Nov 1, 2011


The motions of eking out a living today, seemed to get belittled by the morning sun peeping out over the Himalayas. It send forth its golden rays right to me across the lake and reassured me that for now I should be ready to give up illusions of influencing a future and the present was all that there ever will be. 

It seemed to mock my lack of courage, my inherent insecurity at being able to survive this terrain and yet there is a comforting warmth that spreads as it dispels the cold around. The water gradually turns from a dull grey to a vivid blue harkening the onset of another new day. 

It always seems easier to write about a place in hindsight, to stitch together pieces from memory and paint a picture of a feeling that lingered a while ago, a shadow of which gets written about. Some of that feeling dissipates and a bit of it gets carried around, a reminder, to one conscious moment of complete gratitude and humility of being alive. Of one moment of experiencing that oneness with the Universe as a tiny speck floating about, contended, and at peace. 

Ladakh was one such experience and more, the spirituality that a place of vast beauty holds is powerful to say the least. But what is even more intriguing is how that peace you carry from here, lends itself in the oddest of moments months and perhaps years later, to hold you together.