It is said that when the glacier melts and flows into the river it sweeps almost anything that happens to lie in its path of utter destruction. Countless bridges have been made over the river and countless bridges have fallen prey to its fury. Slipping the Endeavour into four-wheel mode, we quietly glided over the dry riverbed, as if we didn't want to awaken the sleeping glacier. Before Pangong Lake happened in my life, I had often sought the true meaning of 'beauty'. When I first saw the brilliantly blue waters of the lake and the huge dramatically shaped mountains at its flank, I remember whispering, 'this is the true meaning of beauty'. Never have I or Ashok seen a scenery so surreal and ethereal that had we not been in our senses we would have no doubt thought it to be a mirage.

Pangong Lake to be honest is more like an ocean flanked at the sides by sand dune-like gargantuan mountains that shielded this heaven from the ordinary world. The midnight blue water is unusually choppy for a lake and icy cold, but that was not to deter me from dipping my feet into it and splashing about.

The vastness of the lake is such that it doesn't recognize the man made boundaries of nations and flows nonchalantly into China (Over 100kms of the lake lies in China).

A couple of months later at home, while going through a few old articles, I stumbled upon a piece written by a retired Indian army General many years ago, which told the story of a platoon of brave Kumaoni soldiers who had laid down their lives fighting the Chinese invaders in '61, further up Pangong Lake. So many secrets this place held. So many stories to tell.

The banks of the lake are popular camping sites. Ashok and I, taking inspiration from the Israeli couple who sat outside their shocking pink tent watching the pair of black necked Siberian migratory cranes gliding smoothly over the water, decided to set up our tent at a sandy stretch that extended a few yards into the lake. Anyone who has ever gone camping will know what I mean when I say that, 'setting up a tent is no child's play, especially with the wind creating havoc'. 'To hell with the tent', I said half an hour later.

It was late in the afternoon when we decided it would be best to head back to Leh, as there was always the lingering possibility of Pagla Nala resorting to its mischievous antics. As we drove away, I turned around and took one last look at the lake. I had a feeling that this was not the last time that I was seeing the lake, this most magnificent of places in the whole wide world.

Day 7, to Khardung La
How time flies by. It had been exactly a week since we had left the heat and dust of Delhi, but it seemed like only the other day. On the seventh day of our roadtrip, we would drive to Khardung La Pass, which at 18,380 feet is the highest motorable road in the world. From Khardung La we had decided to drive back to Leh and then straight to Sarchu. This was the final stage of our roadtrip, we sadly realised as the Endeavour left the city of Leh behind us and made its way through tiny picturesque villages towards Khardung La. 40kms north of Leh; the world's highest motorable road lies in the Nubra valley high up in the Himalayas.

The climb to Khardung La is steep and roads unpaved and narrow. This was potential landslide area I thought, watching the huge rocks, boulders and loose dirt gathered on the slope of the mountain a few feet from us. I wondered what kept them from tumbling down and annihilating all that stood in its way.

Khardung La resembled a mela on that particular day. There were countless cars parked at the side of the road and people were talking animatedly and going almost crazy with their Nikons and Canons. 'We have made it Raj', said Ashok with much emotion. We were standing where not many have stood before us; we were practically on the top of the world. Looking at the deep blue sky, I felt I could just jump and touch it. Never have I felt so invincible and satisfied, as I did that windy morning on the Pass.

Khardung La falls on the erstwhile Silk Route, where many centuries ago the caravans with thousands of camels and horses had passed through on its way to China and Central Asia. Today, caravans of a different sort drive through Khardung La, carrying essential supplies and rations to the soldiers at Siachen Glacier, which lies further up in the next valley.