You need a different kind of Saturday morning to bring it all down. To get your muses on, to get yourself out of the whirlpool of daily life, to get your wild thoughts wings in the crowded sky.
Here is the news. That brief Saturday morning is on.
I always wonder where do I get high, where do my thoughts sublime. I am in a constant contest with my thoughts for that decision which is still in indecisive. Where are my jewels? Where I will masquerade and not follow the queue answer lies in the blurring memories of moments I spent with mother nature, the ceremonial scenes of landscapes, the wet green meadows of mornings, the sparkling water of baby rivers.
I never wondered that from where did the river come. But somebody did and I was amused and found that questionable. But my ordinary soul kept winding in a whirlpool of mundane life until she called me. Giri, the river which quenched the thirst of thousands like me for decades takes its birth from Giriganga. A water stream that grows immediately into a river in 40 something kilometers. Born in the mystery of mountains submerses herself into the open Yamuna.
And at its birthplace live more mysterious nomads. The Gurjars, who live here for four months with their cattle, their language confusing masses with their known-unknown dialects. I wonder what keeps them pushing for living this eternal life of wandering and hugging nature. Not distracted by the ocean of urbanization, how do they keep themselves pure and basic. The answer is deep within themselves only.
The guy in the picture is Alafdeen who is the family head for them, He spent years wandering barefoot in jungles. Now he is old and rests for maximum time. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him, but his twinkling eyes and smile on face gave us a warm hug of hospitality. These people walk along the rivers and stay close to it.
Daily chores of life keep them tolling throughout the day. Innocence is golden, blended in their twinkling eyes. Their lineage is their destiny. We the civilians find them gold because of the utter chaos in our minds and society. They are the escape, sitting beside them I felt high, unaccomplished, not caring about anything, selfish and depressed. Simplicity is the call of nature, the more we diverge, the more you keep on rolling yourself. I am high here for a while and I will come back to be high again.
**This is a microarticle of my brief experience in and around Giriganga and Gurjars living there. This is not an informative article. Please forgive me for my mistakes.