He, the greatest of them all, grunted in apprehension.
There was an aura about him matched by none. He was not the eldest, but they
all went quiet when he spoke, for he was the greatest of the siblings.
No, there was no doubt regarding the superiority of
Mount Everest.
Of course, there was a group of left-wingers who swore
by Mauna Kea, but they were generally dismissed, more so after Hillary and
Norgay had immortalized Everest.
Godwin-Austen never had that glamour. Worse, they
referred to him as K2, merely one of two peaks marked by Thomas Montgomerie. As
is often the case, Montgomerie had referred to the other peak as K1.
When they found out that K1 had a name (Masherbrum) they
stuck to it, but K2 never had an indigenous name. He was named after a man with
a double-barrelled surname, something K2 was never happy about.
K2 wanted to become the tallest. Had that wretched
Everest not been there, or even he had lost a couple of hundreds of metres
worth of snow caps (which did not seem likely), K2 would have snatched the
glory. Unfortunately, that was not to be.
Kanchenjunga was perfectly fine with the situation. The
girl was happy with the third place. She knew her X-factor lay in her exquisite
beauty, and not her height. While they associated Everest with rigour,
Kanchenjunga has forever been synonymous to beauty and glamour.
K2, on the other hand, reminded nobody of anything. K2’s
life was full of an infinite flow of nothingness. People never acknowledged his
existence. Even Kilimanjaro or Matterhorn or Elbrus or Aconcagua was more
famous.
No, something had to be done. This was getting out of
hand. This was really getting out of hand.
K2 cleared his throat. Everest, as proud as a peacock,
looked at him with disdain, but K2 did not bother: “Brothers and sisters…”
“Dude, we don’t have all day. Cut to the point. God isn’t
going to hang around all day.”
“Fine, but I get to place the first prayer. I had
lodged a request ages back before anyone else had logged in.”
Everest was feeling annoyed. These summit meetings
(Everest laughed at his pathetic pun) with God typically involved some lowly
peak whining about lack of snow or too many people. There was once a delegation
from Antarctica. The volcanic mountains kept complaining of stomach pain. Popocatepetl
had insisted on a more user-friendly name.
But K2 looked like he meant business. Must be the
sort of stuff losers crave for; maybe another two hundred metres or something.
This God dude has never entertained those height-enhancing requests.
“Lord Almighty, I ask of thee…”
Everest was bored, more bored than he ever was of
thousands of years worth of retaining the title. The title came with glory;
this was going to be sheer torture.
“Dude, K2, come to the point. Shakespeare was dead
long ago.”
K2 frowned. Everest might be the coolest, but the
world could do with niceties, he thought, as Kanchenjunga looked at a
mirror. She had to be at her gorgeous best. They had predicted a cloudless
morning. Even Mauna Kea had a peak peek from his massive bathtub.
Fine, I will come to the point.
“Dear Lord, I, am tired of being bullied by Everest. Why
should the world judge us only on height? Why should that be the only parameter
while deciding the champion?”
God was confused. What on earth was going on?
“I feel I am at par with Everest in every other
aspect, if not better,” K2 droned on. “I can take him on in any other contest. In
fact, I want to challenge him right away.”
Nobody looked bored anymore. Everyone, including
Kanchenjunga, had their eyes on the second-highest peak on the third planet of
the solar system.
“I want to challenge Everest in a contest where height
will not be a parameter. Take altitude out of the equation. Take this one
advantage away. I can assure you that he won’t stand a chance.”
God felt awkward. Everest was his favourite, for sure.
He had backed Everest for millennia without protest of any kind from anyone. K2
had never looked happy, but the donkey’s back had probably snapped this time.
“What exactly are you talking about, K2?” God sounded
curious.
“It’s simple, provided you want to listen carefully. I
simply want another parameter in which I could be pitted against Everest. You
cannot declare him winner just like that, year after year, just because he is
taller.”
“What do you propose?” boomed the voice of Everest.
K2 turned towards Everest. The effort pushed a glacier
by about a micrometre. “Let us explore the plains, Everest. Let The Almighty reduce
our heights to nothingness.”
“Start from ground zero, eh?”
K2 ignored the obnoxious pun. “If you have the guts…”
“I have already won it, you know, dude. They’ve already
named a brand of spice after me. Are you aware of all this?” Everest smirked.
K2 looked furious. “You can get away with the branding
gimmick, Everest, but when it comes to substance you do not stand a chance.”
“Are you willing to take the challenge, Everest?” God
interrupted. He had to address Nanga Parbat’s request of a change of name. A disgruntled
Makalu II wanted an identity of his own. The Pyramids wanted a quota in these
summit meetings. And so on.
“Of course. I want to teach Kate a lesson.”
K2 turned red, almost Vesuvius-red: he hated being
called K2. It must be that Kanchenjunga, who knew this, who always took Everest’s
side…
“Fine. I give you two twenty-five years each on the
plains. I will level both of you to ground-level. You will have to start from
scratch. Do you have a parameter in mind?”
“Let Kate choose,” Everest guffawed.
Nanda Devi interrupted as one of K2’s lesser peaks
exploded, sending little hillocks scurrying for cover as snowflakes fell on
them.
“What about the people?”
“What about them?” God echoed.
“I mean, the world will take notice if two major peaks
vanish overnight, won’t they?”
“You have a point, as always. I guess I will have to
create three-dimensional photocopies to replace them for a quarter of a
century. They will be destroyed automatically.”
***
Summit. 2016 AD.
The Pyramids had had their say, which had not gone
down well with The Sphinx and the temple of Angkor Vat. Makalu II and Popocatepetl
had kept on appealing, but in vain. Most things remained the same.
They all waited with bated breath. Everest looked as
regal as ever. K2 was grumpy yet defiant. Fuji burped lava and went quiet. Kilimanjaro
mentioned something about trekking routes for no reason.
“Well?”
K2 stood still, his magnificent head nodding in
acknowledgement, even appreciation, as his face curled into a wry smile. “I
concede.”
That is it?
“Yes. I concede. I tried my best, but I was simply not
good enough. I agree that Big E here is the best.”
That is it?
There was a general murmur across the enormous hallway.
“Tell us about it! We don’t know anything! We have been standing here for twenty-five
years while you were having all the fun! This is not fair!”
K2 sighed. Living it was bad enough. Having to re-live
it was exactly the kind of thing he did not need…
“Fine,” he sighed. “We went to Calcutta. They changed
the name to Kolkata somewhere down the track, but that did not matter. We tried
a lot of things, but he came out on top every single time.”
Even God paused now.
“Then we decided to pick something and call it the
decider. In other words, whoever would win that final battle would seal the
tie. But he won again…”
Even Nanda Devi was curious now. “What did you do?
What was the decider about?”
Everest responded. “Since K2 has been gracious in
defeat, I guess it is my turn as well. Though I kept winning, I think he came a
very close second every time, and pushed me to remain at my toes all along. I
had to be at my absolute best day in and day out. He gave me a fight as tough
as I could ever imagine.”
K2 smiled. “Well, I tried. Especially on the last
occasion.”
Everest acknowledged. “Yes. In that final encounter,
the battle to end all battles, there were moments I thought you would run away
with the title. But I kept edging past you, just about managing to keep my nose
ahead…”
“But I never won…”
“I know,” God interrupted. He had no plan to let this
go on for an eternity. “I hereby announce Everest aka Arsalan the champion, albeit
a decimal point ahead of K2 aka India Restaurant…”
