by akshay mahajan on 09:33
I climbed a hill and came down a mountain,
Early last evening, college was over, or rather mine was.
I was waiting for a friend he had college for about an hour more.
Anyway a near by hill graces the campus, I had noticed earlier, a pair of steps lead to the summit of this green monster.
My old friend the sun was clambering about playing with the passing clouds, and a gentle breeze was blowing in a southwesterly direction
Time to kill, and boredom lead me in the direction of the hillock.
So I walked up to the monster and looked him in the eyes and all I could see was his tapering tongue leading me to his treasure.
Steps, a stairway to my heavenly hill.
I begin to climb his, old, worn-out, stone steps. Slowly, I ascend observing the slowly passing forest. I feel, like Indiana Jones just a few steps way (about 210) from the last remnants of a lost civilization.
I sit down on the side of these steps, somewhat out of breathe .I enjoy the cool air sweeping away the droplets of sweat from my face .I feel a coolness a sense of completeness, oneness and a strange soothing loneliness.
I began to analyze the reason for me to climb this hill. Was it that I had time to kill or was a strange signal from my subconscious mind that lead me to this deserted piece of land mass, or was it a act of god.
The answer to that I really don't know, may be nothing in this life is actually real, it all an illusion or everything is predestined and can not be change even if we wanted to.
Anyway I after questioning reality I return to climbing, somewhat perturbed I walk .On reaching the summit , I survey the land far and wide.
The small ness or the lack scale of object as seen from a height never amazes me.
Earlier, in my short existence I had lived on a seventeenth story of a building, where I spent hours looking down at my domain observing everything as a hawk flew by, soaring gracefully.
I finally reach the top, guess what I see?
Herds, buffalos grazing away, will solitary windmill played with the wind. I sat my self on a rock and assumed the position of the Rodin's thinker. The muscles in my eyes relaxed as I gazed into the eyes of the earth. The far away mountains and the open, wastelands of semi-urbanization, stared back at me.
The mountains, in the reflection of the sun looked, blue.
Times flies quickly when you know you are alone , and have no where to go.