It was a pretty morning. The kind that makes you want just to go out and do things. The weather was nice. Moderately cold, adequately warm. Ah, when did I fell asleep? The 'tandoor' and 2 blankets did keep me warm though. I toddled myself trying not to step on anyone.
The view here is massively beautiful. Mighty Parvathi lined up in all directions, dressed in white. Like it's someone's funeral. Wait, an Indian funeral. Birds are performing daily sound checks. Riya and Diya are out here playing some game like 'goli'.
Didi made us chai and bread omelet. I feel like a westerner, basking in the 11AM Sun, eating bread omelet with ketchup. This is our last day here. As peaceful as it is, the expenses are also a little too much here, so we have to get down to keep the ship afloat.
The satellite phone rang twice and then stopped. Aswin Bhai lit a beedi and went to get some magic wood. I wonder why it's called magic wood.
Shaapi is preparing for the next 'chillam' shot. He put too much magic wood into the 'tandoor' that now is smoking, firing up like an 80s steam engine. I got out to get some fresh air. I mean obviously, I would say I wish I could live here always. The silence is too much tempting.
The problem with people who smoke too much stuff is that they can't handle idleness. It's almost impossible for them to just sit there, at the moment, just enjoying the silence. "Let's roll one? It just spontaneously comes out of their mouth. I'm not judging anyone, just a mere observation. Whatever.
And there are none of that serious talks that we expect them to make when they're high. They don't suddenly turn into Mathew McConaughey from 'dazed and confused' over one stick. They just wanna roll and set up another one. But whatever, I just wish people were more candid sometimes.
I swear places like this really, really resets your mood.
I decided to go for one last walk around the village. Maybe meet some new faces, find something new. Roughly around 350 people are living around here. I take a different path from yesterdays.
I carried myself through narrow streets, through backyards of houses made of wood and stones. Streets wet from yesterday's rain lined up by sheep dung here and there.
It seems that all the women are working here. They're in the forest cutting woods, herding sheep, taking care of the kids. I only was able to see a few men and they were just chilling near the temple. Just sitting there, cracking jokes, vibin', vibin'.
I stroll past the green fields and cute houses roofed with pretty green GI sheets. I walk past an old man and, I swear I have seen his portrait somewhere on Instagram. That's when I hear someone whistling I turn around and I see Harish hanging up on a big tree. I say hi to him. I was so relaxed at the time that I couldn't help but smile at everyone person I met.
In the next turn, I see a few kids. There was this cute little girl who immediately caught my eye. She was trying to catch a little puppy. She saw me, she's trying to say something to me. I couldn't understand. Then I understood that she wanted me to catch the puppy for her.
It was a little one, so easily I took ahold of it and placed it in her hands. She smiled at me thankfully and held the puppy close to her face. It was such a wholesome scene to watch that I felt I might melt myself here.
I couldn't remember the last time when I was this happy and felt so blessed. I knew this was a moment I'd cherish for the rest of my life, so I asked the girl if I could take a picture of her. I couldn't stop myself from smiling all this time.
I walk past the bridge. A couple was sitting there, just in utter silence. They were holding hands, and occasionally wetting their feet. We waved at each other and exchanged smiles.
I walked up to the upper side of the village, where an old couple was building a room. I finally reach the cricket ground at the end of the terrain. It does give out some major 'Dharamsala vibes. Parvathi valley, you sweet beautiful lady.
I have almost an hour remaining here. I decide to sit and take some rest. I sat down under a tree and played my Sufjan Stevens playlist.
I thought about the kid again. How our languages were entirely different and still were able to convey our feelings. And what Christopher Mccandless meant when he said, "happiness is only real when it's shared". And when Sufjan sang, "And words are futile devices". And what 'One republic' meant when they sang, "Can I get a connection". It all lined up perfectly there for me. Maybe human connections are real after all. Maybe happiness isn't a fairytale illusion after all. Maybe it's real. Maybe we'd just been looking at the wrong places.
People grow up in different ways. I grew up realizing that the number of people I can relate to is depleting every year. There are so many people, so many conversations, so many words, and actions. People be sitting around and cracking jokes. And you find it hard that no matter how hard you try, there isn't that connection. I mean you're physically there because you gotta pretend to be social to survive in this modern world. At least that's what I think.
I mean just because you can talk for hours with someone doesn't mean that you have that connection. Connection is when you can shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share the silence. BTW that's pulp fiction. I mean, constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating. That's not me. That is Clementine. But it's true.
But the reality is I am meeting one new person per year these days.
So here's to people with whom you can comfortably share silence.
Sayonara.
Comments
Post a Comment