In the Middle of it -high in Kishtwar Himalaya There are partnerships in climbing that feel engineered—built on convenience, proximity, or shared ambition. And then there are those that evolve more organically, forged over years of shared exposure, risk, and trust. My climbing life with my brother, Spandan Sanyal, belongs firmly to the latter. Ours is not just a record of ascents, but a slow accumulation of days where movement, fear, and decision-making aligned across terrain that demanded everything we had. It began, in many ways, on 20 September 2017 , on the Mahalaya route. A long line— 550 meters, TD, 6a+ —that forced us to reconcile with scale. We were younger then, but already drawn to routes that required more than physical ability. Mahalaya wasn’t simply about climbing; it was about managing space, exposure, and fatigue. The rock demanded precision, especially in the harder sections, but what stayed with us was the continuity—the sense that once committed, retreat dissolv...
TNF_India_Expedition_2019 There is a tendency in climbing to separate disciplines too cleanly. Bouldering is power. Sport climbing is endurance. Alpine climbing is commitment. Big walls are logistics. These distinctions are useful for training, for conversation, and for classification. But on the wall itself—especially on new ground—they begin to dissolve. A hard move above gear does not belong to a category. It belongs to a moment. A long day at altitude does not resemble a discipline; it becomes a sequence of decisions. What matters is not whether a climb is labeled alpine, trad, or free—it is whether the climber can move, judge, and commit under the conditions presented. My own progression has been an attempt to bring these strands together—not as separate skills, but as a coherent method . Two alpine trad first ascents in the Indian Himalaya— Mahalaya and a newer route on Chonghor—have become the foundation for that method. They are not endpoints. They are early tests. Mahalaya: L...