Lupra: The Mountain Holds Its Breath

I didn’t plan to find Lupra. It appeared like a whisper off the trail from a meeting with new friends as a small dot on the map, a name I'd barely heard. But something in me turned toward it, and I followed. After days of trekking through the stark beauty of Mustang, with the winds still roaring behind me from Muktinath, I descended into a valley carved by river and time.

Lupra is one of the last remaining Bon villages in Nepal, a quiet cradle of ancient Tibetan spirituality that predates Buddhism. The houses flat-roofed, sun-bleached, stoic hug the edge of the river, built dangerously close, as if daring the floods that crash down from the mountains each monsoon season. Life here balances on faith and fragility.

But the most powerful moment came when I climbed toward the cave.

High above the village, tucked into the face of the rock like a secret, is a meditation cave that has been used for centuries. I entered, the air was cool and still. A single butter lamp flickered in the corner. I sat, closed my eyes, and let the silence swallow me. It wasn’t absence it was presence. Thick, ancient, and alive.

I imagined the Bon monks who had come here before me probably 800 years of prayers whispered into this stone. I wasn’t just a visitor. I was stepping into the echo of something sacred.

Later, I wandered into the old Bon monastery, its walls adorned with faded thangka paintings and the scent of incense thick in the air. A monk passed me slowly, nodding, saying nothing. That was enough. Bon is a quiet faith rooted in earth, elements, and unseen forces. And in Lupra, it feels like the whole village breathes in that rhythm.

There are no crowds here. No noise. Just wind, water, and a people who have stayed rooted despite the river’s threats, despite the world forgetting them.

Lupra didn’t just offer me a glimpse into an ancient tradition it offered me a mirror. A moment of stillness after movement. A cave after the climb. A reminder that even in the most remote corners of the Himalayas, spirit waits for those willing to listen