Hello Lifectioners!
This is Vishakh and I'll be contributing to Lifectionery now and then.
Our life takes us to various destinations all over and each one elicit a different response. They say the mountains, the lakes, the breeze flowing through our hair on the seaside, each have their own effect on our being. As if, mother nature seems to be talking to us. Back in late nineteenth and twentieth century, these remote places were used to restore people to the prime of their health. The effect wasn't as much medicating as it was soothing to the soul. A calm mind, surrounded by the tranquility of nature lets us decend into our primal, natural state of mind. Some might call it an escape from reality, a flight from responsibilities.
The following is a very personal emotion I feel whenever I travel to the moutains. This time my wanderings took me to a remote village in the farthest corners of Arunanchal Pradesh. I remembered a long lost feeling, that of the lovelorn, trapped within the trepidation of my turbulent soul.
This is Vishakh and I'll be contributing to Lifectionery now and then.
Our life takes us to various destinations all over and each one elicit a different response. They say the mountains, the lakes, the breeze flowing through our hair on the seaside, each have their own effect on our being. As if, mother nature seems to be talking to us. Back in late nineteenth and twentieth century, these remote places were used to restore people to the prime of their health. The effect wasn't as much medicating as it was soothing to the soul. A calm mind, surrounded by the tranquility of nature lets us decend into our primal, natural state of mind. Some might call it an escape from reality, a flight from responsibilities.
The following is a very personal emotion I feel whenever I travel to the moutains. This time my wanderings took me to a remote village in the farthest corners of Arunanchal Pradesh. I remembered a long lost feeling, that of the lovelorn, trapped within the trepidation of my turbulent soul.
Through the thick of the fall,
I waded the forgotten path,
Trudging alongside
Were the memories of the days past
And then I saw the silhouette
Of that cabin on the hill
She called it our child
Borne out of our sweat and love
It stood defiant
Unknown to it,
A hand that built it,
Stays no more in this realm.
I shuffle through the porch,
And the scents and scenes assault my heart,
Unbeknownst to me,
A part of it still remained here
Like an open casket,
The beauty of the place lay unmolested by time
The air was heavy
And also,affectionate
For it is alive
A place I don't feel alone
Where I feel free
My little wooden cabin
Up there in the hills
So I laid down on the soft wooden floor,
It still smelled of the old oak older than my blood,
And I felt a tingle on my old hands,
My Lucia,
Many years have passed,
Since I promised
I'll follow you into the dark,
And now together,
We walk into the light...
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This is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteAwesome one.. :)
ReplyDeleteHi greeat reading your blog
ReplyDelete