The Hills Forgave my Trespass
The haze lifted momentarily and my eyes slowly focused on the fast zooming fan stuck to the wall as I tried to recall where I was. Then it struck me I was back in my one room PG digs and the throbbing in my body and head was caused by the sudden high fever and the exertion of the past hours.
As I reached for the bottle of water kept somewhere on the bed my head reeled and I had the distinct feeling of being on a roller coaster. Roller coaster, the thought brought with it a smile and a groan. That’s how I had described my life nine months back and everyday since then had been nothing but a new ride at a new speed with new hurdles.
The latest lap on it had been an impromptu trip to the hills. It started of pretty inanely with a wish to breathe in some fresh air outside the confines of the city limits and it somehow stretched into a long ride which finished at my favorite hill station, Nainital and then a mad rush to be back in the city in time for office.
They say people never forget their first love I think it’s the same with me in regards to Nainital. This was my fifth trip to the place and it enthralled me just as much as the first. The vision of the mist covered green hills rose like an ethereal vision, the unexpectedness of it suddenly looming up never failing to delight and awe me.
As the car climbed into the mountains, I felt that familiar knot in my stomach of great expectations about to be fulfilled. The twin urge of speeding to see the lake before it was too dark and stopping to take in the breathtaking views on the roadside fought within as the car fought the steep inclines and sharp curves.
As always the recollection of the wonder the hills had inspired in the companion of my second trip, came unbidden to mind. That image is forever etched in memory and I can never begin climbing these heights without it flashing through the minds eye. It was the first time he had been to a hill station and he couldn’t believe the grandeur of the sight that met him. I had looked on almost with a proprietary air reliving my own first encounter with the mighty Himalayas.
Reminiscing thus I reached the magic corner around which lies the expanse of the lake, cool, calm, comforting waiting to mesmerize yet again, surrounded by the many peaks which gradually slope into it like supplicants coming with bowed heads to the mother Goddess. It was twilight and the far corners of the lake were already shrouded in shadows, the last of the boat riders were trying to squeeze in the last bit of pleasure floating in the still waters.
The hunt for a place to stay in for the night took me up three flights of stairs to a room with an exquisite view of the lake and the surrounding slopes. As I watched through the window sipping my cup of aromatic tea I could see the lights slowly come on in the dwellings high up in the mountains, soon it would be dark enough for them to be mirrored in the lake.
Memories rose once again to wash over me like a tide, I remembered my fourth trip to these hills, with a person in whom nature’s beauty didn’t inspire any grand feelings, it didn’t make him feel alive, it didn’t make him feel like throwing out his hands and give the valley a hug for being so beautiful and bountiful and sharing it all with us mere mortals so readily. Tried to see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, found only boredom.
I felt as if my beloved hills had been defiled and they would never be the same again. I had allowed those with less than pure hearts to share them and now their beauty and grandeur would be gone forever for me.
Therefore when I returned this time it had been with a little reluctance, I was afraid the hills would look at me accusingly. I was afraid the magic would not be there any longer and then I would be forever heartbroken. These thoughts had plagued me as I drove up and had sometimes been reflected in my face, prompting my co-traveler to anxiously ask if something was the matter. How could I explain these thoughts? So I had merely covered it up claiming that I was concentrating on the road.
I had prayed the hills would know I brought someone with me who would love and cherish them as much as I do, if not more and would forgive my earlier trespass. And the hills relented, they threw open their arms and welcomed me back in their fold, I felt like I had never been away.
The delirium I now suffered was nothing in comparison to the feeling of freedom and exhilaration I felt to be back on good terms with my adored hills. In fact I am glad the fever came giving me the perfect opportunity to lie in bed and relive those moments again and again. For each time I lost consciousness I was transported back to my hills and I could hear the gentle lapping of the water as it struck land. My heart sang out for I had been absolved of my sin and the fever had cleansed my body as the sights had cleansed my mind and heart.
As I reached for the bottle of water kept somewhere on the bed my head reeled and I had the distinct feeling of being on a roller coaster. Roller coaster, the thought brought with it a smile and a groan. That’s how I had described my life nine months back and everyday since then had been nothing but a new ride at a new speed with new hurdles.
