Internship Tales – Week 1: Plains to mountains 😀
I was fortunate to pursue my master’s at a reputed college in Mumbai. As part of the curriculum, we were supposed to do a compulsory summer internship at the end of our first year. An opportunity designed to give us real-world exposure and a chance to apply what we had learned in classrooms. In fact, it was common for companies to absorb well-performing interns into permanent positions as well. So for many, this internship wasn’t just a requirement—it was a jackpot.
Thus, the most awaited internship season arrived.
Naturally, most of my classmates did the most sensible thing—choosing their dream companies or nearby MNCs, stepping into structured roles with predictable routines… and of course with a modest stipend too.
Meanwhile, my roommate and I—armed with startup dreams and very little interest in joining such firms—decided to ignore all good advice. Without fully thinking it through, we went looking for an opportunity where we could enjoy the summer and somehow meet the academic requirements…
So instead of choosing a company, we chose a place...
Leh—the most beautiful high-altitude cold desert in the Himalayas. There we found an NGO that seemed like the perfect fit.
For two people coming from low-altitude tropical plains of Keralam, what could possibly go wrong? As we would soon learn… not exactly the best choice.
It was the tail end of summer, and flights to Leh had only just resumed. How we managed to book those tickets and actually reach our new office is a story in itself—one that deserves its own episode.
But this story? It begins right after we arrived…
Our internship was for 40 days which meant about 5 weekends—and of course we had every single week perfectly planned in an Excel sheet.
Week one? Just a day after we arrived, we decided to start with something ‘simple’—a two-day trek into the eastern part of Hemis National Park. Two of our new colleagues, locals from the nearby village of Phyang, agreed to join us. That night, we were way too excited for the trip ahead… That itself should have been the first warning.😎
After breakfast, we said our newly learned *‘Julley!’ to the home-stay owner and started the journey in our colleague’s pickup van.” (*a magical Ladakhi word that means everything from hello to thank you)
We were traveling along NH 1D toward Hemis—the views were absolutely stunning and, at the same time, terrifying.
Imagine narrow mountain roads, random stones falling from above, and shattered windshield debris everywhere—no guardrails, just you and a direct drop to enlightenment. But our skilled Ladakhi colleagues handled it like pros, casually dodging a few—straight out of a Hollywood movie.
Slowly, proper roads disappeared.
Then network disappeared.
Then… the signs of humans...
It was just us, our car, and our confidence—but that also quickly disappeared when we realized both of our Ladakhi friends were just as clueless about the place as we were.
Doesn’t it feel like a perfect adventure? No not yet...👽
After some time, we reached the foothills of a mountain with a stream nearby. We decided not to drive any further and camp there.
We parked the car, grabbed our camping gear, and started trekking uphill toward the stream at sight.
Just 30 minutes later… The reality hit. I started feeling dizzy… then started puking.
My friend? His nose started bleeding. Yes. We were thriving. Turns out, at that altitude, our bodies had officially resigned.
Somewhere between vomiting and questioning our life choices, we remembered a small detail our home-stay owner had mentioned earlier—in half English and Ladakhi:
“Tourist sickness.”
Of course, being highly intelligent individuals, we ignored it—because we weren’t tourists. We were interns who came to work... professionals, yes! we confidently ignored it.
Long story short, two 'mallus' from the coastal plains rushing into high altitude without acclimatization was a perfect recipe for disaster.
We somehow dragged ourselves back to the car, got rushed to Leh hospital, and ended up admitted. That’s when the doctor, trying not to laugh, explained that we had altitude sickness and were supposed to acclimatize before attempting something similar.
Ah, good to know—slightly late, but useful.
After a very ‘eventful’ weekend huffing oxygen and negotiating with our dignity. Luckily, only our two colleagues knew the truth—and we made them promise to keep it classified. Next morning the 1st day at office we walked in as if nothing had happened—confident, composed, and professional.
Within seconds, laughter erupted from one corner. That’s when we realized our ‘hospital camping trip’ had already become an office folklore.
Apparently, the ‘secret’ was very much out.
Julley!!! 😄
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