You and I go way back, to the beginning. We’re one hundred percent connected in a way no one will–or could ever–understand. We’ve been there, standing together. Sometimes crying in the shower, sometimes snorting through our nose, but it’s always been you and me. Always and forever…
Or so it was supposed to be, but some time ago I left you–
I left you floundering on your own, to rely on love and encouragement and strength from others–from strangers–when it was I who should have held you up. When it was I who should have hugged you and praised you and appreciated you for the wondrous person you are–for all the beauty and life you bring to this world.
I seldom tell you how much I love you. How much I admire you. How beautiful and caring and intelligent and strong you are. That you are my hero.
I was standing under the light of a thousand stars. At a far distance, I could see the burning flames of bonfire.The laughter of a group of fellow trekkers and the soft murmuring of river Supin was all I could hear. It was the night of the first snowfall in Har Ki Dun. Wild freezing winds wrapped us all in the arms of nature.
When suddenly, a kitchen helper (bhula, a native word for younger brother) came out of the kitchen tent right next to me. He discovered that the frosty water in the bucket, used to wash utensils, had developed an initial layer of ice. He plunged an ice axe in the bucket to break the thin ice.
And casually started washing utensils with the freezing water.
If you ask me, what I felt in Har Ki Dun, in complete honestly, I’ll tell you that I felt small. Small under the luminous light of a thousand stars, as if the universe up above is vast and unknown. It is full of uncountable stars and you are just another short story in the universe. I felt small under the wild force of powerful winds, small under the courage of the casual act of how someone was so comfortable with washing utensils with freezing water.
My personal universe started to look small, under the panorama of hopefully twinkling stars. In that moment, all our urban worries of this modern world, the hustle bustle of meeting deadlines, completing targets, attaching self importance to everything and hyping our own existence- all start to fade away!
No wonder, the mighty mountains resonate humility.
No wonder that Himalayan people are so humble.
Therefore, I urge you to travel. Travel to explore the different shades of life and the Himalayas. And trust me, each trek teaches us something. You will never be the same person, as you were when you started the trek!