It’s the month of June and summer has us in its tight grasp, making us think of far-away places, where the snow on hilltops beckons for us to lie in them, whiling away the time it takes to switch from summer to autumn. And yet, when one madly chases to fulfill such a fantasy, the searing burns of ice on the soles of one’s feet, are enough to make them gallop right back to sunlit pathways.
In short, one is rarely ever in a state of complete acceptance of one’s surroundings.
Nevertheless, the Himalayas have in the past held a deep significance for seekers and searchers and today, although many come to traverse the broad shoulders for totally different reasons, it is not surprising to still come across the sense of bewilderment and awe, not to mention complete entrancement bordering on the spiritual, assailing the sense and sensibilities of stray visitors. They cannot but come back again and again to understand the lure, the spell, the magic cast their way and so when one meets a stranger from a distant land or a native equally thoughtful or thought-free, skidding through glaciers and plodding through dense oak forests, with no other game plan in mind but to stay, to seek, to surrender, it is perhaps an overwhelming moment for another who till then thought, he was the only one.
Obviously, in the world of God, one is never the only one.
