Crossing the alien latitudes to the north of Delhi for the first time in my life, I reached Kibber on the second of June where I was welcomed by seemingly unwelcoming facial expressions of Tanzin Tsewang, known as Lamaji to the world. The man, who is always found in his perdurable reddish maroon coat, welcomed me with a big heart and a smile which I later learned was archetypal to him. He mumbled something to me which I could not fathom, but somehow I said ‘yes’ and minutes later he served me with a much required, hot, smoking cup of Spitian tea. How welcoming and caring of him! He welcomed me as he welcomes everyone else. On the next day, he took us for a walk till the Chicham bridge, helping us spot Griffon vulture and Blue sheep on the way. While walking, he occasionally plucked some plant-part and popped it into his mouth and kept chewing it forever. As days passed, his mumble turned ditty to me and I could understand everything he told to me very clearly.

Fast-forward to the eighth of June, I am at Chomoling, few hundred meters above kibber and after two days of snowing, we were waiting for students from Munselling school, Rangrik to arrive for the nature camps. A peculiar sound came from behind the hills, just on the foothills of giant Mt. Kanamo. It appeared to be a pair of fast-flying, white bellied, medium sized, Pigeon-like birds. They were out of sight within 20 seconds but not out of my mind. They did not return on that day. When I inquired with Kalzang Gurmet, he told me that they were Chhalong or the Tibetan Sandgrouse. Sandgrouses are ground-dwelling birds that can be found in Africa, Asia and Europe. The Tibetan Sandgrouse is one of the sixteen broad types of Sandgrouses found around the world, which is found in central Asia and the Tibetan region. They mostly feed on seeds, grass and buds and are found in high-altitude, barren, stony semi-desert habitats. The female has more distinctive black barring on its body than the male.

I had a hankering to know more about this winsome wee feathered friend. We did not see them for the next two days. But on the morning after that, I heard the same peculiar sound again. It was freezing cold and I did not want to come out of my swanky sleeping bag. I had to toil for around half an hour to get inside it every night as it was my first tryst with this human-eating brute. But the lust to see this bird forced me out of my tent at freezing temperature, let alone the sleeping bag. Even Kalzang was out with his camera. We clicked them for close to an hour. Slowly, everyone in the camp got exhilarated. They were surely camera loving Sandgrouses. The camp staff left their work and started snatching each other’s binoculars to see these unexpected visitors. In one photograph, I clicked Kalzang clicking the Sandgrouses and in another, he clicked all of us with the Sandgrouse in the foreground. The excitement subsided and I and Kalzang were the only two left with cameras who were clicking the birds. In one instance, the birds got so close to me that I felt uncomfortable and guilty. I sat down, and the Sandgrouses, only ten feet away, muttered something to me which I could not understand. Gukgukgukgukgukgukguk, one of them said to me; I turned my camera and showed him its own picture. It gave a glaring look, tilted it neck, moved its head sideways and saw through its wide open eyes and repeated its Moorish song. They were comfortable of my presence but I still left the place to give them some peace and personal space. They continued sand bathing, sun basking, drinking water and popping in occasional food from the ground. How caring and welcoming of me I thought! They welcomed us to Chomoling. I watched them almost every day till they completed their daily ritual- flying in with a peculiar sound from Kanamo- which was music to my ears now, taking a semi-circular turn and landing on the ridgeline- popping in food and flying to the plains of Chomoling and then to the stream near my tent. The only difference was I watched them without a camera. I felt like I could understand what they are trying to tell me and I talked to them.

Sitting at the view of miniscule Kibber village from Chomoling, I thought- crossing across from the foothills of Kanamo, beyond their safe hills to Chomoling for the umpteenth time of their lives, the Tibetan Sandgrouses were welcomed by a seemingly unwelcoming body language of homo-sapiens from different parts of the world, known as humans, with picture-clicking weapons of different shapes and sizes. We welcomed them with a big heart, clicking photographs and trying to speak to them. I thought these Sandgrouses have some eternal connection and bonding with Lamaji. Both of them talk in Moorish to me, which I didn’t understand at first but was song to me later, they both pop up food from the ground, whatever they get; both never change their coat and have a big heart for accommodating the visitors, and they look very similar. I think Lamaji has a soul of the Sandgrouse in a human’s body and the Sandgrouses that come to Chomoling have Lamaji’s soul in Sandgrouse’s attire. Both way, I love them both and I love how everything in this world is interconnected.

Well people have weird perceptions these days! Thinking in the Himalayas can be really spiritual.