Following The Mighty Indus – From Nanga Parbat down the Karakoram Highway

The man sat back and brooded, his eyes gazing upon the rolling mountains, which held his glance with their austere beauty; sheer and grand, with hues of blue and purple, their ridges rising up as if crafted by the hands of a Titan in some long forgotten age, their peaks laced with silver and gold – as of quicksilver poured over forest honey. They gradually faded into the haze of distant deepest burgundy and then there – a peak shone, golden fire burst forth as if the light of the setting sun had lit a torch held aloft by the hands of the Queen of the mountain Hada who haunt those high lonely places.

The sky was laced with bands of crimson and amber, turquoise and sapphire – his dark eyes stared into the sunset – reflecting the golden light which morphed into dancing immolated imps set within the shining black orbs of his eyes.

The wind stirred the flames of his small fire, which shook and spluttered blowing sparks and houseless sprinkles of ash towards him, he stirred and brushed off a speck which had flown onto his blanket – lifting him out of his reverie.

He leant back on his elbows and looked up towards the heavens to catch a sight of the first stars and the imps abruptly vanished, leaving a glint of cold silver in their wake.

Excerpt from The Ghost of The Mountain by Ibraar Hussain

The Mighty Indus

She rises in The Himalayas and splits apart the three great mountain ranges of the world, then leaves them to make the long journey to her true lover The Sea.

Like a Dryad She entices and attracts the Giants, blessing them with her delicate embrace then teasingly abandons them to seek another. She rises from sacred Mount Kailash in India then gyrates West and Northwards through the Himalayas, avoiding Nanda Devi to the South until she caresses the western most rampart of The Himalaya – the Nanga Parbat massif in Pakistan, where She pays no heed to man made lines on a map (though India has started to significantly increase its Dam building upstream – limiting flow down stream – a serious Crime if ever there was one) With the Rakhiot face of Nanga Parbat the Himalaya comes to an end and the Karakoram rises and towers away northwards with lofty peaks clustered together like hands reaching out towards the heavens; begging her to come – but she doesn’t, the temptress laughs as she flows away Southwards along the Eastern end of the Hindu Kush; what The Hindu Kush lacks in height it more than makes up for it’s sense of beauty and enchantment, this Giant eyes her with suspicion, no surprise as he is part of Tirich Mir – The Lord of Shadows, The desolate One.

Seeing the Indus for the first time was like the very first time I peeled away the under garments of my first lover. I had to touch her, feel her, let her overwhelm my senses; but with time such experiences tend to fade  as King Osric says in Conan; “There comes a time…when the jewels cease to sparkle… when the gold loses its luster..” but not so with The Indus, she’ll always stay with me and I shall return to her as long as I am able to, it wouldn’t be a disaster if my final resting place was to be nestled in her bosom…

The Rakhiot Glacier like white lava pours forth from the gaping mouth of Nanga Parbat, who like an ice Dragon frozen as if by some magic, is set in a perpetual roar which never ceases. That is a sight to behold, but the Glacier eventually feeds into the Indus, who like a succubi draws away the essence of the mountain and drains it far to the south, into the warm waters of the Arabian Sea.

As the day wanes and the sun sets, the mountains are set aflame, which slowly fades as night falls and the stars appear, like sparkling jewels in a vast crown. Stand and stare at the ring of encircling mountains at night, the moonlit fills the peaks with an inner light and the spotlight gleams onto the face of the Glacier, as if a stage. Don’t take any Mushrooms as you’ll see all sorts of strange ethereal things and mystical things dancing in the cold light, like shadow plays. From Fairy Meadows the path leads to The Beyal Camp and then onto The Base Camp where a monument dedicated to the dozens of adventurers who perished on her ridges and peaks can be seen, The mountain takes its share of lives, as if The Dragon demands blood for violating his rest, sacrifices made so that he doesn’t awake from his age long slumber and lay waste to lands of the living.

Turn Northwards and you’ll see the Karakoram Range, with Mt Rakaposhi rising with its summit enshrouded in cloud;  vanguard to the Titanic army beyond in the Karakoram, silently staring across the plateau at the sleeping Dragon, as if set there by some long forgotten God until given the signal to march.

The land for miles, along the Indus Valley is littered by the bones of the mountains, rubble, boulders sometimes as large of a house are scattered and strewn everywhere; the results of untold years of the waters of The Indus cutting through the hard skin of the Titans which stand guarding these stony heights.

Here one can’t photograph The Indus, or rather you could but the Photograph won’t be able to do it a justice. If you’re lucky you’ll be able to, at the right time with the right light snap something, but don’t hold your breath, as the experience is in the gnostic language of nature, which few can feel and even fewer can understand. The banks rise very high in places, in others only approachable by the intrepid. The Karakoram Highway passes by; closely following the course of the Indus South, deeper into the Himalaya – into Indus Kohistan, the Land of The Indus and Mountain; like narrow New York City roads closed in by sheer skyscrapers which tower over you, blocking out the sun and covering you in gloom which seeps into your bones, into your soul. This journey, 18 hours by car is depressing, the cliffs and mountains aren’t beautiful here; they’re frightening and the longer the journey lasts the more they close in like claws, you’ll be suffocated and want to escape the deepening dark of the stoney Mirkwood as night begins to fall.

All Photos:
Konica Minolta Maxxum Dynax 7D
Minolta 50mm f1.4
Minolta 70-210mm f4
Shot in RAW and edited on Adobe Photoshop Light Room 5 on Apple Macintosh Pro 2013
Late November 2022

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