AN ODE TO NATURE

Since the whole of last week, the nation, as a whole, has been grieving the loss of life and property to the fury of nature at Uttarakhand.  A beautiful place perhaps created by God when he was in one of his best and magnanimous moods stands devastated today. I am reminded of that lazy afternoon many moons ago….perhaps, this time of the year, when I first set my eyes on snow-clad mountains of the Dhauladhar range. Pristine white, with a dash of blue, juxtaposed with proud pine and deodar trees, the mountains solemnly looked down upon me through a haze of mist. I must confess I was pretty much taken in by the serenity as well as the general way of life of that hill station which was so different from that in our plains. A few years after, I was lucky to live on the hills, albeit for a short period, during my training for the job. The intoxication of the pine scented air, the cool climes,the laidback attitude of the people, the homely bakeries were all sorely missed once I got back to the plains. Often I would daydream of the little details- the clean springs, the swaying tall trees, the church spires, the tourists etc. all of whom are integral parts of hill stations.Don’t get me wrong.. I am not the mountain-hugging, trekking kind of person; I am fully aware how life can get tough up there. But somehow, the romance associated with them has clung to me. And thus, I managed to string the following words together.

                                              JOURNEY

Gurgling and murmuring, twisting and turning

The stream tumbles down.

Down the snowy Himalayas

Writhing past the verdant greens and thick forests

Stopping for a moment, just a moment

To take in the heavenly beauty of valley of flowers,

And sway to the music of humming bees

Who have just sipped the sweet nectar.

And then, admiring the tall deodars

Rising high and higher in the hope of stroking the clouds.

Then it moves past, stealing one last look

At the gaily flowers emanating their fragrance to every nook.

Here comes the gigantic fall,

The stream braces itself, breaks its lull

To hurtle down the huge boulders,

And join the cesspool below.

Where the tourists flock to gaze at nature’s wonder.

The children enjoy the frothing waters

Before they get distracted by the sweetmeat sellers.

Yonder sits the ageless sadhu

Enjoying his tobacco, contemplating yet another journey towards moksha.

Here on the stream rushes ahead,

Propelled by the speed of multicoloured fishes.

A definite restlessness, a tinge of anxiety exists

For the stream now yearns to meet the mighty river

Just like the soldier longing to go home

To catch a glimpse of his veiled beloved as she comes near.

The plains approach, the stream slackens its pace

Excitement mounts, the journey is approaching an end.

The stream takes a breath before the bend

And, reminding one of a baby stumbling forth to meet its mother

The stream leaps and bounds to embrace the river.

As I write this, the innocuous streams, placid lakes  and the merry rivers have turned menacing. A lot many lives are in danger, many more have succumbed to nature’s anger. Which makes me wonder-when will we learn to treat nature, our surroundings with the dignity due to it? When will we learn that our fairy tale romance with nature can go horribly wrong if we mindlessly fiddle with it all the time? Maybe, we will learn, some of us have already started. It is also important and it is better to be late than never for we have to keep the romance alive for posterity.