My Valley View

The kitchen, as I make the morning tea, in our first floor house, is my first contact with Mother Nature. The early morning darkness just giving way to the first rays of light. The park, across the road is alive with birds chirping in their own characteristic sounds. Its music to the ears. As if God has unleashed a musical extravaganza.
As the day grows, the outline of a Bottle Brush tree starts appearing as also that of a tree called Dhaak in Hindi. Could some one, please tell me what is it called in English.
As I move to our front verandah, the beautiful Shivalik mountains, far away with just a hint of their existence, appear. Their mere presence seems to be telling tales of no limits of the time metric. Do you ever get lost in this seemingly infinite expanse of nothingness? I do.
The nights are even better. The lights on the relatively nearer Mussourie hills are breathtaking. It seems as if the stars are on a visit to our planet. I can’t think of a more romantic setting than this. Me and my mother, my son and his mother finish their dinner under the sky to say good night to each other. A perfect ending for a not so perfect day.
Even as I write this, I have the huge Chakrata hills beckoning over the top of my notebook screen. No wonder this valley, popularly known as the Doon valley, famous for its Basmati rice and schools, is such a major attraction for people seeking a serene life after they have done what is required of them.
I still go to sea to earn a livelihood. I love what I do but it’s so tempting to stretch my vacations here. I have lived all my life here and would love to spend the rest of it here too without complaints.