Wish I was the Mountain
Forests and mountains are clandestinely mysterious and surreal. No wonder why one is attracted towards those myriad meadows and immaculate whites. A forest can exist without mountain and so does a mountain without a forest. But when that jade carpet envelopes a mountain,the view is spectacular and the existence together becomes a captivating enigma. May be he was a mountain; headstrong, rigid and rising. I have always loved mountains without knowing why . I remember , I was 16 when we were travelling back after a long vacation from a small village called kaithal in ( shimla district) and everyone was sleeping in the car except for the chauffeur and a sobbing me. My eyes were paining and I was crying while gazing the passing by mountains and sutlej. I did not want to go back and was weeping silently because I won’t get to see the mountains now. My childhood was spent in Narag, a small hamlet nestled in district Sirmaur.We used to come to Chandigarh for summer holidays and hated going back to Narag. Because at that times going back to mountains meant going to school. How silly was I, to not realise that childhood in mountains was the best gift. But to my utter disappointment, after the 10 years long stint at Narag, we shifted to Garli – the so called first heritage village of the India.I hated it there. Leaving mountains at that time was not a decision but a decree as Dad’s job was the deciding factor. But leaving that majestic mountain where I was an enchanting forest was my fate . Sometimes I feel, what if I can’t be with the mountain , I will be the mountain. What if I can’t grow old with the mountain, I will grow old like the mountain.
I am sure you will read between the lines and not literally just my words.
Songs this week:https://youtu.be/JivvnCopGlI