By Syed Shams Uddin
Amid the towering cathedrals of rock and ice that rise where the Karakoram embraces the Himalayas, where the winds are as ancient as the stones and the stars linger close to the earth, dwell souls forged in silence and solitude—guardians of the highlands, tempered by altitude and time. Among these mountain-bred hearts is Wajidullah Nagari, a native of Gilgit-Baltistan, whose quiet yet resolute pursuit of mountaineering excellence is now beginning to echo across the national consciousness.
Hailing from a land where peaks kiss the heavens and valleys echo with tales of ancestral courage, Wajidullah is a product of the mountains—shaped by their ferocity, inspired by their grace. In a recent video that has gone viral on social media, his humble demeanor and heartfelt appeal for support have moved nearly 200,000 viewers. But his journey to this moment has been long and arduous, etched not only in sweat and struggle, but also in a fierce love for his homeland and its soaring summits.
With modest resources and monumental determination, Wajidullah has already scaled three of the most fearsome peaks on Earth: Nanga Parbat, the ninth-highest mountain in the world, infamous as the “Killer Mountain”; Rakaposhi, a majestic sentinel rising above the Hunza–Nagar Valley, often cloaked in cascading avalanches; and Broad Peak, a giant of the Karakoram and the twelfth-highest mountain on the planet. These ascents are not merely feats of physical prowess—they are profound tests of endurance, character, and mental fortitude. They are battles waged against thin air, freezing storms, and the ever-present threat of death.
Yet, Wajidullah climbed not for acclaim or accolades, but out of an unrelenting desire to reach where few dare tread. His triumphs, accomplished with little financial backing or institutional support, are emblematic of the quiet excellence so often hidden in the northern folds of Pakistan—a land rich in talent, but impoverished in opportunity.
Today, Wajidullah’s gaze is set on the greatest of them all: Mount Everest, the pinnacle of mountaineering dreams, the roof of the world. However, the climb to Everest is as financially steep as it is physically daunting. Permits, equipment, logistics, and a support crew demand a fortune—a fortune far beyond the reach of an ordinary young man from Gilgit-Baltistan. And so, like many of his gifted peers, he stands at the base of possibility, looking up, waiting—not for a miracle, but for a helping hand.
In the now-viral video, Wajidullah shares a deeply moving anecdote: one viewer sent him just Rs. 200. A small sum by any standard, yet one that carried the immense weight of belief and solidarity. With eyes glistening and voice steady, he expressed how even such modest contributions, if pooled collectively by his fellow countrymen, could liberate him from the need to seek foreign sponsorship. In that moment, he became not just a climber, but a symbol of resilience and hope—a beacon for the many unsung athletes who long only for recognition and opportunity.
His story draws inevitable comparisons to the late Muhammad Ali Sadpara, Pakistan’s most revered mountaineer, who perished heroically on K2, the world’s second-highest and most lethal peak, during a daring winter expedition. Sadpara, too, had climbed without adequate sponsorship for much of his life, embodying the stoic courage of a people whose dreams outpace their means. Only after his tragic disappearance did the nation awaken to the magnitude of his greatness.
Renowned journalist and poet Wali Nagri immortalized Sadpara in verse, describing how he “hugged heroically the awfully majestic K2” with “an unconquerable will.” The tribute painted a portrait not just of a man, but of a generation—climbers who surrender themselves to the mountains not for glory, but for love, not for gold, but for purpose.
Wajidullah Nagari is a living extension of this legacy. He represents the spirit of a region whose sons and daughters are born with ice in their lungs and steel in their veins. His story is a mirror reflecting a deeper truth: that Gilgit-Baltistan, while remote and rugged, is a cradle of unmatched mountaineering talent waiting to be nurtured, acknowledged, and celebrated.
This is not a call for charity—it is a summons to national duty. If a nation can adorn itself with the medals of sports played in fields and stadiums, surely it can also raise a standard for those who play their lives on ridgelines and glaciers. Let us not wait for another tragedy to recognize the worth of a climber whose dreams, if fulfilled, could plant our flag atop the world.
Wajidullah stands ready—heart ablaze, will unwavering, flag in hand. All he needs is for his people to believe.
May that belief come not too late. May that hand be ours.
A window to Northern Areas-I, The Muslim dated July 4, 1997. By Syed Shamsuddin Most of our people even today seem quite oblivious of the geo-political position of Northern Areas while the exact historical background concerning Gilgit-Baltistan and where these must stand politically remains yet another subject of discussion. Not to speak of a layman, a person of the stature of Chief Executive of the country, once inquired whether the Northern Areas an integral part of the north west frontier province (NWFP). This happened when he rule the country in the aftermath of martial law. Yet another minister on Kashmir and Northern Areas, during the democratic government that followed, was pleased to tell a member of the northern areas council that he owed his minisitership not to them (Northern Areas people) but to the turbaned man of his constituency, standing at the door of his official chambers. There is infact, dearth of substantial historical evidence as to when exactly man ...
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