एक मंज़िल थी, कुछ रंग मिला..
खुद को ही खुद का संग मिला..
भटक भटक कर जाना था..
और रस्ता मस्त मलंग मिला..

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Accept...












Not All Walk Up,
Keeping their Head looking Downwards,

Seems Neck too tend,
to bend,
Upwards automatically When Hiking,
and looks like,
that might be the
Most Comfortable Pose for
Neck and Themselves...

It's choice thing,
We are no one to Judge...

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No fighting, no Striking, no biking, no Miking
Just hiking... 😂😂😂😂😂

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Hiking and Trekking is a Psychophysical activity
in tandem with Sociocultural political pursuitivity

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A stroll along the brook..
The night calm and beautiful,
the clouds wander the moonlit sky,
night blooming flowers spread fine fragrance,
undulating water caresses the feet,
zephyr passes over making a soft quiver,
the spirit of bliss pervades the mind.

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s'arrêter de promener,
regarder autour de nous,
embrasse de l'œil
la longue chaîne des collines,
des plaines, des forêts
que nous avons traversées.

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You and I holding tight
Brisk breath and heated smile
Dark night and glazing sky
Twisting with hopes
We touched those peaks
On that risky mountain
Just to see the beautiful sky

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Dear ‘Hitch’-Hiker,
It is raining right now. The kind of rain that urges one to run out and smear themselves with it. That which is wistful and relays a broadcast of messages to either the heart or the brain, but nevertheless ends up tearing you down. The unpredictable kind, of your ilk. Aaron called me up for the nature club video conference. He wants to have a discussion in order to hold a réunion, and also, an induction for new members. I am glad new people are joining. You know Aaron loves chatting. He said he'd want me to be a part of this one for old times' sake. I am averse to the kind of conferences he enjoys. The club was only an opportunity for me to exchange views with fellow hikers and a chance to see the world with you. I politely declined. That way, I could avoid being dishonest, without warranting any pretentiousness.
I write this from next to the flowerpots. I have a leaf pressed between my fingers. It fell off the white rose shrub. Do you remember having pricked your index finger with its thorn? That is what I felt when I was invited to the conference in your absence—a prick in my heart, only that it hurt a tad more.

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Every morning that I see you,
My heartbeats flutter and freeze
Like that when a weary hiker spots
A snow clad peak among the tall fir trees .

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A couple, drenched in love
Helped each other to reach the cliff
Though she complaint the whole way up
and down but refused
to be helped by others.
She only wanted him
to save her
if she falls.
❤

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