A crack in monotonous days

Only a couple of days have passed after I along with my roommate and few other friends gathered in chilly evening at Som’s room and discussed how mundane our days are passing. Going to college, coming back, cooking meals and retiring to bed was all that we were doing. Since it was in the midst of a long stretch of holidays, Som promptly suggested that we venture out on a trip that very night. Everyone agreed in excitement and planned the logistics. My roommate has a car and after arranging for two more bikes, eight of us ventured out at midnight to a place called Mussoori, which is 50 kms from the place of our stay. It’s a very popular hill-station which has been conferred with Queen of the Hills. The road to the hill top maneuvers through thick forest with numerous curves and bends.

I wore the toughest from my closet that can withstand the pre-wintery cold. We started the journey with me being in the car and others on the bikes and car equally with soulful songs played in the background to subside the hearts beating high on adrenaline. After having travelled through the city, I volunteered to ride one of the bikes, and I say this with immense happiness that it was the best ride of my life here in Dehradun. The cold wind slapped me with its icy hands as I maneuvered the bike through the curves and bends of the road. I felt elated and alive. How I wished the journey never ended but before I knew we had reached the hill top. We parked our vehicles and ascended to the peak of the hill on foot which was strenuous in the thin air. But we walked in the dense of the night taking photographs of ourselves in the light of street lamps. The little city of Mussoori perched on the hills was silent and tranquil with only street dogs giving out soft howls.

After half an hour or so of trekking uphill we reached the peak which locally is called as the Gun-hill point. The view from this point was splendidly picturesque that we couldn’t stop ourselves from taking photographs. The city below spread in the slope was illuminated by lights which looked as though the night sky adorned with twinkling stars had fallen on this hill to form a breathtaking picturesque as a treat and delight to our longing eyes. And in the far end, the city of Dehradun radiated itself in mystery; unfathomable to a busy man.

All the hard work of ascending to this point was to, at the break of the dawn, watch the sun rise. But we had ample of time before the sun rose so what followed was a photo session in myriad of pose and posture. Jokes were cracked and humorous one lined insults passed which prompted in hysterical laughs with no alien to hear but the cold air. After an hour long wait the sun finally rose spreading its virgin rays on the peaks of the silhouetted mountains. It rose from the mountain like a vast golden ball all by himself in the sky determined to retire in the west.

By this time the locals; particularly the early risers had filled the paths and roads: some jogged, while some walked their dogs and others were students going to school. The tea vendors were I street and after drinking a cup of hot tea each, we returned back; to live the same mundane and monotonous life.  

The Dawn

The clouds darkened

And the sky roared.

Lightening struck

And rain pattered, hard.

Wind gushed and leaves fell.

But in minutes it subsided

The rain, the darkness and my sleep.

The business-lady

I was attending Forest Business Management class one hot afternoon and the professor was talking about entrepreneurship. Since the class was right after lunch and it was hot and dry, most students were dozing off. Their eyes were burdened by sleepiness and I was no exception for I had almost dozed off while taking notes. So the professor clapped his hands loud and to arouse interest and diffuse out the sleepy air he ventured to tell us an amusing incident he encountered which could more or less could be said to of an entrepreneurial type.

So it goes out that in the midst of city of Mumbai, just outside a Hindu temple which is flooded by clamoring crowd of devotees, a cow stands in the shed of a papal tree. Now the devotees being Hindus who worship cows, they feed this cow in the pursuit of gaining spiritual merit. So the cow stands there the whole day while being fed by thousands of devotees and goes to sleep in the evening, happy and bellyful. Intelligent cow, right? But the interesting thing here is, it is very inconvenient for the devotees to carry grass and fodder to the temple just to feed this cow, so seeing a potential business opportunity a lady has opened a fodder shop. So devotees just buy fodder from this lady and feed the cow. Interesting right? Not yet!!!! The most interesting part is that this lady actually owns the cow and milks it every evening, earning money from everything that she does. This lady is putting all businessmen and entrepreneur to shame.

All that ensued was claps after the professor narrated this incident, but to this day I wonder who was being clapped in appreciation, the professor who narrated us this story or the lady who raised the business benchmark by folds.

The Face

The soforific summer has decided to take leave for the year. It has started withdrawing its presence in all forms from nature. The intense scorching summer heat has subsided and instead colder winds blow from the north. The leaves have started fading its natural gold. The mornings are moist with cold crisp air that seems to cajole you back to the bed. The mirrors are fogged while I stand at its front in my bathroom. As I look into the mirror, a solemn, forlorn and forsaken face glares at me as though to say I haven’t been on good tracks for long. I try to smile but what I see on the mirror is just stretched lips with it saying me “Go, you darn thing. Live your servitude life.” I take a palm full of water and haul at it. The mirror is flushed and the water descends down to the base of the mirror but the face with deliberately stretched lips stays. It moves while I move. Its eyes are sullen, buried deep in the skull. Eyes shadowed and bounded by darkened skin. The cheekbones protruded. The nose dominantly the chief feature. The cheeks fleshless with pecks of beard confused whether to grow or not. But among all, the eyes are worth staring at. It’s perturbed and shines in nervousness. It’s fragile and weak. Feeble. But it has a lot of tale to tell. It has seen things beyond comprehension. In its vastness was pervaded the deepest of secrets, regrets and myriad of other feelings. Truly it was said, he thought, eyes are the windows to soul.

I am my companion

All these time I wondered

For as the loneliness struck,

Why one has to be

But all by himself

Bounded by walls of insecurity and fear?

Why one broods, while one is alone and

Why one seeks companion.

But in solitude I found myself,

And heard my voice singing.

Listened to my heart beating

And I being alive

And this day, I found me.

 I am my companion and

For that I am born alone.

Life

Life doesn’t come with a set of rules. As each days passes, one is to experience and perceive our own rules about life and this perhaps is why most people are lost. They might look deep into your eyes and with that confidence they might tell you, they know the in and out about life. But just remember that most times it’s just a plain lie. Everyone is lost at some point of their life with no certainty of their righteousness of their doing. They must be doing something because they have seen people doing it or they have been told to do so. They don’t have a slightest clue of what’s going on and everything seems dreamy. It might not be everyday that one is going through this but I would bet my last coin of my life that if not always, at least once, one walks though this phase.

Also I am often told to what is right or wrong, good and bad. I am told about what needs to be done and what shouldn’t and I always thought what was told to me to be right, but now as I look back in life all that was said to be best for me wasn’t all best, all that was said was not true.  I was always told that I could be a reputed doctor or an engineer, a teacher, a forester and so on, but nobody told me I could be an entrepreneur. The thing is that the society tells you to be the one whom they want to see you being. They will show you the easier ways, but not all easier ways are beautiful and satiating. It might bring you food, but not sleep. There are many things in life that needs to be done and it doesn’t need to be valid. There are no economical returns in driving 200 km through lush green forest on a sunny day but how would you quantify  the joy that fills your heart in doing so? 

Don’t take my words seriously, who knows I might be writing this with a disguised confidence and all this be just another lie about life?