Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Stories on Wheels- Mt.Abu

I've got peace like a river.
I've got peace like a river.
I've got peace like a river.

In my soul. 

Music played on JBL flip3. Sailing clouds at sight. Pallavi, Priyanka, Bhavya, and I began our journey to Mt.Abu cheerful of the quick plans and for all the fun we were going to have. 


Pallavi on her firebrand Dugdugi revved past the trucks, listening to all the songs she wished to listen to. It’s the driver's day. We can’t afford to deny the chief’s wishes. 

Cheerful Pallavi, a friendly chief was okay to listen to any kind and every kind of music. We listened to Telugu, Malayalam, African, Hindi, and many other language songs. 

Bhavya got on to the console, changing the mood in the car by changing the tunes on the speaker.

Prateek Kuhad. A.R.Rahman. Mohit Chauhan. She got the groove right. We were on a roll enjoying the drive. 

It drizzled. It rained. Hazy windows. Blurry sight. We drove ahead while the wipers swept the water off the windshield. I enjoyed the drive being nervous of all the miraged potholes that helped us to go at our own pace. Snail pace.

Boosted by the music and cheerful laughs of Pallavi, Priyanka, and Bhavya, we went ahead talking, laughing, and also forgetting our road. "Journey is more important than the destination," we told ourselves enjoying the drive.  We strayed off our road by 20 odd kilometers. We drove into the Gujarat state. We missed the road. A little doubt and google maps helped us to get on to the right road. 

Azhar joined us on our journey. Poet in the company of happy souls. Nothing could get better. 

Hours on the road, it rained heavily. Heavy rain. Hilly ride. I was not sure of what’s gonna happen?  We took a pit stop before we headed to Mt.Abu. 

The car was our kitchen. The car was our dining room. No hard feelings on all the mess we created in the car. We continued our journey to Mt.Abu. 

A few minutes onto the road, the clouds were at the sight. Bhavya, at the front seat, got the best sight and was elated with joy. "Abhinay! Look at the clouds," she suggested. 

I wished I had. I also knew that would be my last wish if only had I looked at the clouds. I locked my eyes on the cars and the curves instead of the clouds. 



Occasionally, I was blessed by the sight of beauty. Canopies, Cars & ladies.

Few more minutes on to the ascent, the water streams appeared. Mist of clouds flowed. Mountains sailed in their own time. We, little humans, in our little car, were cruising in the madness crowd to the Mt.Abu

Constantly reminded of all the long drive memories with Dad. I was grateful to learn driving through him. I was surprised to observe myself being patient without losing the cool amidst the bumper-to-bumper traffic. 

Music and the company blew off my fatigue. I was taking in the energy by songs, Jaage Hain, Maula Mere Maula, Arziyan, Tu Hi re and many more songs. 

In no time, we were on Mt.Abu deciding where to go and where not to go. Thanks to Azhar for the timely suggestions, we went to the not-so-crowded road, free of humans. 



Silence. Sailing clouds. Trees that speak through the tunes of wind. I enjoyed the sweetness of the air I breathe. Observing nature without the help of a camera lens, I was reflecting. 

Like the clouds, whirl,  surround the trees, and sail away. Does life come, entwines us by its charm, leaves our soul gently. Does it? 

The tree. Life. The clouds.  The time. I wish we spent more time. On the contrary, I was also worried of the night roads. I pushed my friends to get into the car. On our way home, we met Azhar's friend, Nalini aunt. 



Warm.Generous. She offered us tea, sweets, and shared a lot of stories. Glad to hear the way Azhar and uncle bonded over photography. 

We began our return journey contended over the clouds, connections, and myself for a quick nap. 



Azhar recalled Green’s poetry, sharing us few lines from Gulzar. It was Gulzar's day! Pallavi finally got a chance to play the song, Tera Ziqr, Jaadu hai nasha. We took one final last stop to sit and enjoy the dusk and the play of clouds. 

Silence. Darkness. Grateful for nature. Pallavi’s car. Dad’s lessons. Good music. Good company. Lived in the moment. The flow of clouds fluttered our feelings. 



On our return journey, we discussed history, emotions,  unconscious fears, and a lot more stories. 

Highway songs. Guzaarish. Baawra Mann. Over the music and stories, we reached home. Good day. Great time. Thanks all of you. 

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