Coming Home-II

Nainital, India:

After a very long time-almost 7 years I came home to the Monsoons in Nainital..

While growing up, these were the magical days of rising fog, green ferns, wild flowers, random waterfalls, brown snails & slugs, yellow raincoats, duckback rainboots, rainy-day holiday. This was also the season fraught with the perils of landslides, roadblocks, cloudbursts, waterborne diseases, fungi growth and damp smells. Every Monsoon season a wild river would usurp an adjoining village; a cloudburst would wipe off a complete village; landslides would trap unprepared travellers, but I guess we had accepted these risks as part of nature’s plan.

And then last year happened, days of heavy rains, large-scale destructions, thousands of deaths. However to call it nature’s fury would be naïve, last year was a man-made disaster in equal measure. We became victims of short sighted, half-baked development projects-Tehri dam, large-scale residential construction in eco-sensitive zones, greedy commercialization of religious pilgrimage and absence of any backup plans for a natural disaster.

I saw the ravages of last year and the current onslaught of the rains as we drove along the twisted-turning hilly road from Haldwani to Nainital.  We passed by broken roads, partially blocked roads and impatient people. Despite the sight of the lush green, the general air of apathy agitated me. The critical part of me could not shake off the thought: “Things seem to move backward here..”. Is it just the realist part of me questioning the status quo or am I enamored with the developed world and so critical of my modest pahad?

California, Nevada, Pacific Northwest USA:

California Coast: Brown hills with ridges sculpted by the whimsical winds and patches of stunted trees hurdled together in trenches. The restlessly beautiful waters, the splash of colors at sunset, the joy of taking the less-travelled secret hidden roads and discovering small cozy houses or lavish large ranches in the hills.

Nevada: Brown barren mounds of dusty hills, some had random single English letters etched upon them. This barren monotony was occasionally interrupted by pockets of sudden greens and flowing streams

Sequoia National park:Dusty brown hills with withered brown vegetation, sightings of burnt tinder and warnings of forest fires. Then after you climb 3000ft above sea level, the landscape changes completely, the hills became verdant green. These hills are home to some of the tallest trees in the world- Sequoia trees. You also find the sun at its playful best here, playing hide and seek with you and staging multiple ‘sun-sets’ as you climb down the hill.

Pacific northwest coast:Dark blue hills at a distance separated from land by water bodies, floating white clouds over the hills, tourists flocking with camera's to capture the colorful totems of the Red Indians along the waterfront..

When I drove along the US west coast soaking in the beauty, I was completely at peace, not a bit agitated by anything. The only distraction was the question of where to stop and eat (so many choices) first world problem!

It’s a familiar story you leave a loved one behind to meet new people. You see the idiosyncrasies and struggles of the old world in sharp contrast to the convenience and simplicity of living in the new world. You come back to the old world, only to find it encumbered in the old struggles. You look into the shriveled face of the loved one, the sunken cheeks smiling a shy toothy smile to welcome you.. You try to muster the humility to embrace him with the same warmth without the arrogance of judgment but it’s a labored effort.. Its not how it should be..

Then magically from somewhere the white Monsoon fog descends upon the hills, it hides everything from sight- everything visible to judgmental eyes- it conceals all the colors in its white embrace; the only sound is the falling rain. I stand at my balcony, stretch out my hands to feel the raindrops and in that moment of complete peace, I am finally home to the Monsoons in Nainital..