12 days of Ladakh

I've known you even before I was formed
I've walked your paths before time
Barefooted, I've trudged through the veins
that course through your heart
And I've felt
the rough of your earth, the touch of your weathered skin.

I remember how you called me out in dreams
Slicing through the clouds and piercing my soul
You whispered through the silence and took me into your womb

And I came.

I now stand, maroon-robed and shorn head
Gazing into your vast emptiness, listening to your wordlessness
Trying in vain to gather into me every bit of you
And wondering if i'll meet God, hidden in the folds of your breast.

Clouds so low they pull a hood of shadows over the mountains

Fluttering prayer flags

Surreal contrasts

The beautiful people and the children, happy and ever-content despite the harsh life

Clear spaces and blue, blue skies. The intermingling colours of Pangong Tso, pristine, pure.

Ancient religions and traditions nestled between the mountains of the gods