My association with the Himalayas started long back primarily through the writings of few Indian authors. The readings had built a series of pictures in my mind and a tremendous longing for these places and finally, when I visited, I was overwhelmed by the visual treats and the experiences that the Himalayas offered. Ever since my first visit, I have been visiting the Himalayas time and again. From Leh to Tawang, from the Valley Of Flowers to the Yumthang Valley and from Likir Monastery to Badrinath, the Himalayas have revealed innumerable facets of its mesmerizing beauty and awe. The enchantment actually worked on me over the years just like Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” would, slowly revealing its charm while making me long for more and more of it.
However, all this charm would have been transient if it was not for another characteristic of the Himalayas which is more appealing – their ability to provoke thoughts and inspire realization, something which does not come easy to us in our fast paced life in cities.
When the mighty peaks look down in my eyes, they humble me with their vast enormity and true immortality. I begin to think of myself as an inconspicuous being in the entire universe. In one occasion, when I witnessed the snow laden peak of Kanchenjungha made fiery by the rising sun, it captivated me to the extent that I forgot all about my self-accumulated pride.
At night, when I sit under the star studded sky, surrounded by mountains wrapped in enormous silence, I forget all about the pent up emotions, wrath and failures. Things which had once engulfed me and matters which were of utmost importance at one point of time, begins to fade into irrelevance and I learn to stop envying my colleagues who manages better appraisals working less than me. The challenges it throws at its simple hardworking people belittles my own problems and frees me of any sloth. If I continue to rummage through my memories, I gather enough evidences where the Himalayas have downplayed my dreams of avarice, otherwise instilled by the rat race of a city life. Isn’t this what freedom’s all about?
Just as “poetry does not grow ripe for us but we have to grow ripe for poetry”, one has to mature enough in ones’ love for nature to witness it’s true mysteries and be fascinated by it.