Harsil is 25 km before Gangotri. The mighty Bhagirathi is a muddy, ice cold trickle at this time but will be a roaring angry river soon as monsoon surges in.
The sheeps by the river bank slowly chewing pine grass will move up the mountains then. The 1000 year old calcite rocks smoothened to pebble will submerge then. The gurgling streams from mountains near Dharali will join a mighty partner called Ganges then. The sheep dogs loittering and wagging their tail in idled spectre now will stand by the bank and bark at their floating shadows then. The apple orchards by river bank will blossom to cold wind then.
Till then, i will content with stormy wind that blizzards up at view point. Till then, the river pebbles, the sun, the swaying grass fields, the whispers of cicadas and blue berry bird (my naming) all shall sing that one song of nature to us. It would not matter even then to river log picking birds and creepers on pine trees and squirrels what thy name be - for you are the life flow that ebbs in their veins.. .. but it will matter to tired travellers like us from plains and cities looking for one eternal place ceaselessly ... to call home.
No comments:
Post a Comment