On November 21st of last year, a few colleagues of mine and I decided to climb the Nanga Parbat. Taking risks was one of our favorites because seriously, what is life without a little bit of adventure and risks?
I had gathered some information on Nanga Parbat and I got to find out that it was also known as “the King of the Mountains” due to its vast area; it was at a height of 8126 meter. We, soon, hired a guide to lead us up otherwise we would have been clueless pandas seeking shelter.
The day had come. We were all ready to climb the mountain in the glacial weather; snowflakes clinging to the parched crust of our faces with breezy winds blowing that caused our hair to stand up. My heart beat faster as the moments passed by. We were all packed up in our warmers and gear that was provided, rations full.
The first day had been really tiring. In the distance you could see the clouds covering the horizon. The next couple of days went about as planned: climbing, resting, eating and repeat.
However, one day as we were climbing the humungous white giant, we noticed that flag was drifting towards but as I squinted my eyes to focus, I watched as the pile of snow followed.
Our guide shouted telling us to run but everybody knew there was no escaping this. Soon, the avalanche captured us in its trap, my body going numb in seconds.
I lost contact of my guide and the others so I reached out for the device and tried radioing the Base Camp. I mouthed the words “help” but no sound came out. I tried harder the next time and let out an almost inaudible “help”. I could hear the chaos building on the other end and a few hours later, I suppose, the helicopter could be heard. As they found no sign of our existence due to a thick layer of white sheet plastering us, they left.
There was no hope left in me. I blacked out and when I woke, provisions running low, I tried pulling away at the snow surrounding me. It was petrifying, salty tears running down my frostbitten cheek. But, at the very next moment, the sound of another helicopter filled my ears like music and I radioed them, saying, “I hear you!”
It took a while but they dug me out, rope around my waist and the next thing I knew, I was being pulled up. Heaps of blankets soon covered me. All my other acquaintances made it through the avalanche, luckily. Before long, the pilot flew away from the aftermath of the flurry. A deep sigh of relief escaped my lips as I shivered against the cool atmosphere.