The latest lap on it had been an impromptu trip to the hills. It started of pretty inanely with a wish to breathe in some fresh air outside the confines of the city limits and it somehow stretched into a long ride which finished at my favorite hill station, Nainital and then a mad rush to be back in the city in time for office.
They say people never forget their first love I think it’s the same with me in regards to Nainital. This was my fifth trip to the place and it enthralled me just as much as the first. The vision of the mist covered green hills rose like an ethereal vision, the unexpectedness of it suddenly looming up never failing to delight and awe me.
As the car climbed into the mountains, I felt that familiar knot in my stomach of great expectations about to be fulfilled. The twin urge of speeding to see the lake before it was too dark and stopping to take in the breathtaking views on the roadside fought within as the car fought the steep inclines and sharp curves.
As always the recollection of the wonder the hills had inspired in the companion of my second trip, came unbidden to mind. That image is forever etched in memory and I can never begin climbing these heights without it flashing through the minds eye. It was the first time he had been to a hill station and he couldn’t believe the grandeur of the sight that met him. I had looked on almost with a proprietary air reliving my own first encounter with the mighty Himalayas.
Reminiscing thus I reached the magic corner around which lies the expanse of the lake, cool, calm, comforting waiting to mesmerize yet again, surrounded by the many peaks which gradually slope into it like supplicants coming with bowed heads to the mother Goddess. It was twilight and the far corners of the lake were already shrouded in shadows, the last of the boat riders were trying to squeeze in the last bit of pleasure floating in the still waters.
The hunt for a place to stay in for the night took me up three flights of stairs to a room with an exquisite view of the lake and the surrounding slopes. As I watched through the window sipping my cup of aromatic tea I could see the lights slowly come on in the dwellings high up in the mountains, soon it would be dark enough for them to be mirrored in the lake.
Memories rose once again to wash over me like a tide, I remembered my fourth trip to these hills, with a person in whom nature’s beauty didn’t inspire any grand feelings, it didn’t make him feel alive, it didn’t make him feel like throwing out his hands and give the valley a hug for being so beautiful and bountiful and sharing it all with us mere mortals so readily. Tried to see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, found only boredom.
I felt as if my beloved hills had been defiled and they would never be the same again. I had allowed those with less than pure hearts to share them and now their beauty and grandeur would be gone forever for me.
Therefore when I returned this time it had been with a little reluctance, I was afraid the hills would look at me accusingly. I was afraid the magic would not be there any longer and then I would be forever heartbroken. These thoughts had plagued me as I drove up and had sometimes been reflected in my face, prompting my co-traveler to anxiously ask if something was the matter. How could I explain these thoughts? So I had merely covered it up claiming that I was concentrating on the road.
I had prayed the hills would know I brought someone with me who would love and cherish them as much as I do, if not more and would forgive my earlier trespass. And the hills relented, they threw open their arms and welcomed me back in their fold, I felt like I had never been away.
The delirium I now suffered was nothing in comparison to the feeling of freedom and exhilaration I felt to be back on good terms with my adored hills. In fact I am glad the fever came giving me the perfect opportunity to lie in bed and relive those moments again and again. For each time I lost consciousness I was transported back to my hills and I could hear the gentle lapping of the water as it struck land. My heart sang out for I had been absolved of my sin and the fever had cleansed my body as the sights had cleansed my mind and heart.
Comments
I never thought that such small things in life can be so important. It's amazing that the experiences you 'use 'n' throw' in life can actually make your life sooooo b'ful especially when you are alone. Quite surprisingly, we tend to forget all good things in life and keep an indelible impression of everything bad happpened to us. And then complain that why God has choosen me to give all the sorrows of the world. But... it's in your hand how b'ful you can make your life... GR8
Welcome to my enchanted world. Yes, life has taught me that its the small non-limelight episodes that actually define who we are and what we become.
We often miss the boat looking out for the great steamer to chug in while the raft which would have taken us to our destination goes past unnoticed.
What you make of your life is in your hand or atleast should be and I would rather die trying to guide my own destiny that just float like flotsam in the great river.
love...dbl uff...