From last 5 years or so, every March marks a significant transition in my life. Either I’m moving cities, or shifting apartments, or doing some self reflective travel or taking a new job and this time too, I’ve landed myself into taking a life altering decision. I’m curious if March really sets a new tone, a new chapter in most of our lives to align with the spring? Is it a universal phenomenon? Because Mary Oliver seems to agree too.
In March the earth remembers its own name.
Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking.
The rivers begin to sing. In the sky
the winter stars are sliding away; new stars
appear as, later, small blades of grain
will shine in the dark fields.
And the name of every place is joyful.
Every place, known or unknown feels joyful today. It’s been more than 2 weeks of me responding with a “couldn’t be better” to every “how are you?”. (Keeping all the bruises, blood clots, ankle twists, etc. aside.) A friend said the stink of this contentment mixed with happiness is flowing through the phone. I gushed at this statement. After a long long time, I’m not second guessing my feelings. I’m truly exhilarated. Although it’s important to take a pause and address the universe and tell her / him / them that hey, we’re good… these little challenges you’re throwing at me, I've learnt to deal with them. Not asking for more than this. Just wanted to be clear. Kay?
I’ve always claimed to be an indecisive person, I probably still am. But there’s something so pure about certainty which sprouts from within & can’t be shaken. Just like the decision of enrolling for a skiing course in Manali. What started as a tiny spark of excitement to enroll myself for a basic skiing course, I didn’t quite imagine of it becoming a reality. To get a seat at one such course, one needs to plan months ahead and register as soon as the slot opens, which is usually towards the end of October or early November. While I was going through a personal crisis during those months, I somehow managed to register myself for this course. The cost wasn’t much but the number of documents, medical examinations, attestations and other things that were needed was crazy. It was an achievement itself to be able to do it all by myself. Sounds simple but wasn’t the case. My doubts were real, life had broken my confidence down, all I mustered was the will to plant a seed which might or might not bring me some shade in the future.
(Just a disclaimer - it’s a long story even though I’ve tried giving it big discounts here and there.)
Come December, the impossibility of me making it to the course dawned upon me. Both my mental and physical health were crushed. And here I was, putting myself in my very first zone of discomfort, by choice. I decided to train my mind and body for this course with my brother’s help. It was hard enough to wake up at 7 in the morning during the peak cold of December, let alone do the mighty task of actually doing a movement & working out. I started going to the gym daily, oiled my mind to find that strength from within and spread it to the darkest corners of my body. Everyday I wanted to give up. Everyday I considered cancelling the course registration. Everyday I questioned myself as to who am I kidding by setting such an ambitious, almost impossible goal for myself. For two months, I kept showing up despite the internal monologue of self trash talk. Two months are hardly any good for someone with abysmal health conditions as mine to come to shape. The medication I’ve collected from last year bears testimony to that. Yet I booked my Volvo, boarded it from Chandigarh and as much to my disbelief - actually reached Manali without chickening out.
My anxious heart raced on learning that we’ve reached at a time when it was pitch dark, sub zero temperature & raining heavily. To my relief, there was a taxi driver with an umbrella standing right outside the gate of the bus. I boarded that taxi, reached the campus within 10 minutes and spent the next hour in the basement of the institute's auditorium because who stays up to welcome a new batch at 6 in the morning. I was the first one to reach so I strolled around tracing the movement of light on snow clad trees and mountains as the sun came up. We got our dorm room assigned, which was to be shared with 5 girls within the age group of 10-13 and 3 grown women - all of whom were here to learn to ski. These kids who initially, very briefly brought some joy.. within moments turned into creepy little monsters I wanted to get rid of. Within 24 hours I had a spat with these monstrous kids which led to the 1st breakdown of the trip. *takes a bow* Of all the things I feared about this trip, I didn’t think I'd be bullied by a bunch of kids on day 1 of the course! I took off from the campus to cool down and prepare for the real deal. By the time I returned it was time to get our ski-clothing issued. A teal coloured windproof jacket and pants along with a green colored disgusting looking monkey cap. Not complaining, simply stating facts. :D
To add some respite to the exhausting interactions going so far with different age groups and varying energies of people present there, I met a group from the intermediate skiing batch. They were easy to hang around with. We went for a quick tea and maggi right at a roadside shop outside the campus. And little did I know, I’d be having all my meals and tea for the rest of the 14 days with the same bunch. :)
Soon after we were to leave for the main skiing campus in Solang valley. It snowed mildly which added on to the traffic and our traveller couldn't go further after a certain point. That’s when I started to witness the very 1st demo of what was to come. We had to walk for 7 kms towards our main stop. In snow! No matter how slippery this hike was, the landscapes I witnessed were simply out of the world. Apple orchards covered in snow, a huge bridge merrily bookended by beautiful views of the Beas river, mountains, snow and deodar trees. The roads were glistening, the mountain houses looked sharp and proud. It was all too beautiful to grasp. Whilst taking it all in, I made a friend with an enchanting laugh. We talked about our travel stories, career and life, motivations behind what’s to come, and sat down at a makeshift tapri surrounded by snow while enjoying some maggi and fanta.
We reached the campus at just about tea time although I was glad to know that lunch was getting served too. Checked into our dorm wherein 9 of us had to scoot in a 120 sqft room. Before thinking much about how in hell I’ll deal with this, we were called to get our equipment issued i.e. a pair of ski boots, a pair of ski poles, and our skis. The excitement of touching, testing and wearing all of this took a backfoot as we all wondered the complexity of carrying it all back to the dorm. They hung the bulky pair of ski shoes (weighing almost 5 kgs) on one shoulder, placed the skis (again, weighing almost 5 kgs) on the other shoulder, and handed us the poles like there was more space for grip left. It was funny and infuriating both considering the fact we barely were able to walk in the snow handsfree, and now we had to take back this issued equipment back to our rooms.
