An account of our trip to Nepal - Day 5

Day 5: 8th April 2026

The morning air bit into our skin – temperatures hovering in the low single digits – as we set out for Muktinath, perched nearly 3,000 feet above Kagbeni’s altitude of 9,200 ft. Oxygen levels here were barely 70% of sea level, and every breath reminded us that we were guests in the Himalayas. Snow-capped peaks framed the horizon, silent witnesses to our climb.

  

        

 A view of the River Kali Gandaki from our balcony at Kagbeni

The ascent was deliberate: 300 steps, carefully engineered to ease the burden of pilgrims. For those unable to climb, dolis carried by bearers and mules offered alternatives. But we chose the steps, each one a heartbeat closer to salvation.

      

           Entrance to the 300-odd steps                          Snow freckled environs

At the summit, snowflakes began to fall, soft at first, then gathering strength. Frenzied devotees rushed to the 108 water spouts (Muktidhara), fed by the icy Kali Gandaki River. Cow-headed spouts lined in a semicircle poured freezing torrents, and tradition demanded immersion. First, a dip in the twin ponds opposite the temple, then a shower under the spouts.

              108 spouts pouring ice-cold water                         The two ponds in the foreground

Stripping down to boxers, Ravi and I braved the ritual. We dashed under the spouts, gasping as the icy water struck, then plunged into the ponds. Suma, ever the guardian of tradition, reminded us of the correct order – ponds first, spouts after. So, back we went. Action replay. Double whammy. Snow intensified, but so did our resolve.

Nagendra, our co-traveler who had lost both legs below the knees in a tragic accident, was carried through the ritual by his friend Srivatsa. His courage lit up the group – proof that faith conquers physical limits.

The queue for darshan stretched serpentine, nearly 30 minutes to reach the sanctum. Inside, the copper idol of Sri Muktinath Vishnu, seated in padmasana, radiated serenity. Revered by Hindus as the Lord of Salvation and by Buddhists as a sacred site, it was a rare confluence of faiths. Performing aarti here felt like touching eternity.

Lord Muktinath (an old picture, as photography is prohibited now)

Nearby, the giant Buddha statue stood sentinel, visible from the walking track. And then, the marvel of Jwala Mai – the Eternal Flame. Natural gas seeped through rock, burning continuously on water, a mystical union of fire and water, symbolizing the five elements.

Descending was harder than climbing. Snow thickened, umbrellas opened, and we sought shelter in shacks. At -1°C, hot tea became nectar. But the day’s drama was only beginning.

An elderly lady at the next table collapsed into a cold attack. Mistaken camphor (actually naphthalene balls!) shocked us, but Vasu sprang into action – rubbing the soles of her feet, generating heat, and reviving her with hot water. Relief washed over us. Moments later, a teenage girl suffered the same fate. Another rescue, another sigh of relief.

But providence wasn’t done. One of our group ladies convulsed – lockjaw, bleeding from her tongue, oxygen levels plummeting. Panic gripped us. Her husband prayed desperately, while an insensitive onlooker tried filming the ordeal. Suma, furious, slapped the phone out of his hands – a moment of righteous rage.

The doctor arrived, but the oxygen cylinder was empty. Another center’s cylinder – also empty. Tension peaked. An injection stabilized her, and finally, an oxygen generator brought relief. Her blood sugar was dangerously high, compounded by inadequate clothing against the cold. The doctor advised immediate transfer to Jomsom Hospital.

Finding a taxi was another ordeal. Time stretched painfully until one arrived. She was rushed to Jomsom, accompanied by group members. The rest of us packed hurriedly, lunch hastily served by Pema, and we followed. We had to forego performing the rites for our departed members of our families due to the fiasco. Man Proposes, God Disposes!

At Jomsom Hospital, oxygen revived her. After hours of monitoring, she was discharged with strict instructions: oxygen support until reaching a lower altitude and follow-up in Baglung. Santosh, our charioteer, became guardian of the oxygen flow.

Late at night, we reached Baglung, checked into Hotel Peace Heaven, and sent her straight to the hospital. Dinner – simple rice and dal – waited, but our appetite was for good news. When the companions returned – bringing her back, with word that she was stable – relief swept through us. Gratitude replaced exhaustion. We hit the bed, hearts heavy with the day’s trials, yet thankful for divine grace.

A word of caution to the travellers visiting Muktinath in particular, and high altitude places in general:

Don't forget to carry camphor and an Oxymeter. Drink plenty of water and take necessary precautions if you have high blood pressure and/or diabetes.

---

Day 5 was a theatrical crescendo – snow, sacred rituals, near tragedies, and miraculous rescues. It carried the weight of myth and the fragility of human life, reminding us that pilgrimage is not just about reaching temples, but about surviving the journey with faith, courage, and compassion.