The final WhatsApp message
Sudipto Bhattacharya received one last set of texts from his wife, Subhrasree Chakraborty, on the morning of 26 August. At 7:57 a.m. she sent a photo of a passport stamp confirming her clearance from Nepal’s immigration authorities. Six minutes later, at 8:03 a.m., the message simply read, "We are waiting to enter China", before any further contact disappeared.
Subhrasree had just crossed into the Chinese side of the border, walking from Nepal’s immigration portal to the Chinese facility in Gyirong. It was the culmination of a lifelong pilgrimage dream to reach Mount Kailash, the sacred mountain of Hindus.
The flash floods that struck the Nepalese border with Tibet on 27 and 28 August were the most devastating in the region’s recent history. The Himalayan communities were devastated by sudden deluges with an estimated death toll rising to 475 and over 290 Indians officially reported missing.
The majority of those missing were traveling for the same pilgrimage, which resumed only last year after the pandemic and geo‑political tensions between India and China had previously halted the trek. Subhrasree was part of a group of about 30 people, all senior‑level professionals; she was admired for her CPR skills and dedication to critical care, an asset she hoped would help her on her journey.
Her husband, a government officer, has been unable to reach her or any member of the group after the floods. He has called the tour operator and the managers accompanying the pilgrims, but received no answers. Despite repeated calls, his only knowledge of what happened came from the last message and the news of the floods.
Another pilgrim, 54‑year‑old Rina Banerjee, also disappeared during the same trek. She had been traveling alone with a tour operator and had cleared Nepal’s immigration just before the disaster. Like Subhrasree, she left no further contact with her family and is now listed on the official Nepal missing persons list.
Both women had felt the thrill of the mountain before, had travelled through the hills, and had a strong sense of wanderlust. They were believed to have crossed into China before the inundation, but their truck or border crossing points remain unconfirmed. Their families still wonder if the tragedies occurred on the Nepal side or on the Chinese side of the border.
The disaster has left the families, officials, and the international community grappling with an unanswered question: did the pilgrims make it across the border? The answer remains elusive, and countless prayers are still waiting for a resolution as authorities search the flood‑ridden Himalayan plateau for signs of survivors.
