravel crunching underneath their feet. Most of them do not notice the auburn sheepdog that trots behind them. They have each walked a different path to reach this point, and everyone will feel their own sense of satisfaction and spiritual fulfilment. Each traveller brings their own hopes and dreams for the Manimahesh yatra, yet their shared wish is for a cloudless sky at the lakeshore. A clear backdrop, an azure sky, that will offer the best views of Manimahesh Kailash, the unclimbed home of Lord Shiva. Everyone hopes to see the mountain in all its glory, and to gaze at its reflection in the calm, glistening waters of the lake.
The reflection of the Manimahesh Kailash
For Vish and his fellow pilgrims, grey skies and brooding clouds greet them at the lakeshore. The peak of Manimahesh Kailash is shrouded behind a heavy cover of cloud, its holy summit cloaked under the heavens. The gloomy morning does nothing to dampen the spirit of these pilgrims though and reaching this point is an achievement in itself. At the sight of the towering and majestic Manimahesh Kailash, and its reflection in the still waters of the lake, Vish is overcome by emotion. He disperses with his hiking poles and backpack and slumps on a rock, shedding tears of joy and relief. His grandfather never made it here. Never laid his eyes on this immaculate vision. He would have loved it, Vish thinks. As he sits in quiet reflection, a gentle breeze blows past, sweeping down from the summit and bringing a chill as it skims off the surface of the lake. Vish shivers and looks over to his left. The auburn sheepdog with the white tipped tail looks at Vish before disappearing into the trees. Vish’s grandfather never made it this far, never gazed upon the Manimahesh Kailash, though in this moment it feels as if he is here with him.
Vish and his friends at the completion of the trek
