HOME | POLITICS | SPORTS | LIFE | SCI/TECH | OPEDS | HELPFUL TIPS
|
July 20, 2007 Every time I move to somewhere new, my instinct lashes at me to inspect, grade and load myself with opinions about the place. I ignore the fully urbanized settlements, right away, my opinions fail me. However, as soon as I cross the urban lethargy, over to farms, fields, trees and ponds, my judgmental mind comes out of hiding. My eyes dive out at every legion, scanning the minutest of detail. Behind all the effort, lies one true motivation, to find a spot where I can stop for a few moments. What people call repetitive landscapes, i.e. the semi-urban or the rural towns, is perhaps a prize so rare for the human eyes. Like every sight, the visuals go through the eyes, to the brains, but among them are few that blend so well with what the mind seeks.  A farm that grows Sal trees, isn't that a rare sight. I discovered one yesterday morning. I just moved to this new place, which at one end houses India's most urbanized structures, and at the other end is a green poise. Well framed between buildings and mineral rich rocky hills, lies Gurgaon, a city in India. My love for green and the morning time, when the dusk breaks, is that perfection that can be experienced only for once during a day, and I try my best, never to miss it. I follow the paths that look most deserted and land up at spots that stay with me, forever. Many a times I have felt that it might lead to nothing, occasional natives living in shacks, smell of fuel wood burning, but all that again is something I relish. I kept walking until the Sal farm captured my attention. Two broken houses in the premises seemed to be age old remains and bore resemblance with Victorian structures. I found a man sleeping on a cot, under the open sky, in a mosquito net. He must have been the owner or the caretaker. I wanted to ask him so many questions. I have invited my best friend over to share with him my newly discovered spot. Tomorrow, Saturday morning, I am going back to the Sal farm again. I want to check those trees, they must be age old. This time I am carrying my camera with me. I want to sit inside the fallen houses, and be mesmerized by all the stories they want to relate. ------------ About the author: Shubham is a globe-trotter who has lived in lots of places. He graduated from Vanderbilt University, in Nashville, TN, and worked on Wall Street, in NYC. Now he is into the outdoors as a profession, truly crazy about nature, wilderness and the mountains. His upcoming book Glian, the Son of Nature will be seen in stores soon. He can be checked out here. He is very fond of classic literature, the likes of Charles Dickens, Ruskin Bond, John Steinbeck, and Jack Kerouac. He bears a special regard for simplicity, nevertheless, he equally adores the works of James Joyce. Email: basushubham@gmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com. Please link to this article rather than copying and pasting it onto your site (which would be unauthorized and illegal). |
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