Next day was our first day of being on the slope. We had our morning tea at 6:30 am. PT started at 7 am sharp. In the basic course, we were 40 people in total with the majority being the kids from Himachal. PT included a couple of running rounds in the snow playground. Followed by lots of stretching exercises. For these exercises, we were made to stand in a big circle with two instructors standing in the center guiding the group. Same drill was followed daily for an hour. Immediately after, we had our breakfast and embarked on our first ski training session. But what happened before is important to note. The skis, boots, and poles which were issued the day before were to be put to action today. We weren’t trained on how to wear the shoes yet (which I later realized was never a part of the training). We were supposed to clarify all this when the equipment was issued, which we didn’t. Ultimately, intermediate batch students came to our rescue. The first walk with the ski boots on was painfully funny. To climb down the stairs sideways with one foot at a time, to step on the snow knowing we’d fall, the fear of breaking our ankles. There was one thing that we were alerted to time and again, which was to take good care of the equipment and try not to lose it because the remuneration was fat and unaffordable. Guess what though? My skis got lost. Before I could even reach the slope. Long story short, I practiced with a larger sized ski borrowing it from one of the MOI instructors. It was obviously not happening. I was too scared of falling and breaking my bones. This struggle of understanding the equipment, familiarizing with it, balancing on it, went on for a couple of more days. Until one day when the rest of the batch was moved to a higher gradient slope and I along with other slow learners stayed back. I kept at it on my own listening to specific instructions given to each of us individually now. This helped in saving myself from watching others doing well & getting demotivated. Helped me listen to my mind as well. Helped me take a baby step at the bunny slope. After the end of the practice I still felt the same. Maximum fear, zero confidence and no improvement. I closed the day with the thought of not having it in me to do it by myself. Unaware of what was to follow the next day.
Day 4 is when we all were shifted to the higher gradient slope. Us slow learners included. I started with immense fear vibrating inside my body. Towards the end of this new slope there was a steeper patch of slope - let’s call it “bendy”, my heart almost came out of my mouth when I skid (& not skied) through bendy in what felt like a microsecond and had my first terrible fall. I was prepared to start again thinking I’ll get used to falling on this slope too. I started again. Same fear but with a notion in mind that now that I’ve fallen once I’ll be able to fall better. By the time I reached bendy, I felt the same rush and topped my last terrible fall. I was assured by the instructors, repeatedly, that nothing can go wrong. At max, I’ll barge into the fenced net on the boundary. And with that in mind, as I lost my control I headed straight thinking I'll barge into the net. But right in front of the net stood the same set of kids who caught my nerve the first day. And I barged into them instead. In hindsight, served them right only. As soon as I fell, one of the kids from the group started shouting at me to pick my leg up. Continuously. While I was still processing my fall, that asshole of a kid was ringing these words in my ear. Obviously, I lost my shit and the worst episode of this trip played out. I was fuming and the fumes turned into tears. I then sat at the edge of the landing and cried. Changed my spot to go sit beside the wooden logs and cried some more. Re-changed my spot by heading to the dorm, lowered my wet pants (couldn’t risk wetting my bed), sat on my bed and howled my ass off. After 15 minutes, I was back at the slope again. This never give up energy was simply flowing in the air, there’s no other way I can explain inflicting this repeated humiliation on me.
A lot of falling, getting up, carrying the skis back to the top of the slope, hesitating in going next at the fall line and falling yet again later - awaited something magical to happen. A kind stranger helped me by becoming my shadow as I appeared for my umpteenth slide. He instructed in a way that didn’t let me shift my focus to my fear. I followed his voice. A voice that gave me a clear sense of direction, made me believe, and granted me bounty of assurance. In those moments, at that one slide, and within seconds we were at the landing area - without crashing or falling. It was a highly emotional moment for me. I fist bumped him but in all reality I wanted to hug him tight. The story doesn’t end here. We climbed up the slope again and I expected him to repeat this cycle with me. This is when he declared, “you know what to do and you should be able to manage on your own”. I was next in line, I had no other option but to ski away. In my mind, I replayed the recording of his voice which converted into a musical rhythm that my bones were naturally dancing to by now. I felt magic in my bones. Cliché as it sounds, I felt unstoppable. That monstrous fear was nowhere to be found. I felt that the sky is mine, the world is mine, I can do it all. I know it’s probably cringe to read this but I truly, for the first time in my life, felt free. Or whatever you call it. I felt like the world’s a stage and I’m a star. *looks at the horizon with a twinkle in her eye* I skied to the landing point without a tumble and whispered to myself, “I can finally trust myself again”.
Fourteen days of this time in Solang valley was scary, fun and challenging. I came back as a different person. From feeling totally dejected and overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity and complexity of this place, to getting to know each other slowly with slight apprehension and finally embracing each other as we are, it was a beautiful journey. It’s a bond I’ll be keeping close to my heart, nurture and respect it, always. An important lesson I’d like to share is - the way to live your life is to do what you want to do with focus and intention and no matter what happens after that, you’ll be happy you did it.
to being completely and totally reckless in feeding our minds and souls
love
riti :)
P.S. I turned 32 last month and it was one of the best birthdays yet. In Captain Fantastic’s words, I was bold, I was adventurous and I savored every bit of it. :))