Sunday Feature Abhiroop Mazumdar

Sunday Feature: Walk in the Woods!

Once you fall for them, it’s impossible to come out of the sensuous bond! It’s a bond that one would cherish for eternity. Our mortal senses are susceptible to anything beautiful and wonderous, and when it comes to the hills, the mind gets astounded to witness the intrinsic charm found in the nooks and bends of the mystic Himalayas. Every time I have been to the mountains, I have found how compelling they are, and that I can never refuse their call, and make it once again to climb the high cliffs. I still remember the first time when I did witness the mountains- I was innocent enough to understand the latent passions and love which are kept stored in the hills. But as days have rolled, hills have appeared in motley forms to me and I admit, that this is an insatiable thirst, a thirst which only gets quenched when one stands before of a lofty range to behold it with the eyes of the spirit within. Whether the lower cliffs in the valleys or the humungous sky soaring peaks, the love story with the Himalayas is the best one to be felt and cherished. For a person who enjoys the company of nature and feels free in her lap, it’s the mountain woods which offer a splendorous experience. I have travelled many paths, but the roads that I traversed while travelling from one cliff to the other, are the ones which are kept with utmost care and love in the deepest corners of my heart. Those roads are the ones which narrate the tales of years- tales of people living in the mountains, of travelers and itinerant souls, of holy men and monks who found refuge in the hills to contemplate the silence, of children who have gone to schools, of animals who have hunt their preys and have dragged them to their caves down or up the hills in the silent darkness of the nights. The woody roads in the hills are the most mysterious ones for they hide a thousand secrets of humanity and of nature, without letting anyone to know about them. The one who settles to lend an ardent ear to listen to those tales, finds them reverberating in the rattling of the rolling stones, the shimmering of the leaves and the callings of the birds, flying or sitting atop a conifer.

Whenever I passed through the mountain woods, I found the greenery luring my senses to enjoy what nature has provided us with. The deodars, the pines, the conifers, the birches- every tree speak of the days they have stood so far, continuously fighting the oddities to defeat the test of time to remain grounded in the mountain soils of the Himalaya. The beckon of the trees is heard when the traveler walks down along the mountain roads, and looks around the misty path, which often remains shrouded by the shades of the tall evergreens that stand on the slopes. The dense growth speaks of the mature woods, which took centuries to grow and yet they stand still, without complaining about the atrocities around them. As years are passing by, the ‘times’ are getting modern every day and man is evolving as a product of the new revolution, the trees, like the mountains, remain silent, yet vigilant, watching the progress of God’s ‘best creation’.

Every time I have been to the hills, I make it a point to stroll these paths to get in touch with the mountain, in a more physical manner, than travelling in a hired car to get taxied from one hilltop to the other. As I loiter up and down the green roads, the mountain acts as an enchantress to make me feel the fathomless beauty it has. Every traveler beside me walks at a pace of their own- few in a hurried manner whereas few tarries and linger, to gaze on the chasmic slopes, that lead down to hundreds of meters in the dense forests. We city dwellers are habituated to the din and cacophony of our kinetic existence down in the busy plains, but when one dawdles amidst those dark nooks in the ranges, one finds them uncannily eerie- a sense of some supernatural or rather one might say paranormal existence touches them, giving the person the chilly thrills of the eon old rocks! As the sun goes down on the horizon, and the sky changes its hues from blue to purple and then to black having the heavenly twinkling bodies as embellishments, the woods take a more sinister appearance, paving ways for the four-legged beings to start their errands to meet their hunger. And then once again as the morning sky erupts with the gay sun- the leaves flicker and the sun rays come down from the canopy made by the forest, making the mountain beautiful once again. To be in the mountains means to be in a different world, where existence finds a new meaning- to feel the notes and crescendos that every flora and fauna sings to celebrate the elegance and magnificence of the Mother Nature. Yes, to walk in the mountain woods mean to walk towards an oblivion of bliss…