Something old...

Possession. Not of people but of inanimate things. We all possess a million things since the time we are born up till the time we die. We use, over use, discard and forget. Sometimes buy, never use and then forget. But we never think about what happened to those things or try to dig into their side of the story. This reminds me of the staple autobiography grammar exercises that introduced us to the autobiography of a rupee or a railway platform. Those were like the Johny-Johny's of autobiographies, every one had read them at a certain point in life. They were among the first's to give us an insight into the perspectives of things.

All of us have felt this strange sort of pleasure in unintentionally finding a note in some old book, or even an old book lost for years, a symbolic currency, an old piece of cloth, or a vehicle that we once rode and all those things that were so dear. It some how stimulates immense joy. It is like meeting an old friend that you have been loyal to for long but had to part ways or like a lover that time and space took away from you. It is never about the object that reminds you of an older time, a simpler time and then leads you into an abyss of thought, more thought, a chain of thoughts that begin with the irrelevant thing but soon jumps to How you were then ? What were you doing in life all those years ago ? but about people. People you love or once loved and looking at it reminds you again of how the memories associated with those people are still fresh in your mind and you have completely washed away all the negativity while not even trying to do it. It all comes down to the fact that the times that people generally remember or ever wish to remember are the happy ones. All sad memories are dependent on both time and space and eventually fade. Like Prophet Mohammad said, "reconciliation is the biggest charity" not only to others but to your own selves.

Coming back to the value-less, memory-rich findings. All things that you use from the laptop, to the mobile phone, even to a diary that once was the only "hidden-treasure" you possessed or a pen given by someone you love/d, share a story. They have a story that we share with them. They are constantly a part of our whole. Each used eraser reminds me of a sketch that I once made and clothes well they just remind me that I once did fit in them.  ;) I love the idea of ruins. No wonder the whole world is after antiques which are both historically and culturally loaded. 

The monuments(can't help it) are also the biggest example of the same fact. They remind us of the stories of the ones who owned it and left them for us to make our own stories in them. Have you ever come across a tree that had a very thick bark, thick enough to bar you from being able to hug it ?
I am sure you have. Have you ever thought about all the history that it must have witnessed. In fact it must have seen an undivided India, a tree that is in Pakistan right now could have been planted in India or summers that weren't so hot and winters that didn't lock you inside. Not yet ? Now do, Think about it's memory bank and all the silences that it has maintained. Such is the beauty of old objects and ruins, they are beautiful with all their faded colors and blunt edges. In all their deformities they are still loved an are always dear.

Attaining 'Nirvana'

Aren't there a gazillion times in one's life when each step weighs a dozen more kilos and thoughts in the mind's temple are stuck in a maze of the necessary and the unnecessary,when all one wants is to elope to an unexplored land to attain some stability, a partial "Nirvana" perhaps, times when actions are eclipsed by thinking and your thoughts pace up with the speed of light. If all of the above is true and the path of 'Overthinking' seems like a familiar territory, one should consider a SWOT remedy. (Don't confuse it with the evermore depressing SWOT analysis). SWOT here stands for the need to gaze at the limitlessness of the unpolluted Sky, experience the thrill of Waterfalls and the Winds, breathe in smoke free Oxygen and Travel to realize that there are larger things in life (literally!). In short, mountains are calling you !

I realized all of this when I applied it to myself and did not let the pettiness around take on the better, stronger side of me. I traveled to Mcleod Ganj, a suburb of Dharamsala in Kangra district of Himachal Pradesh, India. Although, the idea of travelling in itself is empowering but, I prefer the mountains because they heal and rejuvenate me like never before. On reaching the foot of a mountain you realize you have signed in for something you will never forget. Mountains liberate you, they make you conceive  how supernatural the sheer idea of nature can be. The indefinable shapes , the unruly growth of untamed plants and trees, the crooked man-made roads that lead to them and the possibility of being the habitat of unpredictable species of dangerous fauna, makes them wild and powerful. But, the dominating feature still remains the soothing effect that it causes to the eyes and the healing effect on the soul.

Mcleod Ganj was like a rain filled cloud over the barren land of my deserted heart and the dying vegetation of my unproductive mind tirelessly indulged in overthinking. The moment we entered the concentric roads of the Kangra region my heart sang with the winds as the droplets of rain kissed my face. I helplessly fall for places which aren't very crowded, where there is more nature and less people to look at and Mcleod Ganj was just that. Think about places where cameras fail and photography enthusiasts begin to feel that capturing images with their eyes and engraving them for a lifetime on the tablets of their hearts is more worth their while ! Standing on a natural rock in-front of the Bhagsu waterfall,I closed my eyes, faced the sky, opened my arms wide to embrace the scenery and wished with all my heart to terminate the flow of the ever-moving time and let eternity pass in that very moment. 

People often associate the idea of attaining 'Nirvana' in the heavenly 'stuff' available at the Shiva Cafe of Mcleod Ganj(very interesting place but for another time ;)) for varied infamous/famous reasons but my experience says otherwise. While in Mountains, the amount of 'grass' is not in question, what matters the most is the 'trip' you take in every moment. That leads to Nirvana. How does one determine whether they have successfully attained it or not ? It's simple, the moment your heart perceives, 'What are 'we' when compared to rocks and mountains?