In those serene yet desolate mountains, faced with biting cold, prowling wild animals, crippling hunger, and overwhelming isolation, Om Swami tested the limits of his mind and body. Struggling to sit in sadhana for hours, he oscillated between moments of transcendent joy and crushing despair. What spiritual practices did he adopt? How did he keep the 'spark' of sadhana alive? Were the rituals enough to reach the Divine, or did doubt and fear creep in, even for one so wise?