Sahyadrica

Dear friends, I take this opportunity to wish you all a very happy and a prosperous new year! It has been long, yet seemingly quick, as every year. It has been, as always, a year of tragedy and hope, yet I feel this year was a rather encouraging beginning of the new decade, for we learn from our own mistakes. We have seen things this year on global and local level that we all can relate to, all of which gives us hope of a better future. My heart goes out to those who suffered, and those who’re taking every effort to make this world a better place. Today, we’re the most populated planet in the universe that we know of. And if someone’s watching us, they’re probably facepalming themselves at our misery, caused by our own kind. Yet they’ll be astounded to find that our world is the best place there is to be, for amongst us live the greatest people, most kind and godly, who’re doing every bit to save our souls from every dark thought that takes root in our minds – and that’s us. Of n

He’s lived in this town long enough to forget the breath of the morning. Although he plans his escapades on practically every weekend, he longs for the smell of the warm summer air. In this town that he lives in, you can’t smell a thing. The first rains drips over the garbage dumps, restraining the petrichor from reaching your senses. The scent of Alstonia is overridden by the stench from the drains. When you walk on the street, you must watch your feet for cracks in the pavement. He maybe complaining like a subterranean homesick alien, but last week, he and his friends vowed to escape. For two days they remained aloof, cherishing the breath of the morning, the smell of the fresh air, and the sound of the sea. By the coast of Maharashtra, a little over hundred miles south of Mumbai, lies a little town of Nagaon – a small, cosy place dotted with cottages and hotels, looking over the mighty Arabian Sea. It has been a place of nirvana for many, and dipping yourself into this sacred sea i

7 AM SHARP , said the text on my phone. I calculated I’d have to wake up only thirty minutes early.  The alarm clock went off at thirty past six.  I saw myself wake up and, as I finished the routine in a blink, stood near the gas station. I sat in the car that approached from the highway connecting the messed up old city to the new unplanned one. The scene flew by swiftly, and switched to me sitting under tall shrubs with low thickets; a late morning sun filtering green sunlight through scarce but broad leaves. Everything was glowing softly, but it was very hot. I was looking at a boulder. Out of curiosity, I upturned the rock, to find a dead Bronzeback Tree snake lying there. What on earth was an arboreal snake doing under a boulder? I turned to look up to a passing lady, and my eyes met hers. She was slender and tall, and hung delicately from the lean shrubs. She was Mrs Bronzeback, wearing a necklace of turquoise jewels beneath her scales. She investigated me thoughtfully