Ladakh in April - Day 4 - Snowfall in Leh

When I drew the curtains off our ground-floor room’s windows I saw a sea of white. My first reaction was that I had been struck by the opposite of blindness; though once I put on my glasses it became evident that I was merely looking at what was left from last night’s heavy snowfall. We swaddled ourselves in whatever clothes lay at hand, grabbed our cameras and scrambled out of our room. Having never been exposed to such vast quantities of snow, we were worried that it would all vanish before we had had our fun.

Something plodded through the snowSomething plodded through the snow

Our guesthouse's kitchen garden after snowfallOur guesthouse's kitchen garden after snowfall

Snow-covered mountainous landscapes evoke images of regal, grand beasts such as snow foxes, polar bears and snow leopards in one’s mind. A confused cow is all we had to be content with.

A regal cowA regal cow

Everyone at our guest house was busy scraping and shoveling the snow away. In fact, practically every household in Leh had someone on their house’s roof clearing the snow away. It was almost like Sakranti in Gujarat or Independece Day in Delhi minus the kites.

Clearing the snow from the roofClearing the snow from the roof

The snowfall had caused the weather to clear up. The harsh Leh sun felt very welcome. Stray dogs had by now overcome their surprise at the sudden change in their landscape and had found themselves warm, dry, sunny patches of road to sleep on.

A dry, warm patch of road just for meA dry, warm patch of road just for me

We had our brunch at a café near our guesthouse while looking at tiny streams of water from the melting snow dripping down the café’s ledge. We spent most of the day wandering purposelessly in the market.

Walking in the Leh marketWalking in the Leh market

Random snow-covered pebblesRandom snow-covered pebbles

Sidewalks that were shaded, had patches of snow that were now turning into slippery ice. In other places snow and dirt’s unholy matrimony was already begetting mud. By the time we were back (late in the afternoon), the cows had trundled back home and the landscape had drunk all the snow and turned ochre again.

The landscape was ochre againThe landscape was ochre again

As much as we had enjoyed the snow, we slept with a silent prayer for better weather the next day.

Up next Number 9 Dream While I knew that Japan was driven to such desperation during World War II that they resorted to Kamikaze, I had no idea that a similar suicide unit Karthik Raja ‘borrows’ from Mahler Listen to the intro of this song from the Tamizh movie Ullasam. Stop after ~13 seconds. Now jump to the first movement of Mahler’s 4th Symphony.
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