The Monsoon at Dehradun and the free bird.

Loneliness was a blessing in disguise for me at Dehradun during my short stay of one and half years. Based on the foothills of Mussoorie hill station, the mysterious deep ravines, the snake like dark swerving roads moving up with the plethora of green forest ornamenting the hills at both ends with the cover of transparent blue sky touching the snow capped mountain peaks far away gave me a chance to rediscover my own self whom I had lost long back with the flow of time and busy city life. 



While trekking through the mountaineous ways piercing through the forests of Uttarakhand, the incessant chirping of birds mixed with the pitter patter sound of raindrops falling on the leaves sterilised my mind and soul and I could feel myself and could listen to my subconscious mind after years. And suddenly those dark clouds sailing across the sky with the cool breeze blowing with the cold drops of rain touching my heart and drenching my soul could make me discover those faces whom I remember often but they forgot me, or those faces whom I forgot with time and they remember me. I could see them waiving at me at every unknown curves of the mountains.


 During monsoon at Uttarakhand, the touch of rain made every waterfalls and rivers flowing with shyness like a solemn woman hiding herself away from the crowd, suddenly a lot more lively, passionate and wild. With the curtain of drizzle and fog blowing across the mountains, I could hear the boisterous noise of a wild burbling river flowing between the mountains with the cold splashes of transperent waves in my heart making me realize about the mistakes I committed in my past. The river would disappear far away into the darkness of forests and curves of the unknown ghost like mountains making me feel that all of us are moving with the journey of life in search of something we do not know or never wanted to realize. But it's true that we human beings are always in search of something to produce a balm to our aching soul. 


And then three months prior to leaving Dehradun for a change of my organisation, I met and heard the song of a beautiful nightbird who came to my dream many a times. Just where the road takes a curve and starts climbing towards the hills of Mussoorie, I saw her in a rainy evening singing from her nest like a lonely queen chanting her melancholy, but with trust on her wings. At the very first sight, I could realize the bird hiding her pensive sadness with her expressions of happiness and dream in her eyes for freedom. And I could identify myself somewhere within her. 

And then for the next 3 months, every evening I went there to watch her and wanted to be her friend. But then it's not easy to make friendship with a bird. Every bird is a sign of freedom. Even if you stare and smile at her and sit infront of her within a safe distance and make every attempt to empathize with her,  you always have a fear in mind that she will fly away if you try to get closer to her. And for me, she was my only companion in the loneliness of Dehradun. 

So it was another incomplete short story of my life. There are certain relations where you need to respect more than you love. Every author has the right to decide whether he would complete the story or not. I decided to keep the story incomplete. There are times when you have to compromise the sweet memories of a relationship at the cost of incompleteness and mutual respect. And such is the relationship between a man and a bird where parting away someday is inevitable. You cannot cage a bird willing to spread her wings and fly across the sky. The bird will never allow you to do so. Rather the song which you hear for a shortwhile will always remain in your heart. Who knows that someday while travelling on your way in any of the unknown curve of a mountain, you can find her singing again. And those are the moments we live for in our life.

That was a story of myself, the monsoon of Dehradun and a bird. There are many such small but significant happenings I have faced in my life specially in the lonely backdrop of hills. I will try to pen down those incidents gradually. 


If you like my blogs, then visit Straight forward Joyjit, my blog website and read more articles.

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