The Path We Choose

We are taught that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. But the mountain does not care for our geometry. It demands a different rhythm. To climb, one must fold back upon oneself, moving left, then right, then left again, always gaining, always losing, always returning to a place that looks familiar yet is higher than before. There is a patience in this. A refusal to rush the ascent. We spend our lives trying to reach the summit, forgetting that the summit is merely a point in space, while the road is where the breath is held. The air grows thin. The world below becomes a memory of shapes and shadows. We move because we must, tracing the veins of the earth, wondering if the destination is worth the exhaustion, or if the turning itself is the only thing that keeps us from falling. What happens when the path finally runs out?

Kamalesh Das has captured this slow ascent in his image titled Zig Zag Rohtang. It reminds me that the way forward is rarely a straight line. Does the road lead us home, or simply further away?