Every year, some time during Dec-Jan months, the famous Pangong Lake in Ladakh freezes over and turns into a large field of ice. The azure waters of the lake are now trapped under a white skin. The mountains, barren and brown in the summer months, now have a sprinkling of snow that decorates their slopes. I made a visit to Pangong and the highlands around it, photographing the expanse of snow and the life that thrives even in these harsh conditions.
While it is a delight to watch the frozen lake, it takes some effort to get this far. The roads to Ladakh are closed in the winter months, with all the high passes buried under deep snow. The temperatures in the region dips to unbelievable lows, like -25C or lesser. Yet, the venerable BRO works all through the winter to keep the road from Leh to Pangong open, without whose efforts a visit would have been impossible.
In July this year, I spent a week travelling through the high Himalayan region of Lahaul & Spiti in Himachal Pradesh. This was my fourth visit to the region and I was leading a small group of photography enthusiasts with me. Being a regular visitor to these places, I had had some definite ideas about the subjects that I wanted to shoot, the moods that I wanted to portray and also had a fairly good idea about the time of the day that would help me make those images.
In Dhankar Monastery, seen in the photograph, I was keen to portray the remoteness of the place and the precarious location where the monastery stood. I had also realized that the evening light from behind the monastery would help differentiate the crag on which the buildings were located and the high mountains that dominated the landscape behind it. Here is the image I created that evening. The dust rising from behind helped enhance the drama in the scene.
There is, in fact, much more drama than what is seen in the photograph. At the valley just below the monastery is the confluences of Spiti and Pin Rivers, and the view is fabulous from the place where I was shooting. Yet, I decided to exclude that from the frame, since having too many elements of interest may have driven away attention from the main story and would work counterproductive in this situation.
There is an endearing feeling in watching the ochre-robed little lads of Chimi Lhakhang. Despite their monk outfits, they are children and are just the way children are. You see them chasing each other or chasing a football in the open space, rolling in the grass harmlessly fighting over little things or trying to escape the chores assigned to them. But these are things that can only be done when they are not chanting continuously under the watchful eyes of the master.
Chimi Lhakhang is a small temple in the central region of Bhutan. Here is an image of one of the boys walking on the lawn, after giving up control over the football.
Also see more about Chimi Lhakhang at ‘Travelling in Bhutan. Experiences to Cherish‘