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A  Window  Seat  to  Everest

Human life is far more important than just getting to the top of a mountain –Sir Edmund Hillary.

 

The Itch for Everest Base Camp

I’ve had this wish—no, this persistent itch—to trek to the Everest Base Camp (EBC) for a while now. I consulted Google Baba, bothered friends and family for info who had ticked it off their lists, and even tried to gently coerce a few comrades I believed to be fit—both in limb and in mind—to come with me.

But alas, while their reasons ranged from the practical to the philosophical, my own body had different plans. Orthopaedic issues started waving red flags like traffic police in Bengaluru during peak hours. You see, in college, I was quite the mountaineer—scaling Shivaji Maharaj’s forts in Maharashtra like a spirited goat. So this, truly, was a blow.

Still, I’m not someone who gives up easily. I stretched, walked, did yoga, buttered up my bones with supplements. But each time I pushed myself, my skeleton system would mutiny me and scream: "I’m the boss here! Sit down, woman!"

Eventually, I began to accept the hard truth: perhaps EBC wasn’t meant for me... not in this lifetime.

Bhutan Calling

Yet, the desire to see the mighty Mount Everest remained—smouldering in a quiet corner of my heart.

So when our daughter planned a family trip to Bhutan (our first international holiday together), I was thrilled. Not just for the culture, but because we would be in the lap of the Himalayas.

During my frantic reading, I stumbled upon a travel blog that said you could spot Mount Everest from the flight — around 40 minutes before landing at Paro International Airport. Hope took off faster than our plane.

Operation Window Seat

Now, the daughter and I are die-hard window-seat claimers. My husband (hubs), wise and diplomatic, chose to let the women sort it out. To avoid a squabble at 30,000 feet, our daughter booked two consecutive window seats on Druk Air.

We took off from Indira Gandhi International Airport. The weather lived up to the rainy May promise of astrologers. Clouds. Clouds. More clouds. I clung to the window like a toddler to a smartphone, eyes sweeping the skies, whispering, "Maybe... maybe... just maybe..."

But Everest played hard to get.

Bhutan: A Consolation Prize? Not Quite

I disembarked in Paro with my widest "all-izz-well" smile and was instantly rewarded with cool air and majestic mountains.

At Dochu La Pass, the peaks were hidden in a romantic embrace with the clouds.

At Chele La (Bhutan’s highest motorable pass), I turned to prayer: "Please Mountain Gods, Weather Gods, just one glimpse!"

And they listened.

Clear skies. Open views.

Our cheerful driver said, "Today seems to be your lucky day, Ma'am!" I nearly danced—but chose restraint, as the short walk had already left me breathless. Ironically, my husband—with five stents—walked up like it was a gentle stroll.

I didn’t care. The Himalayas had embraced me. I soaked in the view, reluctant to leave.

The Moment That Mattered

Return flight. Same mission.

This time, our seats were on the right side of the plane. I estimated 15 minutes after take-off from Paro would be the magic window.

And then—there it was. 

The moment I spotted HIM—Mount Everest from the sky.

A tiny, glorious tip piercing the clouds. At first, I doubted myself. A few minutes of frozen awe later, the pilot confirmed it over the PA. Amidst the din of a group of schoolteachers behaving like schoolgirls, I sat in silence.

My husband glanced over with polite disbelief. I, on the other hand, was somewhere floating above the clouds, whispering thanks to the mountain, the sky, and that random blogger whose post had kept the hope alive.

A Blessing from the Skies

You know those WhatsApp forwards: "If you can see this, consider yourself blessed"?

That’s exactly how I felt.

Later that day,  Hubs posted the photo on his WhatsApp status. Lt Cdr Harleen, a former colleague of his replied:

"And Sir, today is International Everest Day!"

Wait—what?

I looked it up.

What is International Everest Day?

International Everest Day is celebrated every 29th May, marking the day in 1953 when Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay summited Mount Everest. It honours courage, perseverance, and the human spirit.

And I had seen Everest—on that very day.

Paisa Vasool? And Then Some.

Coincidence? Serendipity? Divine humour?

Maybe the mountain knew my heart. Maybe, as I surrendered the dream to climb, he decided to fly to me.

Was it paisa vasool?

Absolutely. This was beyond paisa vasool.

It felt like Everest looked me in the eye and said:

"Okay. You may not climb me. But I see you. And I’ll let you see me."

And honestly, maybe that’s all I ever needed.

Gratitude, altitude, and everything in between.

Some dreams are climbed. Others fly to your window. Some dreams don’t need footsteps—they only need a window seat and a universe that listens.

 

Humne tum ko dekha,  tumne hum ko dekha, Aise...🎶🎝🎜

Thank you, Everest. I saw you. And you saw me.

✨ Have you ever had a dream come true in an unexpected way? Tell me in the comments—I’d love to hear your story!