Go to the face of the winter I met.
I have seen far more mountains than I have seen in this short life. Went to the mountains many, many times, in different locations. Our Bandarban, Rangamati, Khagrachhari. Besides, I have seen various places in Sandakufu, Shimla, Manali, Kashmir, Leh-Ladakh and Munnar, various hills. And almost every time one goes to the mountains in the autumn.
But this time I went to Gomukh in autumn. And this time I have never seen such autumn in my life as I have seen in the mountains. The form of autumn mountains, the twilight of the sky, the breeze of the river, the turbulence of the wind, the game of changing the color of the clouds, the game of various forms of white mountains, I have never seen before in any mountain.
And such an amazing form of autumn started just after trekking from Gangatri to one and a half to two kilometers, after completing the formalities of the check point. Then the bell rang and the morning had just begun. The sun is shining all around. With the warmth of the sunlight, the clouds and fog in the sky disappeared in an instant. The vast sky of the whole world is covered with glittering blue.
After sunlight, the tops of the newly sprouted green leaves on the trees look like yellow. In the clear water flowing beside, the silver sparkle is constantly flowing. And from time to time the golden, silver and various colorful forms of the snow-capped snow mountains were peeking at the head of the distant sky.
Seeing all this, I didn’t feel like walking, I put the bag down on my shoulder and sat still for a while. Or I hang myself on a rock hanging from a mountain. Flies fly in the winter morning sun, floating in the breeze, flying with the soft clouds that sometimes freeze in the blue sky, from one hill to another in the lap of the mountain. Or roll down the rocky cliffs of the mountains and go down to the banks of the eternal youth Ganges. Or I am lying idle on a hanging bridge made of a wooden staircase.
Of course, there was nothing to do. It’s just a colorful fantasy to walk the path all alone. I am saying this alone because the two friends who were with me in Kolkata were walking so slowly that I could not cope with it and started walking on my own. I would stop where I wanted to go and wait until they arrived. When they came to my resting place and started to rest, I would talk to myself again, take pictures, take pictures, look at the mountains, rivers, trees, sky, clouds, snow covered peaks and move forward.
But somewhere there was a regret of not being able to connect with one’s own imagination. I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t fly from mountain to mountain, I couldn’t float with the flying clouds, or get lost in the wind, or roll on the rocks and go to the banks of the Ganges and look at the blue of the sky.
But why and how did Bidhata fulfill one of these desires just like all my other desires! What was in that world was an unearthly attainment for me, and some time, moment and time like happiness beyond.
No, I did not benefit from the mountains, I could not float with the clouds, I could not fly anywhere with the wind, I could not lose the blue in the sky and I could not touch the top of the white mountain. But I got, on the way, seeing different dreams, seeing the last dream. In reality, in the palm of my hand.
Walking alone on a very risky mountain trail, at one point the mountain trail began to go down a lot. Since there is only one way, there is no chance to go anywhere else on this mountain trail, so I also started walking down the rocky path of that mountain trail very carefully.
The place where I stopped for 10 to 15 minutes in a row, it was just like a place to make a dream come true with the color of my imagination. Exactly the color of my imagination has made all the dreams come true. Going down the hill trail where I stood is a wooden hanging bridge connecting two hills above the chest of a stream of the Ganges through the body of a mountain wrapped in rocks!
The bridge that flows under the Ganges is a stream that falls from another hill and descends down the body of the hill. Thus, at the bottom of the hill, I found a small wooden bridge hanging at the mouth of the river and the fountain, and I almost lost my way.
Without thinking, I lay down on the stairs to make my dream come true. I don’t know how long I looked at the bright blue sky. I was listening to the murmur of the river, which was sometimes blocked by rocks. Sometimes I would listen to the song of Asha Sukhe Jharna Dhara from the hill.
Sometimes a little more wind was blowing on the wooden bridge, which made the time even more thrilling, the moments of swaying on the bridge of happiness, staring at the beautiful blue evening sky until someone or some other trekker. Until the team comes and does not want to cross this path. Didn’t see the time, didn’t look at the clock, didn’t rush to get up.
When will I be able to come to such a dreamy place again, who knows if I will be able to do it at all? So when those two fellow travelers from Kolkata arrived here, I got up and started walking again from the suspension bridge over the mountain river of that true dream.
And I conveyed to Bidhata the infinite gratitude, my dream woven in the morning, to make the colorful fantasy done alone come true, to enjoy it in my heart. I am really, really lucky, to get what I wanted from GodReceived, he gave me everything, almost everything.