Wish you were here...
"The mist, like love, plays upon the heart of the hills and brings out surprises of beauty.", I found myself muttering these words of Rabindranath Tagore while we were sipping our tea. It was nearly 6 in the evening when we reached Gadegal Homestay . I listened to the conversation between our host and my friend. Conversation in Hindi with the pinch of pahadi dialect. Melodious in its own way. The mist was hovering over the cedars in front of our balcony. One or two vehicles were passing occasionally through the empty road below. We fixed our gaze toward the view and tried to relax after the long day in Shimla . The cool breeze of Narkanda kissed our skins. One could easily sense the hint of snow in them. Sometimes I can't understand the kind of paradox I'm. I always brag about not being a nature person. How much I love the monuments of concrete. And again I found myself there, in the mountains, so close to the nature. In between the play of mist and clouds, night ...
