Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Sometime, only sometime,they stopped to gaze at the skyline, turquoise blue illuminated against the lofty Karakorams. Whisps of white, carelessely scattered across the sky projected unfamiliar patterns on the barren plains, however, no one really cared as it never rained in Ali.

Ali was a bustling town- merchants, spies, shepards and lamas dodged through the narrow streets, unaware that a glacier was inching forward, the yaks were returning from the grazing ground and winter was preparing to shield them from the rest of the world for a few months, yet again.

Pasang, washed the blood stains and fat off the stone. There was no meat left today, Magha was going to be recieved joyously again. The suspicious smiles and strange faces appearing and dissapearing had not dampened the spirit of Ali.

Pasang wanted to walk faster, it was not everyday that a white man came to Ali. He wanted to see his robes which hid his pale skin. He knew the days were changing, people were changing and something will happen to him soon. He had hoped for something to happen since he ran away from Dira-puk monastery. His father had wanted the youngest son to become a devout lama and serve the supreme lama but instead he had to suffer the shame of his act. Ali was the nearest town he could disappear into, but a disgraced lama was fated to join the lowest of the low. Salim- the old butcher needed the young healthy boy and Pasang liked eating yak meat.