I embarked on what seemed like a thrilling trip to the Himalayas a few years back. It really did seem very thrilling, there was something very alluring about those peaks and scaling them had been a fantasy since the day I had read about Tenzing Norgay's exploits. Some people wanted to play music, some wanted to be rich. I just wanted to achieve something that very few people had achieved and have fun while doing so. Scaling the tallest mountain seemed perfect.
I went to the Himalayas with a yak and a friend, my best friend. We chose to use the same path that Tenzing had used on his trek, ie, the Southeast Ridge. We set up base on the Khumbu Glacier. The view from near our tent was just breathtaking. It exceeded my expectations and I have never seen something as beautiful in all my life. However, we did not stay there for too long as we both felt we had enough energy to keep moving.
We hiked until about five kilo meters from the death zone, where we ate some much needed food like starved pigs. We were far too hungry to notice how beautiful the setting was. I have to give myself a pat on the back for taking as many photographs of the mountains as possible. I knew that I would definitely enjoy them later.
The weather as harsh as it could've been. It was freezing cold and the brandy we carried definitely did us a world of good. We had some food and we tried to brave the slope into the death zone.
In about two hours, we were gasping for air. Oxygen seemed elusive. It was time to use the oxygen cylinders that were on the yak. We turned around looking for the yak, but we couldn't find it. We envisaged that it had collapsed into the snow. No words could describe the horror on my friend's face as we realized how blatant a mistake it was to not keep track of our fancy mule. We started looking around for the yak in the heavy snowfall. We feared the worst as we dug the bone chilling snow to look for the yak. It looked ominous.
Somehow, I noticed an abrupt shape amidst the snow. We rushed to it and immediately put on our oxygen cylinders. Fuck the food and the brandy, I just want some air, I thought. I took a few breaths and a calm came over me. I grabbed the brandy and gave my friend some of the food and off we were. The summit looked near. I kept thinking every hour that it was half an hour away. My friend was panting heavily as he somehow managed to put one foot ahead of the other. After what seemed like an eternity, we had made it! We had been where only a few people had ever been. We were literally on top of the world. It felt like all the heaviness of my life disappeared in that moment because I had achieved what I was born to do. I took out the flag I had made and planted it on the peak of the Himalayas. The people who had hoisted the flag in Iwo Jima couldn't have been as happy as I was. Hell, Yogi Bear smoking weed on a picnic couldn't be as happy as I was. My friend however seemed spent. He couldn't bask in the glory of our achievement. It was a shame. I managed to take as many pictures as I could as the gust took over. Now for the descent.
In about two hours, we were almost out of the death zone, but my friend was exhausted and inebriated. He was incoherently mumbling things like this to me:
"You know, I am not going to make it"
"I can see my mother welcoming me to heaven"
And then he stopped me from hiking and said with all seriousness,
"You know, I will be dead in a while, and you will be starving. You have been the best friend I've ever had. You can eat me, save the eyes. I promised to donate them. Promise me you will give them to a person who needs them".
I nodded as he coughed blood. I gently set him down and gave him the last drops of brandy that were left as he faded away with a grin, saying "I'm going drunk to heaven, I fucking hope they don't take breath tests".
I'd be lying if I said I thought nobody would die on this adventure, but this was not a good way to go. Offering oneself as food? Wasn't that a bit of a taboo? Either way, he was gone now. I had lost a yak, my best friend and all the brandy. I did what I was told to do. I cut his eyes out and stored them in the empty bottle of brandy. I breathed a sigh as I let his body go. I thought that I would at least take him to the foothills where he can be buried honourably. In about half an hour, I was spent. I simply could not carry my friend along. I decided to set up camp and retire for the night. I started a bonfire and had the last pieces of meat from the food bag. I stared into the flame, vicious yet filled with hope. I looked at my friend and noticed that he had no eyes. It took me a while to remember that I had his eyes tucked away. Then it happened. I heard a shriek somewhere up in the mountains and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of an avalanche. I held on to my friend's hand as hard as I could. I fathomed that I'd be a dead man soon. I looked around and saw that I was a foot away from a dangerously placed rock. I felt my back slam against the rock and passed out.
As fate would have it, I was still alive the next morning. I awoke as the sun rays hit my eyes. Somehow, I had still held on to my friend's hand and his eyes were still tied to my belt. I tried and failed many times to pick myself up from the sickening cold. I thought this was it for me and just as I was about to fade away, I gave it one last shot. I gave it everything. Somehow, I was able to get on my knees. I gasped for air and confirmed that I still had my friend's eyes. My friend's body was loosely covered in snow. I managed to thaw him out with my knife as we continued our descent. At twilight, I sat on the snow and stared blankly at the sky. The stars were bright that night.
