Excerpts From My Diary : Day 4

Day 4

16th May ’18

(Amritsar ➡ Chandigarh➡Shimla)

7:10 a.m.

Hardly slept and woke up with sore eyes. Train to Chandigarh at 5:15 a.m. We were almost late for our train. We travelled to the station with our luggage in an open rickshaw. The streets were dark. 4:30 a.m was such a desolate hour.

I am sitting near a window in our AC chair car train.

What Do Her Eyes See?

(Amritsar to Chandigarh)

__

Her eyes see the beauty and oblivion in sparkles

And she speaks in rhythms and treble.

__

She sees the sun as a pole star,

Because she is a sailor for adventure; close or afar.

__

She sees withered trees and fallen leaves for inspiration,

And keynotes for catalytic enumeration.

__

She sees the glitter of happiness on the window,

And looks out for ruins hitherto.

__

She sees pareidolia in factory chimneys,

And words in a medley.

__

She sees an unwinding path in every canal

And giants holding electric wires in tug-of-war panel.

__

She sees angry birds in straw huts,

And the silhouette of coal in black salt tuts.

__

She sees the emancipation of freedom over the horizon,

And the choir of long trees, chanting in communion

__

She sees the clairvoyance of her dream

And flags of milestones that guide her path with a gleam.

__

9:51 A.M

We begin with our Chandigarh sightseeing. First, we went to the Rose Garden. There, we saw different roses and clicked several pictures. We then proceeded to the Rock Garden. That garden was very beautiful. Many artifacts were made out of different, innovative materials. Broken plates, broken tubelight sockets etc. There was a section where it was like a nature trek with waterfalls. We kind of ‘trekked’ through the bridges and the waterfall which had an historic overlay above it. Later, we went to the Sukhna lake, where we did not stop for a long while because of the scorching hot weather. After that, we proceeded to Shimla in a Tempo Traveller.

Rock Garden, Chandigarh.

1:39 p.m.

As I had to multi-task during the train journey; the same was not possible with the Tempo Traveller. So I had to type on my phone. Also, as things were zooming past really fast, I had to write it in free verse so as to account for my views and savour it too. It is not a perfect poem, just something between a free verse and prose.

Transitive Paradox

(Towards Shimla)

__

Lone temples, cascading Colosseum-like stones,

Ghats swerve sight within a squint.

__

Expanse of valleys

And a bridge arches with grace

__

Trees shudder at the cliff

Fearing the abrupt

__

Stones hold their pace

And accompany crooked trees in an alien Salsa

__

My sleep fades away

As the flicker of a natural story unfolds

__

The humongous mountains overlap

An impossible race.

__

Specks of concrete bedazzled by pyramidal symmetry of gravel

__

Dried waterfalls depart on a spirituality

Whilst stones fight fate

__

Cranes devastate the natural state

I don’t know whether to turn my eyes or accept this abase

__

Stones harbour a tinge of pink

As intimidating trees peek at the scavengers of nature

__

They spread out like a peacock

But indented, by our niche minds

__

Leaning houses take ascent

And trees crawl over one another to achieve the pinnacle

__

I change my view as my family suggests

And I’m shook, and I’m in awe

__

I miss a few lines as I comprehend, how magnanimous is the mountainous existence;

And we, tiny entities survive in the majesty of our ego.

__

It is necessary for civilization to progress

But so much as to engrave nature?

__

An ocean of trees, elevating and depressing

A hawks eye view in a spree

__

A refreshing purple pigment in profound green

Followed by an embroidery in polychrome.

__

But it’s an irony

Because this beauty, is only possible because I too, am a cruel human travelling through the concrete

__

Colourful bricks obscure my sandy view

And a street amplifies the dilemma

__

Birds sway and flock unanimously

Just like me; devoid of forty winks

__

Timeskip cause I sleep lol.

***

__

The mountain is like a slumbering being

Fingers folded like hills; spiky nails

__

It’s an endless loop of mountains

Temple flags and proud trees

__

The car trembles as it thrusts upwards

And the sun accentuates the golden grass.

__

With a lopsided grin and wild hair unkempt

I feel truly alive; exhilarated

__

The entire world beneath me, the tributaries of green gold

And the peak in quest awaits

__

I capture the fragment in my mind’s eye

My hands oblivious of and allergic to a camera

__

That is just a garb though

My measly photography skills will taint the enigmatic truth, I believe

__

The thrill of steering at the curvy edge

Induces the wonder of the garniture of trees rooted in rocky sand

__

The clouds jump in the picturesque bandwagon

And send their infantry to glare at the sun

__

Cold air hits my city bred eyes

And my chapped lips stare at the unknown

__

The transparency of white shrouds the mountain head

On the contrary, the skinny trees huff and puff and trek upwards with a huddle

__

A galore of trees mark the map

And the illusionary dry waterfalls turn into snake-like roads

__

I feel omnipotent whilst casually looking at the satellite view of the world beneath

The valley where I left a part of my soul, to the point of no return.

__

The rays pierce away the clouds

They temporarily retreat behind the trees for a strategy

__

The opposite settlements are spread out like sprinkles of marble

Growing wherever they are desired; like an octopus

__

The sun dissipates everyone in anger

For he’s too stubborn to relinquish his throne; akin to a marionette.

__

Pine trees descend before me

A procession which is undoubtedly a writers paradise.

__

I share a coffee with the valley swallowing the sun

I sit there, entranced, an evident writer’s block, for no words can describe that beauty; deeper than the deepest abyss of thought.

__

It took us almost an hour to find our hotel. After several miscommunications, we found it. I was apprehensive at first but when I looked at the view – I was entranced. Diary, let me tell you, it is ‘paradise’. For someone like me, who is inspired by nature (and anime too) there is nothing better than this. Our hotel, though in a desolate area, with markets farther than 4 kilometres away, we have the BEST peaceful view. With hot coffee in my hand, I stood in my balcony and took a whiff of the breeze. DAZZLED. Some of todays account was written by me sitting in the balcony, looking at the aftermath of the sunset. I wanted to take inspiration and write, but I had to complete the previous account first. But it grew dark soon. But anyway, I wouldn’t have been able to write. Why? I said it is a ‘Writer’s Paradise,’ but but but… it’s just so beautiful, there’ll be no words to describe it. It actually induces a writer’s block. It is paradoxical. But that again is the grace of nature.

The sunset, as seen from my hotel.


*At night, after dinner, we used to meet in the hotel lobby and take strolls outside. Though it was pitch dark and the mountains looked like they had disappeard completely from the face of the earth, the breeze and the dropping temperature was something to be enjoyed. After cooling ourselves from the breeze outside, we used to come back into the lobby, chatter for some time, share a laugh or two, then go back and sleep.

~~

Thank you for checking out this blog!

Excerpts From My Diary : Day 5

Excerpts From My Diary : Day 3

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Author: yuktahathiramani1000

Inspiration is my frenemy. Sometimes it's besides me. Sometimes it betrays. But nonetheless we go on with the passion for the love of literary art.

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