Following my successful summit of Lobuche East in October 2021, I set my sights on an even greater challenge—Himlung Himal, a 7,126-meter peak in the remote reaches of Nepal. With my confidence bolstered by my previous climb, I was eager to test myself once again. However, the mountains had a different lesson in store for me, one that would teach me the true meaning of survival, humility, and knowing when to turn back.
A Treacherous Push: Facing the Unforgiving Cold of Himlung Himal
The climb to Himlung Himal began under the shadow of uncertainty. Even at base camp, it was clear that the weather was tricky—earlier climbers were still waiting for the right summit window, and the notorious winds and sudden temperature drops of Himlung were on everyone’s mind. Just like an 8,000-meter peak, a 7,000-meter summit requires the perfect conditions, and I knew that timing would be everything.
On the night of November 3rd, after a night at Camp-2, we set out for the summit. The weather initially seemed promising, and by midnight, we were making good progress. But as the hours passed, the reality of high-altitude climbing began to settle in. In the early hours of November 4th, around 4 am, the biting cold began to intensify. To shield my exposed face from the freezing air, I wrapped it with a heavy-weight buff. The buff made breathing more difficult, slowing my pace, but I kept pushing forward.
A Heart-Wrenching Decision: Turning Back Just Short of the Summit
By 5 am, the winds had picked up speed, whipping around us with ferocity. The temperature dropped even further, sending shivers down my spine. As the
darkness began to fade and dawn approached, our group halted at 7,000 meters—just 126 meters short of the summit. The ropes ahead had come loose, and one of the Sherpas went ahead to fix them. It was then that I noticed something alarming: a layer of ice had formed on my nose, the moisture from my breath having frozen in the cold winds. Worse still, I realized I couldn’t feel my nose at all.
Lakpa Sherpa, my mentor, quickly noticed the ice forming on my nose and immediately recognized the signs of severe frostbite. Without hesitation, he had me start using bottled oxygen. I was told that we would have to turn back. My initial reaction was one of defiance—after all, I was so close to becoming the first Indian to summit Himlung Himal. My ego was in full swing, and I was determined to push forward, consequences be damned. But Lakpa’s words brought me back to reality: “It’s more important for you to get back to your family in one piece, fully alive. You can always return to Himlung next year.”
A Descent to Safety: Navigating the Perils of Frostbite and Evacuation
With a heavy heart, I heeded his advice. There was no possibility of a helicopter rescue at 7,000 meters, so we had to descend to 5,800 meters for evacuation. As we made our way down, I could feel the situation worsening—my nose was turning black, and I began to lose vision in my left eye after dropping my goggles earlier. The bright sunlight at high altitudes had caused temporary blindness.
By the time we reached Camp-2, Ashok Lama, one of the most experienced guides, was preparing the site for a potential helicopter landing. He saw my nose and assured me that it would be okay, though I could see the concern in his eyes. It had taken me six hours to descend to Camp-2, and we waited another two hours for the chopper to arrive. It was the festive season in Nepal, and finding an experienced pilot willing to fly at that altitude in a restricted zone was a challenge. But eventually, I was airlifted by Captain Deepak Garbuja to a hospital in Kathmandu.
I had the chance to meet Capt Deepak again in October 2022, and this time, I took a moment to thank him for evacuating me—and of course, we snapped a selfie together.
A Miraculous Turn: Healing Against All Odds
At the hospital, the doctors delivered unsettling news: part of my nose was beyond saving, and they planned to amputate the lower portion after five days. Despite the fear, I accepted the situation. I didn’t dwell on how my family would react, what others would think, or how my appearance might change. I simply allowed myself to process the reality.
And then, something miraculous happened. By the third day, the doctors noticed that the lower part of my nose was regaining color—it was turning pink, a sign of life. Within a week, my nose had begun to heal itself, defying the doctors' initial prognosis.
Embracing Humility: The Power of Letting Go and Allowing Miracles
This experience taught me several invaluable lessons. I learned to recognize when it’s time to quit, to set aside ego in the face of life-threatening situations, and to accept circumstances as they are. Sometimes, when you do that, miracles happen.
The Summit Will Wait: A Lesson in Humility and Survival
Whether you're just starting out or have years of experience, remember that the mountains demand not just your skill, but your humility. Know when to push forward and when to step back—sometimes, the greatest victory is in recognizing your limits. Set your ego aside, accept the reality of the situation, and trust that making the right decision can lead to unexpected outcomes, even miracles. The summit will always be there, but your life and well-being come first.
While climbing in the mountains, my guiding principle for success—one that has helped me make the right decisions in the toughest moments—is simply this: "Returning to my family in one piece, fully alive."
This family picture was clicked a month after the incident.