Timeless, Until Again.
For the fear of forgetting
1. Crisp water was carving its path constantly, transitioning into liquid pearls, reflecting the light from the sun. It was surrounded by mountains, perfectly preventing & letting the water continue its journey. It was releasing a perennial soft music, pleasant to my ears & eyes, so much so that if you closely listened and sought deeply, without a blink, it would almost peak solitude & misery. Misery because it had a poignant aftereffect on me.
The liquids somehow found their way out of my eyes, at the moment. However, the mountain in me , succeeded in letting things settle & flow uninterruptedly.
The painted skies played a character there, the right amount of the incoming nostalgia, I've been feeling ever since I came back.
I had to pause and act like somehow water from the river left its mark on my face, taking forms of tears. Which I wiped, at once for the fear of people, staring at my absolute absurdness.
There was a sweet moment of a group of young men, letting my little brother, who couldnt contain his joy at the sight of people enjoying their time in the water, followed by some drop of tears of realising he had no one to play with kick in and out instantly as they agreed to play along, giving life those moments of my sweet little brother.
Yet, here again, I was there in absolute constraints of my ability to be somebody I wish I could have been and someone who unwantingly was failing at being the ideal sibling, a child should have Because I never had to wish for and always had them.
Questioning again of Why am I am the way I am, I began thinking of a thousand possibilities of who I would be today, a Happy, playful, tender & always laughing soul? Or the sweet, shy, loving & always there for my people kinda person? I failed remorsefully at both.
2. The horses I was riding there had such fascinating names( Badal & Jaani). Obviously, I failed to understand the Kashmiri context, given the language barrier but I was interpreting it to be clouds and somebody you would call out of love, most probably. I would love to call someone a cloud( Badal). It's weird & pretty, simultaneously.
3. The etiquette of the driver, we hired for our trip. We were at the verge of comparing him to the well-spoken & respectful class of society however the concept of perspective, intercepted my thought process. It humbles the criticizing & judging human inside me. Words from his mouth flowed in such a kind manner that it ignited the language-pursuing insect inside me. Will surely learn Pashto (پښتو, Pəx̌tó) someday.
4. The heartfelt reverence for the soldiers, sighted at every corner of Kashmir, especially as a result of the Pahalgam Attack. Why do some people have all the good things and some have nothing at all? Must be the consequences of their own choices or it must be the aftermath of others' choices taken selfishly.
5. There's something so ethereal in the sight, when you see young people praising their creator & being so much connected with him. There was a clean spot specifically made for offering namaz near the river and the people despite how indulged they were in the moment, somehow found themselves there at Maghrib.
