CHAPTER 1: It was that time of year, when you start feeling the cold air nipping at high altitude. The evening descended over the ancient village of Mukhteshwar, Uttarakhand. The dark outdoor was heavy with a promise of more rain. I found myself nestled in a centuries-old heritage resort, nearer the old Dak bungalow where Jim Corbett stayed during his hunt of Maneaters. Every corner of the resort reflected its rich history. Its antique, thick wooden beams and stone walls echoed a timeless charm. If you tried, you could hear every corner whispering stories of eras long past.
With a book by Osho in hand, I sat by the big window with an arched top, while the wind howled outside, creating a symphony of nature’s raw power. The rain drummed steadily on the roof, a soothing counterpoint to the winds that threatened to shatter the tinted glasses.
The window with the valley view presented a stretched landscape. It appeared like a vivid and surreal painting, capturing the place’s wild essence of mother nature on earth. The ever-changing sky, danced with the hues of greys and blues playing tricks on the mind as it welcomed the onset of night.
Knowing the place and its history, fully aware of the stories surrounding such places of interest and intrigue, I sat there wondering if it was home to a few ghost stories. The thought was immediately banned from growing further, as I seemed to be one of the two guests staying there.
I slowly turned the pages of the book. The words in it weaved an unmatched spell of thoughts, giving rise to the internal tempest of questions that complimented the storm outside. Every now and then, I would glance up, mesmerised by the sight of the mountains standing tall and enigmatic. The peaks were veiled in mist, and the water on the window created new patterns. The darkness of the night slowly crept in. The sky added to the sense of anticipation that hung in the air.
As the night drew closer, the ambience inside grew more intimate. The flickering light from the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the opposite walls. It plays tricks on my mind, somewhat enhancing the mystique of the evening. The trees outside swayed as if in rhythm with its wild song, creating patterns on the window glass.
The village of Mukhteshwar, with its serene beauty and storied past, provided me with a perfect backdrop for a reflective evening. It was almost as if the storm outside in that heavy rain was a reminder to sit back, relax, and introspect. The world beyond the window seemed alive and vibrant. Yet, there was a peaceful stillness within, urging me to delve deeper into my thoughts.
I continued to read. My thoughts blended with the surroundings, urging me to appreciate the tranquillity and introspection that such a rainy evening brought. I believe that is the key to growth. There are always more questions than answers in my life. I don’t know what others have to say as I continue evaluating my recent experiences against expectations.
Continue reading CHAPTER II of this story with an unknown destination- taking shape one chapter at a time
BLOG/0064/2024 To connect, send an email, join on Twitter S_kotnala or subscribe to the weekly update. This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop . #BlogChatterBlogHop #BlogChatterHop . It gives a word cloud to write weekly. I am trying to see if I can use the weekly word cloud – to write a story in continuity. The word cloud was – Time, Night, Books, Wind, Dark, Water, Centuries, Keys, earth, Painting, Sky, and Trick. 12/12 this time.
