In 2015, we were on our K2 Base Camp trek. On the way back, Uzair fell ill and we had to return quickly, skipping two base camps in a single day and traveling through the night. By the time we neared the road where a jeep was supposed to pick us up, the stream had swollen too much to cross. The driver tried everything — placing rocks, clearing a path — but it was impossible. It was nearly 2 a.m. Finally he said, “Meri phuppo ka ghar bilkul kareeb hai.” We followed him to a small village called Gulaab Gaon. They welcomed us warmly and gave us a room with a small window opening to a sky full of stars. As we sat quietly looking up, we heard a chicken clucking outside. A little while later, that same chicken arrived as murgi ka saalan, along with sweet dried khubaaniyan. After days in the mountains and no proper food on the return, that meal — and that kindness — became a moment I will never forget.
