It is like death. We know it is coming, it is inescapable. But we do not know when, where and how. We have to live with the unpredictability of this certainty. Life is what you make of it as you wait for death, argued poet Pradip Choudhuri in his Bengali essay, Kobita Dharmo (Poetry Dharma). The case with the Himalayas is: What do we make of our knowledge that a massive disaster is impending, without having any idea of when and where?