One glorious minute on top of the world: Here's how this Mumbai fitness trainer survived the climb to one of the world’s highest mountains

Robin Behl at the summit

Wobbie, don't die," Robin Behl, 28, recalls hearing, moments after he felt certain he was going to die. It was towards the close of the 72 hours that he had to complete his summit of one of the world's highest mountains, Nepal's Mount Manaslu, that he recalls blacking out. "I don't remember anything. I could hear my heart pounding, and was begging my Sherpa to increase my oxygen flow. He refused, and I begged him again. I was suffocating, and remember thinking I was certainly going to die."

The words of a nine-year-old girl continued to ring in his ears as he drifted in and out of consciousness. "Wobbie, don't die," the "love of his life" - his mentor's daughter - had told him when she heard from her mother that Behl was set to participate in one of the toughest climbs in the world in September. Mount Manaslu takes adventure-seeking climbers to a height of 8,163 metres above sea level, an elevation that, Behl says, is referred to as the death zone. "Human beings are not designed to survive above 8,000 metres," says Behl, "In every moment that you spend there, your [health] depreciates. This is also why this summit is referred to as the fourth toughest one in the world. There are steep vertical climbs involved; one wrong step could mean the end of you. In certain sections, you can't see or hear anything around you, and you're constantly in a state of fight or flight."

Mount Manaslu is also known as "Killer Mountain" because of its altitude and the sheer vertical climb that have proved fatal to many a climber

As someone who has spent several years whipping himself, as well as Bollywood actors - including Kriti Sanon and Adarsh Gourav - into shape at his Juhu studio, Behl is no stranger to putting his athletic prowess to the test. "I've lived as a monk at the Shaolin Temple [in China], and have trained in Muay Thai in Thailand. I am a professional diver and surfer," he summarises. It was at the age of 19 that he participated in the Everest Base Camp trek, and subsequently took on tougher challenges like the Kang Yatse 1 and 2 peaks in Ladakh, which took him 6,000 metres above sea level.

But climbing is an expensive hobby - an attempt at summiting Manaslu would cost R20 lakh. "Nobody was willing to invest in me because I hadn't conquered this height before. It was one of my clients who was moved by my passion and partially sponsored me," recalls Behl.

Then, months away from the big day, he contracted COVID-19 and chikungunya simultaneously. "[It was] one of the shi''''st things that can happen to a human being", he recalls, adding that he had contemplated withdrawing from the climb, but managed to recover just in time.

Behl made it to the base camp, but his trials had only just begun. As fate would have it, weather conditions didn't permit Behl and his fellow climbers to avail the stipulated seven days allotted for the final climb. "The forecast screamed it was a suicide mission. We had only 72 hours for the final summit, so we didn't have the chance to climb to camp four. We had to directly head for the final push," he says.

"I wasn't a religious guy, but now, I am." says Behl, as he recounts one of the toughest experiences of his life. "At one point, I needed supplemental oxygen, but my Sherpa encouraged me to push further before I was put on it, because once the intake is upped, you can't decrease it," he adds.

As they progressed, things got worse. "At one point, I couldn't [comprehend] what was happening around me. Then, my Sherpa said ‘You're almost there', and I remember suddenly feeling awake again," narrates the fitness trainer, "For the first time, I could see the summit ahead. I realised how close I was to my dream."

The 72-hour climb culminated in one shining moment at the peak that was over all too soon. "Do you know how long I got to spend there? Only one minute," he shares, "During treks like these, multiple climbers use one rope to climb in a line. If I stopped, the 200 people below me would have to stop too."

Short as it was, the moment is imprinted in his mind forever. "I was really on the top of the world. I can't describe that feeling. It was a beautiful one minute," he shares.

They still had to make their way back down, though, and bad weather didn't leave them much time to do it. "It's very easy to lose consciousness because you're surviving on such little oxygen and food. I was completely depleted and began to hallucinate. I could see my mother, telling me to do my homework," recalls Behl, "I was so dizzy that I began to fall on every fourth step... The out-of-body experience was the worst - I could see my body walking before me as I said, ‘You go ahead, I'm coming'. Till today, I don't know if I actually said that, or if I was hallucinating."

There was one sobering moment when Behl saw a climber in dire need of oxygen: "My Sherpa said that if we tried to help him, our lives would be at risk too. I don't know if that man died or not. I hope he didn't."

Behl needed medical attention upon his return to Base Camp, but had his feat recorded in The Himalayan Times after his 17-hour descent. "It was the best moment of my life."