This is my last week at Kumarhatti (H.P.), where I had spent almost three mesmerizing summer months in the lap of majestic Shiwalik hills. I have been a part of its existential reality: its colours, its moods, its parched barren mountain flanks and withered plant life, the dried up water courses in the narrow valley and then its sudden transformation after the belated monsoon rains during mid- July. I’ve watched splendid sheets of shining flora resurfacing like magic. There is a mysterious vitality in the mother earth here. The sun and the rain drops conspire to change the very face of the mountains within days. The makeover is so overwhelming and fast, that too soon you forget whether this pulsating rustle of plants was ever absent.
In my previous blogposts, I’ve penned down my observations of the beauty of this place in all its avatars. This post is a farewell message of gratefulness to the place for enriching me about its culture, natural wonders, regal pines and the lyricism of the rains along with its mystifying mists, its prancing clouds which try to befriend you while you sit in the balcony awed by the charismatic sight. The twitter of tiny birds- too nimble to be imprisoned in the phone lens- in bushes around completes the circle of co-existence of man with the natural phenomenon. All this and much more constitute the harmonized parts of the whole which represents the persona of this place.
I’m bidding it adieu till we meet again in the summer of 2013. A few words of a song come to my mind:
‘Sayonara sayonara kal phir milenge sayonara.’ This is a song from LOVE IN TOKYO where Asha Parikh sings for Joy Mukerjee (?) the handsome romantic hero of yesteryears, who sadly is no more.
(Images of flowers blooming in the complex where we are putting up)