Up in these high passes, we see the Indus born from the glaciers of Kailash—snowmelt is its lifeblood. But the obvious answer misses the truth I see: the real source is the winter snowfall, and that's growing thin. I guide trekkers past streams that are just whispers now, where they roared when my father led the way. The glacier's tongue has pulled back farther than my own memories.
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