Nanga Parbat, also called the King of the Mountains, has the highest rock and ice wall in the world. This Killer Mountain, with its three vast faces and a height of 8126 meters, has been the centre of attention of many climbers for over a hundred years.

A few years ago, I was also one of the many young and ambitious climbers who dreamt of conquering this mighty mountain king. At the age pf twenty, after many fights and much arguing, my family members finally gave into my request to fulfil my dream. However, luck was not on my side for when I reached Base Camp, I was met with relentless weather conditions which were not aat all ideal for climbing a mountain that had claimed so many as its own.

I waited at Base Camp or over two weeks, but the weather just did not seem to lift. My ambition and determination eventually got the better of me and I set out to conquer the Killer Mountain. All went well for a couple of days and my excellent climbing skills helped me ascend up to a height of 6000 meters.

However, that was when the King decided to unleash its wrath. My progress was stopped by fog, drenching snowmelt and avalanches. Seeing that there was no possibility of neither an ascend nor a descend, I dug myself into snow hole with the hope that the weather would soon calm down.

Unfortunately, fate was not on my side and after a few days, I radioed Base Camp and asked Nazir Sabir, President of the Alpine Club of Pakistan, for a rescue helicopter.

While I waited in my snow hole for help to arrive, there was only one thought going through my head, “A lot of ambition is never a pleasant thing”. As I remained trapped for the fifth day, my rations were running dangerously low and I felt as though death was just around the corner. The sound of helicopters disappearing, driven away by the ferocious winds, further dampened my spirits and I felt the need to be back at home, curled up in my mother’s arms, with not a care in the world.

However, on my sixth day of imprisonment, a helicopter with two courageous pilots finally managed to come near my hell hole. Three ropes weighted with rocks dangled from the chopper skids and after much struggle due to the deathly avalanches crashing past us, I finally managed to hook one of the ropes with my axe and attach it to myself.

After a near-death experience, I finally reached safety and was greeted by a few angry and other happy people.