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Monday, June 16, 2014

The Voyage of Fantasy

With the triumph of the brightness over the gloom, a ray peeped through the grilled window and transfused into my eyelids, fondling right upon my retina. And a peculiar warmth touched me with a hand as bland as a dainty. And with the gradual narrowing of my pupil, I unsealed my eye cover.
 The first sight that I captured was probably a fatal strain to my eyes , for I spotted two lines embossed upon the board which read something that seemed to be an argot. So I rubbed my eyes in order to perceive a crystal clear vision of the impossibly interpretative script. At first, I blamed my drowsiness that shattered barricades to my reading skills, but anon with a shrill squeal "chai bolo bhai chai", my consciousness retrieved back into me. But still the script baffled me right from head to toe, until a savior alternative language kissed my sight. The script bore an interesting pronunciation that phonetics may evaluate it as 'pa~ than~ kot'.
My superficial knowledge of the Indian cities provided me the brush to paint upon my canvas a kind of a map of the distance that we had covered accompanied by the transverse shakings and minor jerks.
The painting drove me back home when I had started the previous night. The bitterness of Indian system that we tasted was still felt in my taste cells. The four hour train delay and hopeful announcements that aided to prove hope hopeless had set ablaze a quarter of my liveliness. And the adventurous train boarding that our tangled coil of crap railway functioning served us, still hadn't been stacked up in the memories, but was wandering in various nerve cells, clenching the nerve movement. Though the fatigue feeling had almost diffused with the previous evening's on wheel enjoyment and the sound sleep upon the wooden berth, yet a frail of weakness did saunter in me, colouring me with a shade of sloth.
But then keeping aside the sloth, I culminated as soon as the canvas yielded an imagined map. The inference read that we had covered 1500 kms and a sway through Eastern Gujarat, Rajasthan and almost entire of southern Punjab.
The station aroused in the train a considerable congestion. The unreserved passengers had already begun settling into the reserved seats by tagging the illicit acts as adjustment and brotherhood with the co- reserved passengers. But a real sense of compromise had ushered among the Indians. The inter- caste conversations had broken out and giggles and laughters were all heard aloud. And along with the boisterousness was heard a smash of middle berths, with the deluging of dreams. A bath excluding refurbishment was soon the most trending action in the compartment. Anon, a kind of young adult gossip had begun round the coaches. And the cards had become the most important comrade of the travelers fighting boredom.
And then a gaze at the passing by beauties of nature delighted the inner segment of my heart and the intrinsic lyricism felt at the moment stole all my descriptive words. The entire being of mine had begun wandering in the beautiful green grasslands and agricultural fields, as thought they were pouting at me.
Soon then spread a menacing darkness in the train resulting in a series of moans. At first I felt as if the Sun suddenly drowned in the horizon resulting in the darkness, but then a true rumor flew into the train. The occurrences of tunnels were enchanting the mood in the aura.
A true nature of humanity had ushered its existence. The wheel of time coiled the bonds of newly met mates. The rapidness of attachment left me awestruck. The attachments grouted and solidified like the fastest of gums. Brotherhood and friendliness lined the outline of every body. Within a wink had the strangers contributed to bring the strangest of emotions of liking.
While my notions strolled round the roots of the instantaneous cohesion, the express whistled with a rigorous intensity, striking every heart's chord of exuberance. Inertia then rendered its slight impact and a downtown terminal was sighted by us. A rather contrast to the filth laden stations, the Udhampur terminal explicated the rationality of  baptizing Jammu and Kashmir with the title- 'The Paradise on Earth'.
But we were yet to be welcomed by a  tedious hilly voyage. But once we boarded upon the bus the tediousness was plunged by the company of the newly attached co- campers. And the plain ethereal beauty that tug out of the windows gaped our eyelids.
The alluring destination soon baited our tempt to indulge into the lap of nature. The verdant valley mesmerized the senses into a deep bliss of gladness. The haste to gad in the meadow roused within our troop. But we were to attend a briefing pertaining to our seven day maneuvering. Soon the allotment of rooms and other formalities followed the proceedings.
