Claw and order

What does it mean to not have to rely too heavily on winter wear in Ladakh? In an unseasonably warm March, Rohini Nilekani tracks lynxes, blue sheep and big cats as they climb higher into the mountains - and seeks, hopes for and finds the Shaan or ghost of the mountains, the famously elusive snow leopard

- Rohini Nilekani

I had packed vests, gloves and socks. Trapper hat, puffer jacket and thermals. I had packed for the harshest winter Ladakh might spring on me in March, which is typically one of the coldest months of the year — and one of the best times to catch the ghost of the mountains, the Shaan or snow leopard, the main attraction in my journey to the top of the world.

As it turned out, I could have packed lighter. “In my lifetime, I have not seen a March as warm as this,” said Tsering Dolker, 62, sitting in a sunny courtyard in Leh, guiding younger colleagues as they wove a woollen rug.

Dolker recently moved here from her village in Changthang, at an altitude of about 5,000 metres. There, herders graze goats and sheep who yield the world’s finest wools (pashmina, yes; but a range of other varieties too), which are then taken to Kashmir and beyond, and fashioned into the most coveted shawls and rugs. Dolker now earns a living adding value to the wool in Ladakh instead, as entrepreneurs proudly reassert the weaves of the region.

Unlike Dolker, the snow leopards, wolves and blue sheep are moving in the opposite direction, higher up the mountains, as the weather becomes unseasonably warm.

There is less snow, and more rain, in this high-altitude desert region now, wreaking havoc on mud houses intelligently designed for a different and stable weather pattern. People and animals alike are dealing with landslides, floods and water scarcity.