Prayer flags at Kunzum Pass. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Welcome to part 3 of my photo diary trilogy on Kinnaur, Spiti, and Lahaul, high up in the Himalayas in India’s Himachal Pradesh.

If Kinnaur is all about the lush flourishing side of living, and Spiti the very opposite—about its barrenness, then Lahaul is the natural outcome of going through both sides of life. It is of tuning in with one’s inner self. I guess you could simply also describe it as meeting one’s Maker.

Here in Lahaul, Buddhist chants echo from monasteries perched atop peaks. Lakes contain deities and so do mountain passes. There is the sacred everywhere, and it is celebrated with much joy.

I would like to share my journey through Lahaul valley with you here. Maybe its magic captures your heart and soul too. 🙂

Kunzum Pass [Kunzum La in Tibetan] is a high-altitude motorable mountain pass at 4,551 metres swathed in multi-coloured Buddhist prayer flags fluttering in the wind and absolute silence. It connects Spiti with Lahaul.

I started off doing the parikrama [a circumambulation of the site], and then just decided to get lost in the riot of colour. The pass, surrounded by the soaring Chandra Bhaga mountains, is only open for four months in a year—from late-May to mid-October. For the rest of the year, it is buried under ice and is inaccessible.

Twenty kilometres later, I was at Chandra Taal [Lake of the Moon]. I was not sure what to exactly expect as I trudged along the 1-kilometre-long trail from the car park to its shores, across rolling rock-spattered meadows.

Was I pleased with what I saw when I reached it? That would be an understatement. I will let my photos do the talking and continue with my narration a few scrolls further down this post.

Chandra Taal is a crescent-shaped freshwater lake at a height of 4,250 metres. Chandra means ‘moon’ and taal means ‘lake.’

Legends abound here. From the two lovers, Chandra [daughter of the moon] and Bhaga [son of the sun-god] who were doomed to stay apart, to the married shepherd who fell in love with a lake fairy. In the second story, the fairy rejected the shepherd when she found out he was married. His soul still haunts the lake’s shores as he weeps for her every night.

There is also the mythological angle. Chandra Taal is where the god Indra in the Hindu epic Mahabharata picked up Yudhishthira, the eldest of the five Pandavas, to take him to the heavens.

Immaterial of your leaning—folklore or mythology—the 42.54-metre-deep lake holds immense sanctity for locals. Its shores are lined with stacks of stones placed by pilgrims. They represent prayers and wishes. Both swimming or bathing in the waters is strictly prohibited.

It is a 5-kilometre gentle hike around the lake’s circumference. Most tourists are happy to simply gather at the entrance to the lake. Still, do make the extra effort. The walk along the undulating path, with only stillness and reflections for company, is a meditation in itself.

No sooner had I sat in my SUV to leave for Gramphu on a non-existent track over rivers and rocks, that dark ominous clouds started to gather at Chandra Taal and the winds became chilly.

Chandra Taal was closed for visitors the very next day after I left, right up to May the following year. [I was there in early-October.] It was as if the skies had stayed clear just for me.

My next stop was Keylong, capital of the Lahaul and Spiti district, in a guesthouse nestled amidst apple orchards. But it was not for the apples that one comes to Keylong.

Commonly known as the ‘Land of the Monasteries,’ Keylong lies on the banks of the river Bhaga. Yes, the same beloved Bhaga of Chandra, of Chandra Taal fame.

High up on one of the surrounding summits was my first destination, the 17th Century Shashur Monastery, to gaze at centuries-old thangkas and witness even older rituals.

Shashur, meaning ‘In the Blue Pines,’ belongs to the Tibetan Drukpa [red hat] sect and was founded by a missionary from the Kingdom of Bhutan. It is said the missionary’s heart did not burn when he was cremated and is embedded in his statue at the altar.

And then on to the 12th Century Kardang Monastery, also belonging to the Drukpa sect, with exquisite Buddhist wall paintings. It was renovated in 1912 and houses the largest number of Buddhist nuns in the district.

A friendly nun at the Kardang Monastery invited me to join the group chanting. I happily did. Once the rhythmic chants and drums ended in hushed silence, I was asked to stay for tea. I wished I could. However, I had to decline. It was time for me to hit the road again.

Goodbye Lahaul. Goodbye Spiti, and standing behind you, good bye dear Kinnaur as well. You three turned me into a mountain soul, and I will never be the same again. 🙂

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I hope you enjoyed reading this trilogy as much as I enjoyed writing it! Wishing you happy travels. Always.

[Note: This blog post is part of a series from my 15-day solo road trip to Kinnaur, Spiti, and Lahaul in Himachal Pradesh. To read more posts on my Himachal Pradesh travels, click here.]