There’s a park in the town I live and yes apart from the other’s it’s beauty is still intact because it’s a secret a well nurtured and garnished one. Isn’t it that anything which is unknown has always find a way to intrigue us to impulse and generate a code, of that curious child one which won’t settle, one who refuse to be bounded by the monotonous cycle of predictability packaged as a life of routine. That child will explore twinkle rush and ask, that child would do anything to know which is and which isn’t possible. Obviously this can’t be done unless you go, unless you explore, unless you see touch and ask yourself “is really it the end or just the beginning” . In between this park of curiosity there lies a swing attached at the end of the third world, with several trees planted back to it, a complete forest of everything that’s lost and everything that’s searched. The forest of all your answers, the one where you won’t be diverted but to be found and assimilated with your inner self. But one tree in particular intrigues me the most, sooner or later different does scares the world and always finds a way a path to be known, to stand and shout this is who I’m not like you judgmental or with prejudice I’m me and this is what I’ll always be. At the time of autumn my favourite seasons of all, when everyone will be naked weak and vulnerable, this special one will arise and shine always overshadowing everyone else. l guess they would envy him and the indigo textured purple flowers of imagination it blooms with, eternally the diamond in that sanctuary. I have always admired it and I have always wanted to feel it, touch it, and somehow acquire something no one ever has, the feeling to be different and the feeling to be known to be detached from everyone but being there attached in the memory of all. I’ll always tight my fists and push that swing harder and harder faster and faster to reach the acme to just grab the nearest twig and just be absorbed in that magical tree.
The best part of every journey is the travel and not just that cherished view from the top of victorious mountain but the hard work it has taken to reach there and above all what you learnt from that climb. That’s precisely the transition period I’m talking about, one when water hasn’t just turned to gas and hasn’t been evaporated for forever, but the one when it’s getting heated up, when it’s feeling the warmth and at any moment the probability could be overcome by the randomness. The moment when you haven’t chosen anything is the most vibrant moment as then everything’s possible.
We all are adventurers and we all are innovative we all have seen things and we all beg for ears to express them, it’s a human nature isn’t it. So far I haven’t even seen a fraction of possibilities, but I love seeing myself dwelling in that transition period of thoughts, dilemma, problems and forming the equations, not to solve or complicate but just for the sake of being there, being there in that questionare. From the screeching sound and the changing track of trains, from the high speed currents running in the streams to the heights where my lungs loose the breath. There have been stories and there have been moments of complete despair, there has been moments of complete clarity and there have been moments to feel nothingness. One of my friend again told me to write and I don’t know if I could even possibly can, but even if I can’t having nothing to loose I have everything to gain.
Apple, such a sweet and naïve term I do admit it’s one of my favourite fruits and being a weak child from the very childhood I know how mundane and mesmerizing is there presence. I still remember waking up in good health as pain can arrive, unnoticed in any form and sometimes it’s hard to sustain. You wish if the battle could just end, without even caring about the winner, one just gives up then avidly pain grabs such a harsh grip and that ubiquitous can’t be expressed. Yes there’s no point in travelling if you can’t feel it, if you are scared of being yourself. I’m glad and I’ll never forget the faces of those people who were there with me when I was lying coughing and vomiting, they ran for doctors, “created” medicines and covered my ears in that dark platform of colonial era, so the winds couldn’t just rebel with me. I was so excited for the mercy of tides when I could feel that child again in that early morning of a carved subtle day, when I woke up at the stagnant but a station full of ripples, everywhere was excitement, an expression of all the chemical reactions your brain doesn’t refuses to make, a small contribution in everything open and restricted, dopamine and adrenaline always makes a great companion my friend. We were at the transition period of a journey to be proceeded by smiles, choirs and forgiveness. We were there at the backdrops of Kalka, arrived with silent cold legs intruder in the early morning, from the broad to be measured on the toy of narrow gauges. To everyone who hasn’t been out there the station is itself a luxury, confused with mixed emotions of an ambitious mind & the one filled with down to earth strands, a yarn of a precious silk bound to connect several pathways. So what do you think sane people does when they reach such a place and yes we are on the same page, another social chameleons at there best. Pictures every where, retro to create candids, from moonwalks to all the relics waiting for the Himalayan queen arrive. The mirage of one of the most treasured and engineered journey, from hundreds of tunnel and myriad bridges at the height that’s even hard to grasp and speculate. Yeah we does took that picture too, but the things can’t be confused here as god has been a great creator himself. We didn’t had a lot of time rushing with vigor we were imbibing every memory of the spring present and getting prepared for the things and plans ahead. We does took a small detour and yes it’s a privilege just to stand on that land, to feel the fresh air and feel the elevation the paths present. Nearby we had our lunch and brought warm cloths. Winter has that power to create one of the best ambiance you’ll ever feel, getting packed and surrounded, to be warm & missing the quilt of childhood memories. Mufflers to impress with vibrant hues, classic vintage and modern. The never-ending styles of wearing them, from depths of gloves to being careful by not leaving any evidence. They have a beautiful church near the station, small shops like a complete oasis. Do buy things as up there as a hint prices will never be same, all the best for all your shoppings at mall road. Before we took our toy train and just had swayed away Kalka had something extremely precious, circular and an addiction, be careful before proceeding do take care of the craved instincts of your tongue. Apples, still can’t forget that small round green balls of destruction. You’ll find fruit shops near the station only don’t get misguided by the packed and decorated strawberries, as exploit will be there madly and patiently waiting for you and before even my words could say that don’t doublethink don’t dwell or fling away in any senile thought you’re having. Just have firm grip and go for it, take a bite and let that juice fill your mouth, let that aura be always around. It’s that perfect luck wish, one can ever had, say thank you for the shining sun the chilled mild gales and the beauty around, as even if you don’t your cheeks and lips are already doing that dance.
I always wonder if one day I could reach there just a bit more closer to that tree, an inch more closer to that flower at the end, but there’s a fear I could never overcome. I always thought close to the threshold the witch of lonesome loop, will appear from the branches and as in the horror my heart will fail at that exact moment. Having the most affectionate flower in my hand levitating in the paradox at the world’s end.
People love to stay in there comfort zone and when they can’t they tend to run away from someone to something else and from something to something different and precisely that’s what I have been doing all the time, every moment to every single second, they get agitated and angry when placed in that flux of discomfort, trying everything in there power to dominate the other. And now I’m a habitual runner, I run and guess will keep running from everyone, creating my own trap, the unprepared appointment with the witch. Long lost and forgotten unaware of my unknown comfort zone, the place I belong and uncertainty where I exist.
By- Kshitij Sinha