Saturday, 22 October 2016

A crack in monotonous days

Only a couple of days have passed after I along with my roommate and few other friends gathered in chilly evening at Som’s room and discussed how mundane our days are passing. Going to college, coming back, cooking meals and retiring to bed was all that we were doing. Since it was in the midst of a long stretch of holidays, Som promptly suggested that we venture out on a trip that very night. Everyone agreed in excitement and planned the logistics. My roommate has a car and after arranging for two more bikes, eight of us ventured out at midnight to a place called Mussoori, which is 50 kms from the place of our stay. It’s a very popular hill-station which has been conferred with Queen of the Hills. The road to the hill top maneuvers through thick forest with numerous curves and bends.

I wore the toughest from my closet that can withstand the pre-wintery cold. We started the journey with me being in the car and others on the bikes and car equally with soulful songs played in the background to subside the hearts beating high on adrenaline. After having travelled through the city, I volunteered to ride one of the bikes, and I say this with immense happiness that it was the best ride of my life here in Dehradun. The cold wind slapped me with its icy hands as I maneuvered the bike through the curves and bends of the road. I felt elated and alive. How I wished the journey never ended but before I knew we had reached the hill top. We parked our vehicles and ascended to the peak of the hill on foot which was strenuous in the thin air. But we walked in the dense of the night taking photographs of ourselves in the light of street lamps. The little city of Mussoori perched on the hills was silent and tranquil with only street dogs giving out soft howls.
After half an hour or so of trekking uphill we reached the peak which locally is called as the Gun-hill point. The view from this point was splendidly picturesque that we couldn’t stop ourselves from taking photographs. The city below spread in the slope was illuminated by lights which looked as though the night sky adorned with twinkling stars had fallen on this hill to form a breathtaking picturesque as a treat and delight to our longing eyes. And in the far end, the city of Dehradun radiated itself in mystery; unfathomable to a busy man.

All the hard work of ascending to this point was to, at the break of the dawn, watch the sun rise. But we had ample of time before the sun rose so what followed was a photo session in myriad of pose and posture. Jokes were cracked and humorous one lined insults passed which prompted in hysterical laughs with no alien to hear but the cold air. After an hour long wait the sun finally rose spreading its virgin rays on the peaks of the silhouetted mountains. It rose from the mountain like a vast golden ball all by himself in the sky determined to retire in the west.

By this time the locals; particularly the early risers had filled the paths and roads: some jogged, while some walked their dogs and others were students going to school. The tea vendors were I street and after drinking a cup of hot tea each, we returned back; to live the same mundane and monotonous life.  

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