Andrew,Connie,
Geraldine/Ian, Julia, KarenM,
Lisby, Marisa D,
NanditaM, nishiD,
Preethi, rigi,
Shaziya, ShireenL, shobha,
Zomie
photo montage : ruchi palan
INCOUNTERS – 3 : THE MOUNTAIN
It wasn’t easy. All day long I had been toiling upwards. Behind me was so much that I had traversed. Ahead there seemed to be so much more.
It had started off well, really. Some months back I had seen the mountain from a distance. It looked a small enough mountain to me. And the peak thrusting above into the belly of low lying clouds looked like a reasonable challenge. I had read about challenges like these in books of adventure. So many enterprising men and women had accepted similar challenges and scaled heights to glory and fame.
I could do it too. I really wanted to do it too.
So I prepared myself for a while. And early one morning I set off to conquer this mountain .
It has always been that way with mountains. One does not just climb them. One conquers them. Like as if it were a battle. The challenge of the mountain against my determination – whatever the odds that were there in store for me.
The early part of the climb was gradual and easy. Rough shod broken paths, here-and-here shrubs I could take support from, oxygen enough for my not-too laboured breathing.
I moved upwards at a steady enough pace.
Ahead of me the peak. Always the peak. That’s where I had to get to. That was the challenge. There would be the conquest.
I moved on upwards.
Things began to change as I climbed on. The incline was steeper, the loose shale under my feet kept slipping and made the ascent more difficult, the oxygen seemed rarer, affecting my breathing.
I wasn’t all that confident any more.
I was having second thoughts about this urge of mine to climb the mountain.
Perspiration dripping down my face soaking my clothes. Weary in body and spirit I looked up at the peak in the distance.
That is when, ahead of me along the steep narrow path, I saw him again. The holy man seated placidly on a rock, waiting for me to come up to him.
Somewhat breathless and quite exhausted, I arrived.
It was a large rock. I sat down next to him wondering what he might have to say this time.
He waited until the gentle pattern of my own breathing matched his.
“It isn’t easy,” he said.
I looked back down the slope that I had ascended. The valley was so far far away. Everything seemed so small from where we were. I turned around and looked ahead. Everything seemed so far up ahead. There was still so much to climb. And I was very tired.
“Yes, it isn’t easy,” I agreed.
There was another period of silence.
“There is more to the mountain than just the climb,” he said softly.
I looked around me. A little up front from where we were sitting, the side of the mountain dropped into a lush green valley below. The lower levels played a quaint game of hide-and-seek through the patchwork mist that blanketed the valley. Across the valley was the shoulder of the next mountain. And beyond that there were others disappearing into the distant horizon. A yellow-orange sky backdrop-curtained the whole scene.
I shut my eyes and breathed in the distances. Messenger breezes played gently on my cheeks. There was no need for words.
The holy man was right. There was more to the mountain than just the climb.
I turned my gaze to him. He was all still. His eyes closed as his face bathed in the peaceful afterglow of the setting sun. I did not want to disturb him.
I sat there for a little while longer, comforted and refreshed. Then I got up and moved on. There was luxuriant green on the mountain slopes, and splashes of coloured flowers everywhere.
And the leaves danced to the silent tunes of the playful breezes.
I was in no hurry now. The peak was up there ahead, true, but the mountain was all around me.
I moved on. Slightly ahead of me, to the left of the now not tiresome path, I heard the clear-toned song of the mountain thrush.