I gathered some wood from a tree that had fallen nearby and desperately hoped that I could start a fire. I sparked the lighter on the wood, and somehow it caught fire. It must've fallen recently, I thought. There I sat, alone with my thoughts, never ending. A lot had happened that day. I had lost my best friend and I had achieved my destiny, but all I could think of was how delicious my friend's arms looked. As sick and disgusting as it may sound, I thought it would be okay to eat him. I took out my knife and froze as I was about to cut him. All the good times we had shared passed by my eyes in a flash, but I was so fucking hungry. I looked at his face, and somehow, his grin was still intact. I smiled to myself and cut his forearm and cooked it on the fire. This was the best meal I had ever had in my life. I savoured every last sinew.
I had my fix. I couldn't sleep. I must've been a few miles from the base camp. I got up and held my friend by the hand and dragged him. I kept moving. About an eternity later, I could see the camp below a ridge just as the sun was rising. I ran till my muscles were on fire and my heart pumped battery acid. I took the water that we had stacked there on arrival and shoved all of it down my throat. I saw a gerbil and I killed it with my bare hands and ate it. I then realized that my friend was still up on the ridge. I managed to climb up and get him down.
I dug the earth to bury my friend as a man walked up to me. He was probably on his way up the mountain too. I glanced a look at him and returned to the digging. He came to me and said, "Need some help?". I foolishly nodded. After we finished digging, I motioned with my hands to help me pick my friend up. The missing hand was the first thing he saw. He stared in dismay. It was pretty obvious that someone had cut his hand. It was also stale news by now that there was an avalanche. He looked at me in horror as he had realized what had happened. "Did you eat him?!", he asked. His was still staring at me in dismay. I had no patience to lie. I was simply too exhausted, too spent to think, so I nodded as a tear rolled down my cheek.
He ran away from me as I sat in the camp. I noticed the cigars that we had kept in the camp which we had got with us. It was my friend's idea to have a celebratory smoke after our descent. I wiped a tear away as I gripped a cigar and lit it. I came outside and sat by my friend's body as I smoked the cigar. I was unable to hold back the tears, but I wanted to celebrate our achievement in the same manner that my friend would have. I smoked as I took out the bottle of brandy that consumed my eyes. I stared into them and I put the bottle down. I puffed on the cigar as I stared at the sky. I puffed the cigar as I heard the sirens wail in the distance. I finished it and stood up with my hands pointed upwards as I saw the police Jeep zooming towards me.
I went to the Himalayas with a yak and a friend, my best friend. We chose to use the same path that Tenzing had used on his trek, ie, the Southeast Ridge. We set up base on the Khumbu Glacier. The view from near our tent was just breathtaking. It exceeded my expectations and I have never seen something as beautiful in all my life. However, we did not stay there for too long as we both felt we had enough energy to keep moving.
We hiked until about five kilo meters from the death zone, where we ate some much needed food like starved pigs. We were far too hungry to notice how beautiful the setting was. I have to give myself a pat on the back for taking as many photographs of the mountains as possible. I knew that I would definitely enjoy them later.
The weather as harsh as it could've been. It was freezing cold and the brandy we carried definitely did us a world of good. We had some food and we tried to brave the slope into the death zone.
In about two hours, we were gasping for air. Oxygen seemed elusive. It was time to use the oxygen cylinders that were on the yak. We turned around looking for the yak, but we couldn't find it. We envisaged that it had collapsed into the snow. No words could describe the horror on my friend's face as we realized how blatant a mistake it was to not keep track of our fancy mule. We started looking around for the yak in the heavy snowfall. We feared the worst as we dug the bone chilling snow to look for the yak. It looked ominous.
Somehow, I noticed an abrupt shape amidst the snow. We rushed to it and immediately put on our oxygen cylinders. Fuck the food and the brandy, I just want some air, I thought. I took a few breaths and a calm came over me. I grabbed the brandy and gave my friend some of the food and off we were. The summit looked near. I kept thinking every hour that it was half an hour away. My friend was panting heavily as he somehow managed to put one foot ahead of the other. After what seemed like an eternity, we had made it! We had been where only a few people had ever been. We were literally on top of the world. It felt like all the heaviness of my life disappeared in that moment because I had achieved what I was born to do. I took out the flag I had made and planted it on the peak of the Himalayas. The people who had hoisted the flag in Iwo Jima couldn't have been as happy as I was. Hell, Yogi Bear smoking weed on a picnic couldn't be as happy as I was. My friend however seemed spent. He couldn't bask in the glory of our achievement. It was a shame. I managed to take as many pictures as I could as the gust took over. Now for the descent.
