Mountains are a way of life for me. I was hardly four or five years old when I first went to the Rohtang Pass in the Himalayas. My parents were fond of travelling and my father often took us to the mountains of Himachal Pradesh. At that time, there were no roads to the Rohtang Pass - we had to walk up. I have pahaadi blood in me. I am part Dogri and part Punjabi, though I don't hard press the Punjabi side of me!
I feel that the mountains are my emotional homeland. I keep going back to them and when you feel so strongly about something, it comes through in your medium of expression. So, you can find out what the mountains mean to me through my poetry, painting and photography.

I like taking risks.
I remember the first time that I came to India from the US to join films. I landed in Mumbai and then immediately took off for Kashmir! Of course, it wasn't as risky then as it is today, to travel there. But I have never been one to play it safe. So, I am off again to Kashmir soon.
I have always enjoyed going to the mountains, unplanned. I like the idea of exploring remote places. I love to take off on my own. That is my way of connecting with myself, of unwinding, of exploring the terrain within me.
I believe that you never really get to feel the place unless you walk through it, touch it and feel it. I love trekking through the wilderness and am addicted to walking! Though my left knee was injured in a road accident and I can't climb too well, I love to walk through stark terrains and enjoy the solitude.
For years, I wandered in the Himachal region, visiting remote areas of Kinnaur, Lahaul and Spiti…till I discovered Ladakh.

Barren landscapes are peaceful...
I first went to Ladakh in 1995 with Vinod, my fiancé. We drove all the way from Mumbai, sometimes each taking the wheel for 12 hours at a stretch. We were there for nearly two months. We would go and shack up in little villages; five or six hamlets with one gompa would often be termed a village. We also stayed in border areas outlining China and Tibet. That's how Ladakh entered my spiritual, mental and creative landscape. Since then, I have been to Ladakh several times, often on my own. I reach there and take the help of locals to navigate my way around this awesome terrain.
Ladakh is breathtaking in winter. The colours change. There are unimaginable shades of greys and browns in the landscape. It has starkness, serenity and soul. It is more spaced out, intriguing. Maybe, as a rule, starkness appeals to me. Barren landscapes, with the wind howling through them, somehow bereft, alienated and yet soothing and peaceful in their isolation.

I was filled with a child's curiosity.
The most exciting and memorable journey I have taken till date is the Frozen River Trek - the Tchadar Expedition. Tchadar means 'sheet of ice' and this trek takes you across the Zanskar River.
When you travel from Leh to Lamayaru, two rivers - Indus and Zanskar - meet. When you stand on a particular strip of road, you can see the confluence point - the Indus River coming from your left…and from the front, going down into the Indus Valley, is the Zanskar River. I would often stand at this point several times and wonder what lay in the valley. I would invariably stop there, take pictures, watch the light change on the water and reflect across the landscape. I was filled with the immense curiosity of a child. What would the bend in the river reveal to me?
On a trek in January 2004, I landed in Leh. I was fortunate to get two experienced and skilled guides - Lobzan and Rigzin. Lobzan was particularly adept at traversing the terrain at a very fast pace. He was a Zanskari and his family - wife and three daughters - lived across the river. So, he crossed it every now and then.
We had carried dried spinach, Maggi noodles and I, for the most part, lived off the packet of muesli which I had carried with me. We would spend the entire day trekking, wading, finding our way across the precarious sheet of ice. At night, we would discover a cave or rather a shelter along the river bed - little gouges in the rocks which keep you protected from the harsh winds.
The first night, I was scared to venture out and even attend to nature's call. I was afraid of snow leopards or bears attacking me. I soon reasoned that if animals came up to the area, they could easily find me in my tiny shelter. In fact, the guides showed me the paws of a snow leopard embedded in the ice.