And at the very end, we were sought with the liberty to gad in the bewitching valley. The first scene that caught my eye was of the green meadow that extended round the horizon. But for the very first time had interference proved worth existing. For the continuity of the green grass had been hampered by a lake that occupied the heart of the valley. A panoramic virtual view shall be eulogized by infinite pages . The point where the horizon of the valley concluded, a pine- filled green adamant mountain sprouted out from an unknown point on the ground. It seemed as though the ravishing peaks entirely besieged the place where we stood. The beauty left each one stunned to the fullest. As though the internal body system had paused for a while due to the flabbergast that shook the body. And an abrupt cogitation roused a tame suspicion in me. I doubted that a mass deluge had teleported each one of us to heaven. But soon had the suspicion been overthrown by a consecutive notion stating that the place surpassed even the heaven's wonderment and therefore the place couldn't be paradise. But the 'Beauty that Fantasies cannot fantasize" could be the only statement that could illustrate the descriptive visualization of the very destination. Each organ summoned  a euphoric feeling.
The skin felt a cool boon of breeze that palpated the physique. A sudden need to cover up the body grew in the ambience. It was a rage of cold that tugged down the mercury. And with the flight of mere cotton fluffs, unveiled the indescribable snow clad  peaks of the siblings of Everest. The ethereal beauty snatched my soul that began wandering in the newly sighted attraction.
The evening set with the admiring adjectives that swirled in each ones capillaries. But yet a pack of amazement awaited us. With the dusk, the salmon sky with the ethereal foreground garnished our mood. And the slow transformation of the orange into the black of witching hours was the very next phase of experiencing beauties even more beautiful than the word itself.
The change of the titian hue into the dark black night sky tugged with silver stars over it created a mere mumble of rabidity that bloomed a spirit of rhapsody. The day stroke out the authenticity that sky abounds in stars and the stroke was inked by the sight that stated that dazzling twinkles abound in dark patches of black. And the marvel heralded as though the entire sky shall glitter with silver. The stars patterned the imagined motifs. Somewhere twiddled the thumb of a comely tyke, and somewhere sailed the steamers of the Guinean battalion. A juvenile nature of each young adult was obscured in the yells of rapture that echoed round the valley. A single squeal replicated into a series of a verbalization. As though the boughs in the jungle bore human habitation and some inhabitants yelled back in the same intonation and accent with a rather dwindle in the intensity of the howl.
The entire empiricism was sober enjoyment and passion and affinity towards rejoicing. The inimical intention had no room in the valley, for we had chummed up with the tightest of threads. And the best feeling which surged through was the fact that we were to enchant the valley for a half of a fortnight. We had all resembled maniacs who ought to reside in the place that even the jargon would fail to describe for our entire life.
With the onset of dawn, neighed a socialite horse, that gadded round with its cronies. The sanguine sunrise was welcomed by the chirp of the Himalayan Quails. The urge for the glimpse of the verdant meadow forced me to saunter out of my cottage and walk a few meters to fetch a clear view. And the view satisfied my inner urge and my eye's restlessness.
The only grief that we all bore while we spent our time in the nature's custody was that the speeding wheel of time was passing out. The day was soon to prickle us and we all were to soon reach where we started. We would be dragged back home, back in the cozy warmth that contrasted the chilled pollution free aura of the valley.
The adventurous activities and the burdening tracks played an equal role in the gladdening of our hearts but the gist of all our fun lied in the beauty that we summoned in the Himalayas. The burdening and unbelievable trek to the snow cover strained the legs to the fullest, but yet, the touch of the enlivening frozen fluffy solid and its bright dazzle due to the reflection of the infra red rays, added up the beautifying ailment to the coarse peaks. And absorbed the entire tediousness that encompassed our joints due to the climb. Playful chuckles and a trek down to the base was accompanied by light drizzles and breezes. But on the whole the day was exhaust + enjoyment.
