Oct 3, 2005

A Walk in the Clouds


There is wilderness, nothing but engulfing darkness when I look around, two looming hills in the east and west and a deep engulfing valley in the south. That is the Nagarhole campsite for you. Behind me there is a raging campfire, fueled by wood, kerosene and more importantly wanton shots of alcohol and the enthusiasm of the drunk and the sane alike.

As I walk away I am engulfed more and more into the darkness and become whole with nature. It’s easier thereafter to detach oneself and look on a bunch of people belting out the evergreen songs echoing deep into the night …piya tu ab to aaja…of love and betrayal, of friendship and family, of life and death… sama hai suhana suhana, nashe me jahan hai... a bunch of people hung over paper cups of Royal Challenge and cards…yeh dosti hun nahi chodenge…a pair of lonely eyes staring away into the darkness… Yaari hain iman mera… three people engrossed in revelry and missing their other halves…bahon me chale aao

I take in the silence and the distant noises, i make peace and I walk back to the campers each dealing with the pains developed over the steep climb of the hill in the morning. The same songs are sung as was atop the hill, with clouds floating engulfing you, the valley spreading below, the breathtaking forms that nature carves out of rocks and the curious shapes constantly changing and reshaped by the clouds wandering by. The descent, the slipping, sliding and tumbling down would give any Jack and Jill rhyme adequate competition. The appetizing smell of freshly cooked rice and sambar gave so much meaning to the morning toils.

The cleansing at the waterfall, the soaking shivering selves and the tired trek back to the camp rounding up the day of activity. Now it was time to pop open the bottles, light up a fire and sit back and listen to the sounds of the jungle below and add some of our own… jindagi yeh safar hai suhana…

It’s been a long day, trips such as these not only teach you humility in the face of nature and its magnificence but also the need to just let go and feel, instead of rationalizing. The next day we trekked onto another point in the wake of dawn, the beauty never fails to hit me anew each time, the sun rising behind the hills, the spreading of the yellow in the grey sky and the colours it renders to the mountains. Life is calling…

2 comments:

Vasu said...

Here I am thinking about what to write to describe the same having been a part of this trekk. Aditi amazingly written (As Goli's puts it Very Very Good :-)...)

golliwog said...

very vivid...
but definitely melancholy!
what happened to the indomitable spirit of the woosters??

you have to forgive that one... have been high on jeeves lately. just cant get enough of that stuff...