When the call comes, life in the city begins to feel like one huge lie. You see the same people on the roads, friends talking excitedly, families having lunch in expensive restaurants or going to movies, the guy selling idlis at the street corner, the auto-wallahs not ready to take you where you want to go, the locals still running 10 minutes behind schedule. All the sights which once made you feel safe and secure, now seems fake. I can almost use the word ‘maya’ for it. But then, isn’t that ultimately the truth?
The slow destruction of a life which you once thought you will have, the notion of a life which is just out of grasp, the real reasons that push you to do things that are not important, the fears that push you to not do things that are important....it’s the call which suddenly brings everything up to the fore and tells you on your face who you are. It also tells you on your face that you, who think of yourself as straightforward, are at some point living a hypocrite’s life.
For me the mountains are the mirror which shows me my true self, shred of all the false layers that I knowingly or unknowingly have put on in the cities striping me to the bare bones. For me, they are the shoulders where I can lay my mind filled with chaos to rest. For me, they are the ones which keep me tied to the existence of my life.