Do you remember the day you were born? I do. Or, at least I would like to believe that I do. My tiny arms pushed against the mother earth, cracking it open so that I could get the first glimpse of the new world that was going to be my home. I was expecting some kind of magic but reality seemed to be far less magical. It was cold and dark outside and I almost regretted being born. But I shrugged off that thought and decided to give the world one more chance. Tired and pale, I rested my head on the bosom of mother earth and fell asleep.
Things looked a little brighter when I woke up. It wasn't dark anymore. Something far up in the sky shined brightly. It was the sun, I learned later. I felt stronger and noticed that I was not pale anymore. My arms were now turning green and a tiny leaf was about to unfurl, my first leaf.
Many cold nights and sunny days went by and I grew taller, or may be I should say longer because I could never rise up and away from the earth. I was surrounded by…
"It is not the mountains we conquer but ourselves."
Two years back, when I had set out on my first trek in the Himalayas, I did not know what I was getting into. It began as a quest, a search for the place that I was dreaming about for the last few years. Valley of Flowers in Uttarakhand did turn out to be straight out of my dream and I still cannot believe it. I remember sitting on that large asymmetrical rock for more than an hour, looking at the snow-clad mountains and scribbling in my diary as the cool wind blew in my face and the sun tried its best to warm my fingers.
Less than a year later, I went back to the mountains and it was then that I realized that I was meant to go back, not once or twice or thrice, I just have to be there every once in a while. May be that recurring dream had a bigger purpose than calling me to the Valley of Flowers. May be someone up there knew that it was just a beginning. And now that it has started, it shall go on till my…