At the stroke of midnight as Leh lulled to sleep, the four of us were readying ourselves for our tryst with destiny. All geared up with gaiters, snow boots, harness and crampons ready for the climb, we were awaiting the final call for summit from our Trek leader, Nitesh. It was windy since couple of days and the rain god was smiling blissfully at the Stok mountains. During the day the azure sky was filled with fluffy clouds which occasionally were nudged by the playful wind to give a glimpse of the snow-clad mountains. It seemed as if a game of hide-n-seek was in play. The bright red, yellow and blue tents spread across the base camp looked like a necklace embedded with precious jewels was adoring the neck of the alpines. All these looks celestial but its not a good weather for the summit. If it continues raining, the summit would be aborted. Here in my tent, listening to the pitter patter of the rain and the hustling sound of the cool breeze, I am wondering what was in s