Icy climb to a sage's lake

Lake Parashar, tucked away amongst snow-veiled mountains in Himachal Pradesh at an elevation of 2,730 metres, gets its name from an ancient sage who is believed to have meditated here.

Waking up to a clear and sunny sky in Manali, after the incessant pitter-patter of rain the previous night, our spirits are boosted as we decide to set out as planned for the lake, located about 90 km away. Passing through Kullu, the landscape changes dramatically as we leave Bhunter and Bajaura behind. Our serpentine route is magical and treacherous at once, climbing past the villages of Ropa, Rahala, Kandi and Teheri.

On vast stretches en route we are unable to find any roadside stall selling water, soft drinks or eatables. As the temperature dips even lower, we hug our woollen garb closer. But the picturesque route more than makes up for these minor inconveniences. The lofty mountains with their pine and deodar studded slopes inspire awe and fear equally. Our driver, Sanjay, deftly negotiates the car along the narrow incline and hairpin bends on a rough, bumpy road that is pretty much non-existent in stretches.

About halfway to our journey's end, we finally spot a small dhaba playing the latest Bollywood numbers. We eagerly grab our hot cups of ginger chai — a truly welcome drink for our chattering teeth and frayed nerves. Close by is a small waterfall that prettily tumbles over rocks and mossy outcrops with a merry little rumble. On a small bridge across the water, a group of village lads wield the willow, with perhaps dreams of turning into a Sachin or Dhoni. A lone bird calmly surveys the surroundings from its perch on a pipeline leading out of the dhaba. A woman walks by, carrying a bunch of flowers that is seen throughout Himachal. A rich red blossom sans fragrance, it looks like a cross between the hibiscus and rose. We ask her for its name and learn that it is locally called bro, and is said to contain medicinal properties effective against digestive disorders. She offers to make us a cup of bro tea, but we politely decline, having just had our ginger special.

About 3 km from our destination we are flagged down by a villager who informs us that the road ahead is blocked due to snowfall the previous night. Seeing the disappointment on our faces, he offers to guide us on foot to the lake, but warns that the route would be slippery. We readily take up his offer and begin our slow, measured trudge through the snow-layered path. Our regular sport shoes, bereft of spikes, do create anxiety for us every now and then as we slide and slip on the fleecy sheet, soiled in patches by boot marks.

Our knees buckle as we make one spirited effort to descend the few hundred metres separating us from our destination. On finally reaching the lake, words fail us as we stand enchanted and drink in the spellbinding vistas unfolding before our eyes. The play of mist and clouds kills all hopes of a photo-op, but we are content to glimpse, however briefly, the beauteous surroundings of the lake, the silhouettes of snow-draped mountains and gargantuan green trees.

Nestled in a cup-like valley, fringed by icy-white mountains and overlooking the meandering flow of the Beas, the lake and the temple on its bank are dedicated to Sage Parashar, the grandson of Sage Vasisht and the father of Vyas, the epic storyteller of the Mahabharata . A wire fence along the lake's periphery is meant to keep it pollution-free.

According to legend, the lake was formed after the sage struck the place with his axe. Locals believe the depth of the lake is unfathomable. The temple housing a medium-sized statue of the sage is said to have been built from a single deodar tree. History records that the three-tiered pagoda-style temple was built in the 14th century by Ban Sen, the Raja of Mandi.

With its elaborate and intricate carvings of animals, serpents and mythological characters, the temple bears a striking resemblance to the Hadimba Devi Temple in Manali. Much of its slate-tiled roof is covered by sheaths of snow. The temple, we are told, pulsates with activity during the second week of June, when an annual festival is celebrated here with a congregation of deities from neighbouring temples.