Kaivan Mistry

(1968-2000)

It was the summer of 1990 and along with Harish Kapadia I was trekking in the Gangotri region. As the sun was about to go down over the mountains we decided to a stroll on the banks of the Ganges to watch the majestic river cascading down in a waterfall opposite the Gangotri temple. We bumped into a group of Bombayites enthusiastically photographing the waterfall. One amongst them was Kaivan. That’s where we met and Kaivan became a close friend and a long standing member of our group.

Kaivan Mistry was born in Bombay on 17 September 1968. After completing his education he moved on to become one of Bombay’s most respected lighting designers and a name in the theatre circuit. But mountains were his first love. Kaivan was an avid trekker in the Western Ghats and a regularly seen at the rocks around Bombay.

In 1989 Kaivan undertook his first trek to the Himalaya, to the Annapurna Base Camp in Nepal. In 1990 he visited the Gangotri area for a trek to Dodital and then on to Tapovan. Kaivan loved being in the mountains and the happiness of being in the surroundings he loved so much was most visible and explicit on his face at all times on a trek. He underwent his formal training at NIM, Uttarkashi in 1992. In 1993 Kaivan took part in the Kullu – Spiti Lahaul expedition they explored the Ratang valley in great detail and crossed four high passes and climbed Parahio (5920 m). Subsequently he visited Rupi-Sorang valley in Kinnaur another unexplored area of the Himalaya with Harish.

Kaivans first major expedition was the Indo-British Kinnaur expedition in 1994 which was led by Harish Kapadia and Chris Bonington. The expedition made the first ascent of Rangrik Rang and climbed Manirang (6593 m). Kaivan himself made the first ascents of Mangala (5800 m), Saponang (5836 m) and Ghunsarang (5800 m). In 1995 we visited the Tso Moriri region in SE Ladakh. We reached the lake after a few days in Leh and then rode up to the base camp of Chhamser Kangri on horses. Ladakh sun beating down hard, made it difficult to move out in the open in the afternoon. We had to find a variety of methods of cooling ourselves. One afternoon we strolled into the mess tent to find Kaivan sitting with 2 Laukis (Bottlegourd) on his head and one under his shirt. We looked in amazement thinking our Parsi bawa had gone mad. Harish shot off Kaivan ‘gando thai gayo’ (Kaivan has gone mad) only to find out a few minutes later that our ingenious friend had discovered that the Laukis were the coolest thing around and were really helping him keep cool in the extreme heat. A few minutes later all of us raided the kitchen and were all sitting around with the balance Laukis on our heads.

He was a good climber but never over-ambitious about climbing. He enjoyed climbing, slow and steady relishing the views and clicking away with his camera. Whenever we used to push ourselves unnecessarily one tug on the rope and a smiling Kaivan pointed out ‘Su che baba, relax guys enjoy yourself instead’. His smile was always the calming influence and it helped diffuse many a situation. Kaivan along with Harish went on to make the first ascent of Lungser Kangri (6666 m) and also climbed Chhamser Kangri (6622 m) and then trekked across northern Rupshu over 11 passes.

In 1997 we visited the Garhwal region traversing attempting to cross the Panpatia valley into the Madhyamaheshwar valley. In the second part of the trip we crossed the high passes in the Bhagat Kharak and Arwa glaciers. While some of us recceed the route ahead Kaivan made quick ascents of Deo Dekhni I (5400 m) and II (c. 5360 m). Difficult situations rarely unfazed Kaivan. While descending the difficult Shrak la into the Arwa glacier we had to descend a rather steep rock and ice wall next to an avalanche-chute. As the day wore on avalanches of all sizes poured down and one particular almost touched and had us all clinging to the rock face. As it whizzed passed, leaving us coated in a blanket of snow, we looked at each other trembling only to see Kaivan smiling and exclaiming ‘Bachi gaya ave jaldi uthro’ (Saved now lets rush down). He always bust out in Parsi Gujarati.

