I may not live at the best of the places but the nature shows its merciful side to me in many forms and at times. Quoting Kashmir or Himachal Pradesh would be an overstatement. I might have said it before, may be in another blog or over a light conversation. My house, more rightly of my parents, resides among the hills on one side like a perfect suspense to the world on the other side and large fields on the west.
Watching sunrise is not only scientifically forbidden but also that in Hindu religion, we observe it as the Sun God. Mostly far from dawn, the earth catches its glow and I silently pass in a corridor with a trepidation in my heart. The sunset is in the open horizon and sets in beautiful hues of the whole spectrum. The moon again shows up near nightfall slowly emerging back from the hills and the moment can surely take one’s heart. Again it is quite religious so I observe it with a feeling of reverence mostly. I try to give it notions of lifting of veil but may be I need more blessings to be that creative. What is more unique in this place that the winds blow at free will. You can feel the crispness of dry summer and moistness of winter right outside your house.
Yesterday, I was composing a poem on fog where I remembered a trip to hills where fog was so transporting that only practicality of the real world held me back in the place. It is the time here by Nangal that I never like to miss anything thinking how fragile is my relation with nature. The little specks of clouds or dark clouds with thunder and lightening last like a drama without any reason or lesson. Though I obviously cannot capture its essence with any gizmo, it hopefully fills most of my time during the day.