Coming Back To Life

"Our soul has the same relationship with the physical body as God has with nature, like energy has to matter. We cannot see it, but it is present " Shri Krishna in Bhagvad Geeta.

These memories I recall, while clouds are shedding tears for the forsaken and forgiven; for you and me. Here at my home, Ludovico Einaudi's melodies grasping conscience and letting me depict. Each and every note of his, is settling my thought at its place; for which I write, for which I express.

After two days of pumping and warming up things, we stuffed and padded the rucksack and left for the ultimate thrill. Lanky stick, jumbo backpack and shimmering shades were fairly common habiliment of all of us. Didn't we feel like comrades! With all the heat energy and raw age, we drifted to our first destination know as 'Grahan'(7,700 ft). The start was facile. However, the eccentric climbing, bosky jungle and unbroken rain made us worthy of our pennies and the camp site viewed us a yellow field which cleared our urban mind from denial. The pleasure of green woods fused with the buzzing birds and rippling water contemplated me to derive this:

Green is greenest

Kind is kindest

Wood is best

And dark is darkest

This plunges my heart to chest

At its best

For which i write

For all of these grass, fields and clouds

May the God bless!

But Oh, I am so modest

Like, we are so modest

Like we pluck a flower from a pristine field

And complain about the leak in it’s beauty at earliest.

Well, I often deploy my feelings in poems; nothing emotional, just alive. After spending a relaxing night and sensing the aura of the place, we started the climb to the next camp site – ‘Padri’ (8900 ft). An expanse of green lawn was charming. Grazing Mares and Stallions along with their acquaintances of Cows and Buffalos just captivated the elegance of that very place. Also, we contested, struggled and resolved sites for ‘loo and stuff’ when floor tickets were booked for pukka toilets. No one better than my friend Gaurav Kulkarni could explain it! Phew, after all it was relaxing isn’t it Gaurav? Well, this tradition of nature’s call continued for some and only at the last camp site (Nagaru) for me.Also, for next trek at the very outset, Kunal, you must change the name of Balaclava to something else , else Gaurav & Mihir might become cold blooded murderers. I might be an ally too????

Furthermore, we ascended to the subsequent camp site known as 'Minh Thatch'(10,700 ft). Rain accompanied again and the course got roughened. The going was not easy, but that is what it is about. Dodging the twigs and sprigs and regulating with slippery mud, the trekker within us was revived but with fluctuations. Lunch points were key for us to rest, eat and repose ourselves. And, as we saw the glimpse of the camp site from between the trees and saplings, we paced ourselves scrunching the wet-dry leaves and followed that dark canary path which led to us to the camp site with the latter feeling of rejoicing. But, at the Lunch point, that feeling of rejoicing I felt when I was scrutinizing the forest around while laying down on an abandoned trunk:

Sweat dropped on dry brown leaves

settling the taste of brown dates

I go on and on

and far long

Letting the stick slip

gathering the undermanded light

carrying the loaded hip

we go on and on

and far long

Reliving her curvy smile

the medley of skin and bones

the love so versatile

I went on and way too long.

The day followed by the regular protocol of meals, sleeping bags, gathering unbelievable views with our flashes and so on. During the trek, the queue enjoyed the path. Jingles, songs and everything. 'Shivaji Maharaj ki Jai' by Chetan Sir became a gospel, haha. Last slogan ought to be 'Jai Hind' (not intended to offend Congress supporters :P). And Shiva Sir defined offbeat tracks to record stuff from uncommon spots!! Well, and next stop was the camp site at 'Nagaru' (12,500 ft).

Topmost camp site to which I say ‘stay in heaven’. From which one could imagine the exquisite essence of God and a get-a-way to Nirvana. So beautifully it cherished and embraced our mind. Behind our tent, the curvy land angled down to unseen passage. Apparently, there was a big rock onto that passage, behind which we helped ourselves and the fog made it unseen; what say Mihir and Sanket (the Animal)!?On the other hand, one can view the other colossal and massive Himalayan range which stood there with grace and so much charisma. At night, the stars flocked to shine and the moon rose to flare. That frosty night, I opened the note, but settled not to write. Just that some memories must remain as it may. One can relive it, but cannot disdain it.

The next day we rose, quivering and shivering, we breakfasted and left for SAR Pass (13800 ft). We ought to trek 14 km passing the SOR lake (hence the name SAR Pass) to reach the campsite at Biskeri (11000 ft). The path was extraordinary with mind boggling views and angelic mise en scene. We waited on top of it and with flashing cell phones and clicking cameras, everybody locked the moment. The place was depicting the nature's allure and God's love. The Indra-Vajra rainbow was simply never seen before and was a jaw dropping moment for every one of us. Indraji himself tipped us I think! Further, as we were hiking ahead, the clouds passed through us, which curtail the temperature suddenly and often the Sun come up and let us know it's being. We covered about 8 kms and lack of water added to our agony. However, a distant glacier made us conscious when we tasted it's sublime and pure mountain water after a long tiring stride. The energy was back boys! Slogging tuned into strolling and strolling turned into sliding. Despite my pants ousted a little bit from the default place, the adventurous feeling of the glide in icy snow was stunning. And the SAR Pass was getting accomplished gradually with smiles, chuckles, smirks and laughs where our following camp sites were at Biskeri Thatch (11000 ft) and BandakThatch (8000 ft) (most dazzling and gorgeous site) respectively.

The last lunch point after Bandak Thatch, where the old man and her matron served Maggi and tea and coffee and what-not. Where they cared for us and not just served us. Where they gifted us which might earn them a penny. May it be just a chocolate, but of a different kind. The kind which is:

The kind of humans they knew

were made of flesh and bones

The kind we were

with different voices and lot of tones

The kind they knew

must desire for bliss

the kind we were

unaware of what it is

the kind they were

free from strife and a lot alive

the kind they met

started Coming Back to Life!