Kaivan was our handyman on all the trips. The trips many times equipment was damaged, stoves not fuctioning , radio not working or camera is shut. Any problem and out came Kaivan with his repair bag and somehow improvised and always solved the problem. Torn tents were mended with tapes stuck in a funny manner, stoves repaired with whatever was at hand– but finally it all worked.

Kaivan meanwhile became an active part of the team that produced the Himalayan Journal and was responsible for the indexing of the Journal from Vol 49 onwards. In June 1998 he visited the Siachen glacier in the Eastern Karakoram. Kaivan along with the team managed to reach the historic India Saddle and the Turkestan la at the head of this long glacier.

In 2000, Kaivan had injured the ligament on his ankle just a few weeks before he was to leave for the Karakoram. Determined as he was Kaivan exercised and nursed his ankle back to shape and went off on the expedition. This was the Indo-French Expedition to Rimo IV. The team reached the historic Karakoram Pass (5569 m), Col Italia and explored the Central Rimo glacier systems. On 25 September 2000 on the way back while crossing the swollen Shyok river near Gapshan the tragedy struck. Kaivan slipped and fell into the river and lost his life.

The Himalayan Club lost an enthusiastic and promising member and we lost a close friend. Kaivan will live on in our hearts and minds and his spirit still roams the mountains he loved so dearly.

Monesh Devjani

My association with Kaivan goes back over 20 years when we were in school together. My earliest recollection was of him wearing khaki shorts, with his fair freckled face and brown eyes, grimacing when being called to attention by the school prefects before being led off to lunch; my last recollection of him was our having juice and a “Dev Anand” sandwich together behind Bhartiya Vidya Bhavan the night before he left for his fateful expedition.

What can I recount of the years spent with Kaivan, all of which were immensely enjoyable and funny. The masti and dhammal we had with his late Uncle Jimmy; playfully wrestling with him in Goa; the countless weekends we spent with friends in Alibaug, now seems so surreal and needless to say painful.

Kaivan’s friends and associates will no doubt have seen certain facets of his personality depending on the context and setting in which they interacted with him. I despite being a close friend, only recently learnt of his interest in poetry. Kaivan was indeed in many ways a true Renaissance man. An intrepid photographer with interests as diverse as acoustics, lighting, poetry, and alas mountaineering. However, I am sure that all those here who came in contact with Kaivan will bear me out when I claim that the most striking characteristic about him were his human qualities.

Unassuming, genuine and transparent, Kaivan endeared himself to all he came in touch with. Always willing to help, very often at his inconvenience, listening patiently and silently to me during troubled times; I will miss his loyalty and generosity of spirit. I can recount innumerable instances of Kaivan’s qualities of heart. But the one, which serves as an outstanding example, was when his cook who secretly harboured aspirations of becoming a taxi driver took his car out early one Sunday morning only to wrap it around a lamppost. Despite the frustration and anger that Kaivan must have felt at having his Sunday ruined and his car wrecked, his first thought was the welfare of his cook who he personally accompanied to hospital and had treated. The Bombay police, who are not generally given to an open display of appreciation, were quite taken aback and insisted that Kaivan leave the formalities for later and have lunch with them at the police station.

Those of you who know Kaivan’s parents will acknowledge that he was in many ways a reflection of them, a ‘first class’ human being who truly practiced the Zoroastrian credo of “Good Words, Good Thoughts, and Good Deeds”. It therefore seems all the more unjust that fate had ordained such an abrupt end for him. Perhaps it was God’s will that the mountains he loved so much claimed him. Though no more Kaivan will always remain in some way a part of the lives of his close friends. The best tribute I can pay him is to hope to emulate during the course of my life, in however small measure, his nobility of spirit. May his soul rest in peace!

Yatha Jamyiad, Yatha Afrinami. (As I have prayed so shall it be)

Zarir Bharucha