Our attitude of being a novice aided us to learn a lot of the pleasant culture of Kashmiris. The vernacular speech was another pleasant part to learn of J& K. The kind- hearted inhabitants and local "bokuts" and "koods" there were fun to be round. The housing and agricultural customs were quite a bit similar to the entire Indian pattern. The minute mud thatched houses were something to look at. The dressing style of the people suited the environmental features. But the salience of this state was the temperate erratic weather and the beautiful buds that bloomed in spring. The apple and peach trees were another astonishing existence.
Minute in and minute out our gracious memory archives stacked up more and more of unforgettable incidents. I pondered how I would manage to survive the after effects of this stacking up. I feared every moment that these moments would lose up the second I step back home. Being an optimistic, yet my thoughts scrolled out to be pessimistic in this case. I prognosticated how monotonous the days back home would be. The most difficult would be the indulgence into nostalgia. But the nightmare of going was soon to transition into reality. 
With rappels and river crossings and with shattering of twigs of time, the gala juncture was to end up. The day rose a gloom in the environment. Tears were just wiggling in the pupil. The separation from the nature was the first grievance. For the filaments with pals had yet time to loosen up. The very day before boarding the bus, I turned back and scanned the entire valley for the very last time. The way we scan our rooms before checking out of motels. But there I found something of mine was left in the valley. Yes, it was my memories. My attachment. My love. My bonding. My glee. My heart and my soul. 
As though it was only my muscular and skeletal systems that were crawling back home. My entire self still roamed in the meadows. I was in complete mourn. As though I was forced to get back home. But gallantly did I face the situation. And once again I clicked the picture of the entire scenario and boarded on the bus to Katra. 
Yet there were some moments that awaited my presence. There were upcoming defiance that were to knock my door. The challenge was the scaling of the Vaishno devi mountain. We took a night start estimating to reach the top two hours after midnight. The hours long trek was tiring, but we were accompanied by the thrills of the night. The best part of the scaling was the view of the city lights from the higher points. It was a kind of a colorful dazzle painted upon a rough terrain. It was entirely a breathtaking, marrow freezing and a nerve clenching sight. The interrogative me asked if I was really seeing what I saw. The way each light of Katra contributed to form the wonderful scene was something to think upon. The discovery of electricity as though gained another significance in my life. Being time bound, we didn't pause much, but proceeded on way to the top. After struggling throughout the way, to the sigh of relief we scaled our destination. 
The caves of the place were good to look at. And then the most blissful sight, was the sight of the deity. "Three crowns and three faces." As though the scene glorified our pilgrimage. I realized why the passers by yelled and danced while scaling the peak. There was a ray of hope and satisfaction that was flowing round the hilltop, that attracted pilgrims. 
The walk down the hill was as though the walk to our beingness. Yes, we all knew that once we reach Katra, we would be off to Jammu from where we were to depart for Gujarat. Drenched in agony, affliction, somber and woe, we reached Katra, and in accordance to our schedule, boarded the train. 
The boarding felt as though we had boarded the chariot that was to carry us from heaven to the Earth. The separation was just more than painful. But the life is all about reality. Though we deny to accept it, the road to life leads us to our actual being. Our home was where we lived. The way after death we have to blend with the soil our creator, though our soul is in heaven, even we were all to get back to our origin, though our soul yet wandered in Sanasar. 
The step onto my hometown was a doleful situation. The bids of farewell to the friends who were with for almost a fortnight for every second, might now disappear right in the sky. Though we promised to stay in touch, but yet the reality of life was that we were no more to be as close.
But we have to accept the revolutionizing phases of life. If life itself is temporary, how can we expect moments to be permanent. Life is like a journey. We meet people, we explore places, we enjoy, we face exigencies, we cry, we laugh, we live, but at the very end, the death swirls upon the head. So as somebody said, " Live before you die." And,  "Don't die before you are dead.", I had enjoyed to my fullest in those days. Though my soul art in heaven (Sanasar), but I compulsorily head to blend with the Earthen soil my origin(my home). So life is all about temporariness. But its quite tough to accept the fact. But at the same time we have to accept it. 




So though have I accepted my presence in my origin today, but I still dream of the bewitching meadow and my soul still resides in Sanasar.
Miss you J&K ....Miss you friends... 

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