Originally posted in medium.com
Kyrgyzstan is a nation defined by its natural beauty. Joyously unspoilt mountainscapes, stark craggy ridges and rolling jailoos (summer pastures) are brought to life by semi-nomadic, yurt-dwelling shepherds— Lonely Planet Central Asia
An Eagle-Hunter in Kyrgyzstan
I was always fascinated about remote and unknown regions of Central Asia’s highlands. Even when there is not so much a thing called ‘unknown’ in today’s world of air travel and internet, the mountainous regions far north of the Himalayas seemed to be away from everywhere. The region always sounded exotic, with its fables of Silk-Route and of marching armies of Chengiz Khan and Timur Leng. Their nomadic settlements in the mountains and fascinating eagle-hunters on their Central-Asian horses were stuff that made for exotic stories.
TL;DR1 – it was nearly impossible for me!
TL;DR2 – may be it was possible, if I had superpowers.
Let’s get into the details. I will make this quick with bullet points and try not to make this into a rant. And if you are up to reading beyond the boring facts, continue reading after the bullet-points to know how much fun it was trying to change a ticket booked on Jet Airways website.
- It all began when I tried to change the dates of a ticket I had booked on Jet Airways website.
- I went to the website, pulled out my ticket details and clicked on the nice big ‘modify’ button. I was ready to pay the fines, difference in fare, non-hidden costs, hidden costs, everything!
- What I received was a warning, stating that a ticket booked on ‘Net Banking, <Payment Type 1>, <Payment Type 2>,…’ can’t be modified on the website. It probably listed every possible mode of payment except credit cards. I had booked using Net Banking, which meant I couldn’t modify my ticket on the website (re-checking as I type, which year is this? 1982?). The warning helpfully said, I can call them, which I promptly did.
- The Jet Airways staff (let’s call her S for convenience) who picked up the phone helpfully suggested that I might as well cancel the ticket. I did not understand why she suggested so, until I realized how hard the modifications can be. When we checked the monetary benefits (or losses), it turned out that modifying a ticket would save me a few hundred rupees against cancelling and booking a new one (Either ways, I was loosing a fortune).
- I insisted that we change the existing ticket. S said ‘I have no issues’. Great!
- So we rescheduled the dates, and she mentioned the amount due. Considering that we are in 2018, and considering that I know how telephonic payments work, I kept my debit card ready (the same one associated with Net Banking payment I had initially made). I asked S to put me through IVR for making payment. I thought I was may be a minute away from getting my modified ticket. Turns out, I was counting for the chicken before the egg…
- S asks, ‘do you have your credit card ready?’. I said ‘yes,’ as a matter of fact and then I thought let me be technically correct and said ‘it’s a debit card‘. Anyway, what difference would it make as long as it can draw some money?
- S says, ‘No sir, we don’t accept debit cards’. Only credit cards are okay! I grumbled, and unwillingly took out a credit card, which I did not really want to use for this payment. Well, at least let me get this job done and move on with life. So, with the credit card out, am I a minute away from getting the modified ticket? Well, not so soon.
- Next question: ‘the card is issued by which bank?’ I thought this question was unwarranted. But remember I wanted to be done with this and move on with my beautiful life? So I gave the name. Just for your information, it was issued by one of the big private banks.
- The next thing I hear made it certain that I can’t move on with my beautiful life that easily. ‘Sir, we can’t accept credit card issued from ‘that bank”. Well, no debit cards, no other forms of payment except credit cards, and definitely not the card issued by the bank you use! S went on to provide technical reasons on why they can’t use my bank’s card etc.
- After this, I do remember asking S if we are operating in 2018. But this is all not the fault of ‘S,’ whose job is just to answer the phone and do what she is allowed to do, so I decided to take it easy (I need to quickly move on to my beautiful life, remember?) and asked her what are my options to pay. The answers were convincing enough that we are in 1982.
- I could go to the airport within the next one hour and make the payment there OR I can of course make payment using a credit card except from the one that I have.
- I did consider using my super-human powers to fly across the city and get to the airport in the next few minutes. But DGCA does not permit flying objects (and super-humans) near airports. The law-abiding good super-human that I am, I decided not to take that option. What else was left? Well, when it’s a checkmate, there are no options left. Just bow down, accept your defeat and move on in life. Precisely what I did.
There are some spectacles of nature that make you loose your senses and gasp in utter wonderment. I was witness to one such moment a month ago – an unmatched show of the Himalayan might and grandeur as the sun shined on the Panchchuli Peaks and clouds wandered around the body of the mountains, dancing to create a spectacle of light and shade that left me breathless. If I were to die that moment, I would end in utter happiness with an expression of winder permanently etched in my eyes. It was a feeling beyond happiness that falls hopelessly short in words.
The previous day, we had walked through relentless rain and thick blanket of fog that appeared to be endless. Raindrops lashed on our umbrellas making loud enough spatter to drown our own voices. The trail was magnificent nonetheless, taking us through carpets of wildflowers in all of the rainbow colours, and rocky wastelands where the brahmakamala bloomed snowy bright. We were often on a no-more-than-a-foot wide walkway that dropped into gorges with invisible depths vanishing into the fog. Each step reminded me the scale of the mountains, shifting my moods from wonder to terror from moment to moment. Small flowers caressed my feet and filled me with joy, forcing each step into a careful act of love while the giant boulders we crossed incited instants of anxiety. We walked all through the day along wet, foggy landscapes without knowing where we were and not seeing where we were headed, without even a glimpse of mountains across the horizon, blinded by the white blanket and wishing to get on the other side of it.
Every bridge is eventually crossed and every storm has to subside. Our wait lasted a full day before the mountains revealed their meridians next morning. We had spent a night camped in the wilderness without realizing the magical landscapes we had arrived into. On the day-break, a shining Mt.Maiktoli smiled at us and blessed us with all that we had longed for. The morning sun cast a pink glow on the soft-white peak, sent a battalion of clouds to dance around the lineup of snow peaks, and asked if he can be of any more service.
More service, I did ask the sun for! Accepting an unusual insight that dawned into me, I climbed up to a steep ridge behind me struggling more than a half-an-hour on a steep ascent where a small slip could well be my last, and landed on another wonderland of light and shade created by the master craftsman that was unmatched to anything that I had seen in all my life’s wanderings. The Panchachuli peaks stood there, right under the sun, in all of their glory exposed. Clouds formed all around them, swiftly changing locations, each time creating a jaw-dropping formation. They formed many varied constitutions and each time seemed to ask me how do they look, and if I wanted more. Of course, I wanted more. And I had no answers to the ‘how do we look’ question; I was numbed by the beauty, my mind had long since stopped working and there was nothing left for me to say or think. I could stop living that moment and never ask for anything more than what I witnessed that resplendent morning!