Mr. Mountain

This sudden outburst of words from me has left me with no other options, but to write! I had been reading so fast that my word-bank got a little stuff to show off. Vedic culture, life, religions, root of humans etc were my materials. I always have this liking for our past, history and the unknown power God. My brief reading on these topics has stirred my thoughts and finally prepared me to scribble something, let loose my block I had been suffering from for past few months [years?]. I had once written about mountains, but not shown it the ‘light’. Let me attempt it now. I was born in a very calm and quiet village in the outskirts of the valley of the Western Ghats. I used to wait for the monsoon floods to settle down so that I could easily take a walk to the middle of the paddy fields, gaze at the mighty mountain range and see the thin silver lines on Him [I follow the Indian way of assigning sex for the mountain, I prefer called it Him]. The rains would have, as I told, brought narrow water falls on the ranges, that can be easily spotted by naked eye even at a distance of 20-30 kilometers. The clouds would lazily move blocking my view; I had to wait patiently, requesting my grandfather to stay with me till I saw the falls enough. Grandfather was always patient enough to accompany this silly girl’s strolls for such simple joyful experiences. That is why I miss him so much in my life. His death was a blow I could ever take; I don’t think I will ever have to face anything worse. The school where I had done my ten-year education was blessed with the horizon marked by Him. My classrooms for upper primary education was all in a row in the first floor of the new block of our school. The elevation very well permitted me to continue gazing at my piece of wonder for six long years. I had silently prayed to get the side seat of benches so that my window and I could see the mountain stay there, calm and like a mighty young man! Yes, by the time I did start see the young man in Him. I was well fed by my grandmother on the Hindu Mythology. For me myths were as good as real. I learned that Shiva was powerful Lord who danced and smoked. He was not liked by all but still loved by the eternal feminine power Shakti. I did start empathizing with most of the mythological situations by then. ‘I learned’ that Krishna was very cunning and smart that he did all possible mischief to get things done. I started having a dislike for him. All that stories of his innocence and goodness was brushed away by the prejudice [well I am not intending to pick a fight with Krishna devotees, neither am I going to conclude that I eventually fell in love with Krishna]. Along with the huge portions of butter, my grandmother gave me all that spiritual education for a lifetime. The mountain had his mood fluctuations according to me. He was clear and happy through the months October, November and December. He preferred to meet his dry days rather calm, during our summer break. Monsoon, he celebrated. Was it my mind or the Mountain? My long chats [or chants] with him lasted to be strong and silent. Our communications remained very relevant to each other. The chat was taken to better ways when He took me to his lands. My pre degree education was done in a very strange place, and the only resort for me during my solitary hours, were the hills around. I had witnessed a few forest fires laying their borders in the dark- crimson red. The evening skies atop the hills were a feast for me. They spread a new pattern for me every other day. I was away from my home, in a hostel for the first time in life, and all I missed was Him near my school. But He was so kind to surprise me with His hills to entertain me through. He assured that he was there by my side. Graduation was done back in hometown. I was a very bad teenager to my parents. Rather a trouble maker. The only consoles for my unsure activities were my silent prayers to Him. For the first time, He suggested me a friend. The Ocean. I could view Her from the huge windows near my seats. Three long years, I tried rather hard to focus on Her, knowing very well that it was not what I wanted. Urbanization was more of a ‘term’ for a small town girl. I have read it in plenty in my history texts. But nothing more that the word meaning I could experience till I was rooted in the commercial capital of the state. My post graduation was in a town where every bit of the nature-lover in me was disappointed with. Smoke, soot, population, dirt, mosquitoes…the best part of those days I admit are my friends who last for my lifetime. I had to take sneak peeks into the nearby waterfall [a large one], to satisfy my longingness for greenery. The rains I have felt atop the falls, I have and will never again feel in my life. I terribly missed the Mighty presence. But all I could do was to wait. I was given a window seat for my maiden flight to Mumbai. My husband was so thoughtful to make sure that I get a full view of the land below. I had the full view of the land beneath… I flew over Him… it was sad. His fellow hills being carved and robbed. It looked as if the land was bleeding. The greenery gave way to sad shades of urbanization below my feet. The flight descended to the slums, they greeted me with sarcasm. I was helpless. The giant mouth of Mumbai gulped the energy in me. I was little curious to learn about the ‘progress’ man made there. I could not wait till I found myself seated at the rear seat of a car, free to gaze at the unending roads that took us to Rajasthan. The destination was Mt. Abu. We climbed the roads listening to our friend’s lecture about the oldest of mountain ranges in the country- the Aravalli. I recollected my boring geography lessons which were surrendered to Him. My teachers then had taught us to mark the ranges on the map, we learned like puppies. Had they told us how important they are, I would have leaned forward to remember them for life! I also heard him say that the mountain is facing threat of illegal mining. How brutal man can be. He sees the nature giving, he robs her, leaving her with little options, but to rob him back- rather uproot him at times! I am no activist, I am active and alert when I take decisions. I consider the blessings of nature when I make a choice and I never let Her be the second priority. I see that it is not a big task; it is so simple to live nature-friendly. Who is making it too big a thing? We need mountains, rivers, wind, fire and ether. I intend to raise no eyebrows. I intend to stimulate a thought. Those who find time to read this, please. Let us think alike, do a little so that the future gets to see nothing really bad!

