The scene outside the window was magical. Snow covered mountains and clear skies; nothing else but the shades of blues and the whites.
Jammu and Kashmir lay further south on the map.
The terrain below is impossible and impassable. It looked like as if it had rained mountains. Mountain peaks as far as the eye could see. The view had been like this for a couple of hours, only the size and the colour of the mountain-tops changed.
A scene from Ice Age flashed before my eyes and I tried not to think of the unthinkable. Surviving a fall of a few hundred meters and being frozen to death is not my style. I don’t think I would make a good exhibit in some Discovery Museum in 2375 AD, either.
I hate the cold. I recall my memory and find consolation in the fact that no aircraft fell to its death in this region since the World War II.
I grin to myself and look at the time. We still have four hours to the destination. We are going to cruise above the clouds for a few more hours. We would take a left further ahead to fly over Pakistan, cross over to Iran and descend over Bandar Abbas to head towards the big city.
Nine hours of scenic beauty is what I’m going to enjoy this time. A few movies, two meals, and capture the view from the window with my mobile every so often – so I could put them together, quietly.