the sense of expansiveness brings about a longing… a desire to partake in all but not knowing what in… one yearns for a past built upon the corrected plinths of the present… the mountain becomes more a curtain than a barrier, never refusing a passage but strongly suggestive of moving on…
the elements become a tad too disintegrated in such large dimensions… sun, wind, hail… snow, moraine, scree… thousands of everything congregating in their own spacious shelves or filling every nook and cranny… crouching, whispering, babbling… animism starts making some sense as the mist rolls… the snow breathes in and draws the pedestrian with it, repudiating any notion of an easy thoroughfare… the ice simply cracks up at that thought…
near the top, life begins as it ends, the two ends rather indistinguishable… violent avalanches laying the foundations for a fragrant spring… unremitting flows of water sculpting stones, and posterity… landslides surgically scarring the landscape to heal, wiping away some silent angsts… thunderstorms coercing adrenaline out of withering dispositions… dew of the night refrigerating life for the dawn to defrost…
there are anecdotes at every stumble and heartaches at every slip… and in that exasperation of hindered mobility one comes across seeds of the sanguine, the ephemeral hope in the harsh… the sense of timeliness gives way to the sense of time… the constructs of mortality agree to disagree with the nonchalance of transience… and one stumbles across that perfect campsite to reminiscence upon the remains of the day…
maybe that is why the big mountains intoxicate… like the sea, they embosom memories, pain, joy and aspirations… unlike the sea, their horizons do not lead to infinity but a little underneath… distant enough to overwhelm yet near enough to tantalize… hence one trudges forth, to deposit the departed at a height, for them to percolate into the future through these hallowed grounds…
ruminating on mountains… treks across Himalaya…
