In Uttarakhand’s hills, where legends grow,

Lies Kedarkantha, wrapped in snow.

Starting from Sankri’s quiet start,

The trek reveals nature’s heart.

Through pine forests, winding deep,

Stories of Shiva, in silence, keep.

At Juda-ka-Talab, calm and clear,

A lake born of hair—a tale held dear.

Shiva found peace in the mountain air,

Till a bull disturbed him there.

Off he went to Kedarnath’s height,

Leaving stories in morning light.

At twelve thousand feet, under skies so wide,

A shrine awaits on the mountainside.

With Trishul planted firm in snow,

Locals come with reverence to show.

The Pandavas sought blessings here,

But Shiva, disguised, stayed near.

Bheem chased him down; parts fell away,

Creating Kedarkantha, where legends stay.

Swargarohini shines, heaven-bound,

Bandarpoonch and Black Peak around.

In winter’s cloak, the world stands still,

A wonderland for heart and will.

So walk with care on this ancient Kedarkantha Trek,

For Kedarkantha calls—no looking back.

I was 35, feeling the pull of the mountains, so I set out for Kedarkantha in the heart of Uttarakhand. Starting at Sankri, I found myself surrounded by snow-draped peaks and ancient forests, each step echoing with local lore. The pine trails were more than just scenic paths—they were alive with stories of Shiva and whispered myths, and at Juda-ka-Talab, the stillness of the lake held its own mystery, said to have formed from a strand of Shiva’s hair. The legend goes that Shiva himself meditated here, though disturbed by a bull, he retreated to Kedarnath, leaving behind tales in the snow.

As I climbed higher, reaching nearly twelve thousand feet, the summit opened up in a way I’ll never forget. Beneath an open sky, I found a small stone shrine with a Trishul planted in the snow—a place where locals come to honor the spirit of the mountain. The Pandavas, too, had once sought Shiva’s blessing here, though he appeared in disguise. I could almost picture Bheem chasing him through the peaks, pieces of the legend falling into place.

At the summit, surrounded by Swargarohini, Bandarpoonch, and Black Peak, I felt both humbled and alive. In winter, Kedarkantha transforms into a wonderland; every ridge and rock seems to carry a story. It’s a journey that leaves you with more than memories. It’s as if the mountain itself stays with you, calling you back.