←07 : The nature’s game

At first, I was Jaded and wondered what possessed me to this sleepy little town.
My senses took its own time to adjust to the accentuating silence, the grassy meadows and mountain cleavages.

Cars whiz past, heading east on NH1D, hoping to cross Zojilla before trucks clog up the ghat section. Tired motorists heading west look eagerly to arriving at Srinagar.

All doubts were gone when the clear blue skies and gorgeous mountain vistas reveal themselves posing existential questions before me.
Sun glanced over the peaks pumping a strange sense of strength and creativity.

Cold river banks in mountain cleavages welcoming us to sit on and watch the world go by.
It felt like the town was designed for us.

Strolling on the meadows of the valley along the curvy waters,
hiking the steep(almost vertical) mountains with cold sweats and grunts.

We kept our eyes fixated on the gorgeous mountains.
Moments later, the poignant story-teller came along.with his troupe under the supervision of the lonely eagle, the sun and the passing clouds.

The wedges of sunshine, the symphony of silence and the shadows of clouds were the lead artists.

The rooms we stayed were unsung heros of the story, with the roofing sheets responding to every nature’s call: to every minute weather change indicating signs of sunshine, rain and power switching with different alerts.

You hear a story that you already know.
Even with no thrills, no twists and no surprises you hear it again.
You knew of the tragic moments. Moments of love,pain and sufferings.
Yet you want to revisit them, re-dream the known dream and drool over it.

Perhaps,the art of story-telling does not lie in the story but the nonchalant ways of representing the story. Its the way story has been perceived.

Sonamarg for me is a great charming story-teller presenting itself in a new way everyday.
And the reason it stayed special for me is because I lived there.

Like an unexpected smile from a newborn, this journey has been full of surprises.

Like the perennial “Sindhu” river, things just started rolling for me, in my way!!

2 Replies to “8. The Story teller”

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