The best way to know the self is feeling oneself at the moments of reckoning. The feeling of being alone, just with your senses, may lead you to think more consciously. More and more of such moments may sensitize ‘you towards you’, towards others. We become regular with introspection and retrospection. We get ‘the’ gradual connect to the higher self we may name Spirituality or God or just a Humane Conscious. We tend to get a rhythm again in life. We need to learn the art of being lonely in crowd while being part of the crowd. A multitude of loneliness in mosaic of relations! One needs to feel it severally, with conscience, before making it a way of life. One needs to live several such lonely moments. One needs to live severallyalone.

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

THE RANDOM LANDOUR TRIP

LIFE - COLORES INFINITUM (60)


It was a random check-in to the other lesser known heart of the Queen of the Hills, (but an increasingly chaotic and disarrayed natural beauty) wrapped in the context of an event that gave the thought to complete a random roundabout of Mussoorrie yet again.

Yes, the increasingly choking atmosphere pushed me to do something much more soothing this time.

And while an under-rest body was not sure of it, it came out perfectly blended, taking away the toll of the elongated sleepless hours on the body.


The decision to skirt the environs of Mussoorrie to head directly to Landour, the cantonment township of the British-era and the twin-city of Mussoorrie, sitting quietly, but majestically, some 1000 feet above Mussoorrie, was always in mind, like spending an extended weekend at Dhanaulti. And it was in this time.

Though it was just a random roundabout trip of half a day, the experience did what it should have intended to do, pushing me to spend some quality time there, and soon, in my company only, something the solo traveler in me yearns for.

The freeze in the atmosphere has not frozen time anywhere in this small, beautiful hill station that has its genesis dating back to 1820s.

The day and the hour of the day I was there, was luckily cold enough for me to bear it with insufficient warm cloths on my body as well as to give me the breathtaking view and feel of clouds romancing the mountains, falling on the hills, like two lovers take each other in embrace. Yes, the clouds, the dear clouds, romancing with the lively stones, I could touch them. I could sense their sensitivity yet again.

And then, there was an open ground of my ‘Self’ and my thoughts only. Thoughts were as they have always been, personified, demanding and communicating. 

The flow had begun..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey - http://severallyalone.blogspot.com