Fresh From Tamhini Ghat 🍃

If I had wings to fly, I would perhaps go nowhere!

I write these words while sitting a mere 1300 feet over the plains, on one of the hilltops in Tamhini Ghat and there is nothing more I wish to see now for my eyes are fixated at the splendor view of the valley.

I sit with my legs curled, in admiration of the beauty that lies in front of me. A gush of breeze from the Ghat and I am filled with an overwhelming feeling of reverence for such a picturesque view and though I may try to describe the panorama that has taken over my heart, words will never be enough to justify the sense of wonder that occupied me.

My palms slowly move over the wet grass of the hilltop and as my eyes move from one end to another admiring the vast green valley. I can see a lake, surrounded by the trees, grasses and shrubs, too white and shiny that it almost looks like a huge mirror over which the sky is busy showing off its shades of blue while the clouds hide away from the reflection. (To me the lake resembled to my country’s map and I readily accepted the coincidence of it being the 15th of August) I can see the huts and houses, some scattered in the field and few clustered in the periphery of the white mirror and my mind wonders if the residents of those structure feel just as grateful being a part of this magnificent beauty as I feel staring at it.

My thoughts remain mid-air as the sky slowly begins to turn grey and the clouds that had been running away from the lake have now taken over it and gradually a curtain of foggy clouds fall over the scenic view as the showers begin sounding just like a roar of applauses at the end of a soul-stirring drama. The rains cover every inch of me but I refuse to stand up. I think about the lake that I see no more imagining the ripples created by this drizzle. I think about trees and the grasses that lets the tiny droplets of water rest over them till the sun arrives to dry them up and then I think about the huts and the houses, the residents of which, I wish are dancing and playing in this wonderous setting.

Once the rain denies to stop and the view in front of me is drowned completely, I trace back the wheels of my car for our return journey when I see the hills, covered in rains, as the clouds play with its peak, run up and down on its slope while the water cascades from the rocks, forming a pool near its end.

The brakes apply itself and my legs begin to run towards the sight even in the most inappropriate footwear. There lies a trail that would lead me to midst of Ghat, to the nearest beginning of the waterfall but as I step inside the cold water and begin to climb on the hilly rocks, my eyes freeze and so does my feet. I am standing in the middle of what I will call a forest, with trees being my canopy, my ankles stagnant in water below and what lies in front of me is the magnificent Western Ghats with water slooshing from it. A sight I never knew I desired to see.

I pause my breath and my heart reminds me of the lines I wrote a few minutes ago;

If I had wings to fly, I would perhaps go nowhere!