हिमाचल- a timeless tale
The mountains cradle the lake in its lap and the shimmering lake laughs at the mid of day like a toothless toddler walking around,playing with the sun rays like its favorite toy. I look from the balcony of my pale white house, wondering if I can ever walk on water. Somedays I wish to drown in it, and taste the flavor of life closely. My therapist says living is the deepest reflex ingrained in our mind. Touch fire and your hand moves away swiftly. Drown and you start flapping your hands wildly. Somedays i think that this lake and the view that enfolds and reveals itself like God reading his beloved letter, wants to tell me something. On most days i don’t pay much attention but today I feel a wave of happiness running inside these narrow alleys of my veins. I can almost feel the zephyr on my face as if the lake is kissing me and telling me how it is always going to be there, thousand years from now, carrying the stories of people like me, to the people of future, to someone who will dip her feet inside the cold satluj water and feel my remaining memories gracing her in a wave of nostalgia. Maybe we all are breathing someone else’s breaths, living off somebody’s favourite memories. These mountains and these clouds,the skies that burn on somedays and turn into rose petals the other, after all are God’s way of conversing. It is funny,just how yesterday I hated God and today I can’t keep myself from thanking him. Having been born in Himachal is graceful, like lovers making love in a field of sunflowers,laughing,whispering,kissing each other. Maybe i was amongst the chosen ones to witness God from close. I see it everyday I step in my balcony and look at the silent lake, like a rebellious girl who keeps waiting for the day she let’s out loud, her wild laughter. These mountains with curvaceous roads tell me stories of life and death alike and I can’t seem to hate any aspect of it. These valleys echo out loud the voice of the clouds, the thunders and all we can do is shudder with fear just like the windows of my home do. Maybe Himachal is the only home I can ever find myself coming back to even after years. Himachal is delicate memory which needs gentleness to reveal itself.
Featured Human: Bharti Bansal
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