In about two hours, we were almost out of the death zone, but my friend was exhausted and inebriated. He was incoherently mumbling things like this to me:
"You know, I am not going to make it"
"I can see my mother welcoming me to heaven"
And then he stopped me from hiking and said with all seriousness,
"You know, I will be dead in a while, and you will be starving. You have been the best friend I've ever had. You can eat me, save the eyes. I promised to donate them. Promise me you will give them to a person who needs them".
I nodded as he coughed blood. I gently set him down and gave him the last drops of brandy that were left as he faded away with a grin, saying "I'm going drunk to heaven, I fucking hope they don't take breath tests".
I'd be lying if I said I thought nobody would die on this adventure, but this was not a good way to go. Offering oneself as food? Wasn't that a bit of a taboo? Either way, he was gone now. I had lost a yak, my best friend and all the brandy. I did what I was told to do. I cut his eyes out and stored them in the empty bottle of brandy. I breathed a sigh as I let his body go. I thought that I would at least take him to the foothills where he can be buried honourably. In about half an hour, I was spent. I simply could not carry my friend along. I decided to set up camp and retire for the night. I started a bonfire and had the last pieces of meat from the food bag. I stared into the flame, vicious yet filled with hope. I looked at my friend and noticed that he had no eyes. It took me a while to remember that I had his eyes tucked away. Then it happened. I heard a shriek somewhere up in the mountains and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of an avalanche. I held on to my friend's hand as hard as I could. I fathomed that I'd be a dead man soon. I looked around and saw that I was a foot away from a dangerously placed rock. I felt my back slam against the rock and passed out.
As fate would have it, I was still alive the next morning. I awoke as the sun rays hit my eyes. Somehow, I had still held on to my friend's hand and his eyes were still tied to my belt. I tried and failed many times to pick myself up from the sickening cold. I thought this was it for me and just as I was about to fade away, I gave it one last shot. I gave it everything. Somehow, I was able to get on my knees. I gasped for air and confirmed that I still had my friend's eyes. My friend's body was loosely covered in snow. I managed to thaw him out with my knife as we continued our descent. At twilight, I sat on the snow and stared blankly at the sky. The stars were bright that night.
I gathered some wood from a tree that had fallen nearby and desperately hoped that I could start a fire. I sparked the lighter on the wood, and somehow it caught fire. It must've fallen recently, I thought. There I sat, alone with my thoughts, never ending. A lot had happened that day. I had lost my best friend and I had achieved my destiny, but all I could think of was how delicious my friend's arms looked. As sick and disgusting as it may sound, I thought it would be okay to eat him. I took out my knife and froze as I was about to cut him. All the good times we had shared passed by my eyes in a flash, but I was so fucking hungry. I looked at his face, and somehow, his grin was still intact. I smiled to myself and cut his forearm and cooked it on the fire. This was the best meal I had ever had in my life. I savoured every last sinew.
I had my fix. I couldn't sleep. I must've been a few miles from the base camp. I got up and held my friend by the hand and dragged him. I kept moving. About an eternity later, I could see the camp below a ridge just as the sun was rising. I ran till my muscles were on fire and my heart pumped battery acid. I took the water that we had stacked there on arrival and shoved all of it down my throat. I saw a gerbil and I killed it with my bare hands and ate it. I then realized that my friend was still up on the ridge. I managed to climb up and get him down.
I dug the earth to bury my friend as a man walked up to me. He was probably on his way up the mountain too. I glanced a look at him and returned to the digging. He came to me and said, "Need some help?". I foolishly nodded. After we finished digging, I motioned with my hands to help me pick my friend up. The missing hand was the first thing he saw. He stared in dismay. It was pretty obvious that someone had cut his hand. It was also stale news by now that there was an avalanche. He looked at me in horror as he had realized what had happened. "Did you eat him?!", he asked. His was still staring at me in dismay. I had no patience to lie. I was simply too exhausted, too spent to think, so I nodded as a tear rolled down my cheek.
He ran away from me as I sat in the camp. I noticed the cigars that we had kept in the camp which we had got with us. It was my friend's idea to have a celebratory smoke after our descent. I wiped a tear away as I gripped a cigar and lit it. I came outside and sat by my friend's body as I smoked the cigar. I was unable to hold back the tears, but I wanted to celebrate our achievement in the same manner that my friend would have. I smoked as I took out the bottle of brandy that consumed my eyes. I stared into them and I put the bottle down. I puffed on the cigar as I stared at the sky. I puffed the cigar as I heard the sirens wail in the distance. I finished it and stood up with my hands pointed upwards as I saw the police Jeep zooming towards me.
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