Nameless

It was one scoop of hard work, three years of dream-time and enough of luck that took a girl to her dream academics- management! She was asked by her Maker to be the only child of a couple who were government servants in the God’s own country! They could afford her the best education; she received schooling in the first C. B. S. E affiliated school in the village. Tuned to the British language at a very early age, familiar to the ways of convent education and more importantly brought up by a modest family, she was no special girl. The village girl somehow had a taste of her own unlike those of her gender, age, caste, religion and region. Her reading patterns were not strange but, all she read had sown deep thoughts in her mind. Her dressing was no vulgar, but tom-boyish as jean and t-shirts were quite strange for the villagers to be cool about- she was viewed as ‘different’. Being tom-boyish was not a ‘thing’ for her because it was a ‘thing’ only for others, for her…she was just being herself! She was tagged as ‘different’. Neither parents nor the girl had career plans for her. She followed her school instructor [precisely in the post matriculation years], aimed at being either a doctor or an engineer- pathetic! She now admits that it was the most foolish part in her life that she had decided to venture at something which her heart never longed for. At least consulting a dictionary for the word meaning ‘engineer’ or ‘doctor’ would have helped. For the mistakes in those years, she has learned the importance teachers can play in a pupil’s life! She now believes in mentoring and instructing, not ‘teaching’! Poor career plans had guided her to the best of her life, or she made the best out of ruins she was left with. Phoenix. The bedrock for her dreams, ideas and the very formation of her present just began. The degree in History from a popular campus in her town had equipped her to dream big and live life the way she wanted it to be. She did believe in helping others in pursuing their dreams. No charity. No violence. True love with toppings of lust, music, books, movies and travel. By then it so happened that this girl was ready to launch herself to a bigger arena. So the maths in the examination paper was not that bad. The English passages easy and the candidate flew out with the tenth rank in the Common Admission Test conducted by the university. I hope that my readers would have, by this time figured out with ease that I was talking [oh, sorry…writing/typing] about none other than myself! My education in the oldest School of Management in the country is a mixture of nightmares, friendships and excitement. One of my batch mates had the opportunity to read anarticle of mine and the poor chap poked me ‘’write about your days in the campus, friendships, etc.’’. I am sure he had the least of assurance that I will obey him. But yes, my dear it has happened. I am obeying you and please find happiness in reading this! I was keen on my course being M. B. A. I had no doubts on it. I very clearly remember one of the candidates remarking after our group discussion procedure, ‘’you act very well, expressive face you have’’. I had no clue that people do observe so closely and make mistakes while commenting! We had large classrooms with comfortable furnishings, projector and enough power points to charge cell phones and laptops. I won’t make any general comments and those who read further, please make sure that they digest my views else vomit the dirt. We had enough freedom. One could be what she/he wanted. The soil was fertile, enough nutrients and moderators. All that mattered was what the students preferred to sow. I chose to experience. And I shall tell you some of it- if you are expecting me to reveal my love life, habits, failures etc….well you do have some hope. But I like suspense and would love to cultivate the habit of imagination in my readers, so never expect me to be the confession and you to be in the priest’s robe. Hmmm…I would like to begin with food. Our hostel canteen was not bad, but nothing great either for a foodie. This was not an excuse but a solid reason for me to eat out. I have explored almost every veg-joints in the town. Pappu uncle, the Punjabi Dhaba owner in the town [The Queen of the Arabian Sea] loved to see me enter the restaurant with new friends each weekend. The hot salt lussy, hot phulkas which I used to decorate with Amul butter, green peas masala sabjis, fresh paneer cubes and the fragrance of spices from adjoin shops were too many reasons for me to be a regular. The student-pocket friendly prices of fresh food in this joint [now, hygiene maniacs please excuse me] was my pleasure point no.1. Fast moving ‘consumer good[food]. Café Coffee Day outlets in the town shall never forget me and my friends I swear. We were those lazy people who would discuss too much over a single coffee. Had the store owner calculated the loss he had incurred because of us occupying his seats for long…he would have fired all his staff for entertaining us with similes and service. Well…customers are never to be questioned! Men and women [I don’t care where we come form, be it Mars or Venus]. I have had the best time in my life to start learning about relationships. Men are always men, and women hardly try to change. You talk to you opposite sex then you are a spoiled seed. Girl you look appealing, well then you are trying to seduce. Boy, you act smart, you will be cornered! Why the hell do people smell only the stench? Our society so stupid to ignore the pleasant. It is partly about jealousy too. Being transparent has invited such trouble. Even the ones who are supposed to be models have talked dirt to me. Well, how can the disciples differ from the holy path! Let me open up about my very sweet memories. Friends! I had no enemies! I had a friend who dared to slap me on my face. I had a friend who literally tolerated me. One who guided me. One who walked with me. Luckily none followed me, I enjoy this uniqueness! I still share the same with all of them [except the one who slapped me, he was wrong in two ways, one in what he had done which made me talk against him the other, slapping me]. I had no male chauvinism to experience from my male friends and I had good female friends who never bitched me. The one-arm’s distance theory works fine in every relationship. Well, I shall not complete unless I mention about the purpose of my course. Academics! I was less than average. I tell you; ‘teaching’ is boring for my kind of genes. I wish I had good mentors there. Now I realize that I was polishing myself like a pebble in the wild course of a river. I can withstand the blows and breezes in life. I have had the opportunity to taste a bit of trust, anger, love, sarcasm, rebellion and belief. I am not going to conclude. I know, this is still incomplete. But I warned you in the beginning- I like suspense!