Naneghat once more
These are the days when I have started thinking that purposeless acitivities are waste. So it includes trekking just for the fun. However, this time instead of obeying my reasoning, according wish of my friend, I went to Naneghat, one more time.
I was not that fit for the trek. Somehow, such unfit situations are more inviting to perform than all is well situations. Therefore, I consoled myself that I will be able to do this. When I sat in the bus, I was feeling sleepy and feeling misplaced as my trek partners are continously talking. Nevertheless, since there was no place to sit, we all were standing and somehow I started talking with others. I was bored in bus journey this time, feeling inside that I am wasting my time and somehow I have wrong company.
These thoughts soon vanished when I started walking towards aim. Every time I feel same thrill at the start. Those two peaks, one looking like thumb and other just a broad piece of stone, are standing there for years. Jungle on their bodies is less dense now than it was first time I visited. Still thrill was same and deeper this time.
It was silence once again. Now talks of my friends were not disturbing me. I was hearing a tune within. It was song of memories, song of new thoughts and new realizations of old understandings. I love this silence. I love memories of this silence. I love the essence of silence I carry with me when I walk away from these spots. But I cannot live this silence.
I like this silence as canvas for life, not as a life itself. Some lines of actions, Chosen very precisely should have picture of life on it. Silence I need as building block of life, not as life itself.
We have lost the way (both in writing and in trek). Nevertheless, I was cool this time. Way matters for nothing. I see where I need to reach and I believe in my senses. I can make my own way. Little search and strategically thinking, and we are on the way. Now this is long patch of steps built at least 700 years back. It is 10.30 a.m, in the morning, but it is cool around. Now I am feeling a distance from the world where I usually live and where I am now. It is not just in kilometers or feet of height. It is in a way I am.
I see some trees are purposely cut. My friends are cursing those who have done it. Truth is not so simple. We do not even know who has done it. We are not aware why they have done this. May be this is the only source they have as fuel or livelihood. I did not comment. However, kept walking, feeling little different from ordinary. Why we need to talk when we are experiencing silence, a rare commodity in city I live. But sometimes I too get involved in chats that I later feel totally crap. May be human being are not made to be silent.
In the cave now, reading old and modern writings on the walls. Old one is something, which I have to guess, and modern one is list of lovemaking couples that had visited this place. Time has changed, but desire to store memories is just as strong as it was when first picture was made on the cave. Why we need to store and carry forward memories? My friends are taking snaps. It is sort of memory storage only. I feel I loose my observation when I rely on camera. May be it is just my rationalization of not having camera.
Suddenly people fill cave. They are from village on plateau. They are here for some religious purpose. Now I am interested. Silence has disappeared now and it is filled by call of names and laughs, some women are preparing a ‘chulha’. Some monkeys are around and children are laughing, instead of bowing to their great great grandparents. I am walking towards my favorite point.
Hey, I am at top. Its wind blowing around me, sun in full glow on my head. I am 2800 and some more feet above the sea level. Roads and houses are looking like toys. Whenever I stand at height, I enjoy this game of height and depth. I stand at extreme point. No trembling of feet this time. I am singing bawara man, without caring about my voice quality and my fingers are drum players on basalt. I sing songs after songs. Lost in my world. I am feeling good or lost, I do not know.
Walking down, after having lunch. I am talking lot now. And at the same time I am laughing at myself because while climbing up I had hated talking. So temporary resolution it was? Walking down is little boring since there is nothing unknown now. It is just careful repetition of what you have previously done. so after long march, we are finally at road waiting for bus. Moreover, yes, it is bus stopping in front of us. I look last to those peaks. They are there, long, still and strong. They are not bothered who stay with them and who leave them. They are here, now and may be for years to come. I am not saying bye to them, I collect my words, though many are forgotten in woods of silence and fear.
I realize why we need to have memory, at least for a time till we can share the joy..
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