Bhyundar : A Forgotten Ballad

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The lonely hike has always been a treat to those who gets enriched in lone being. For me, this walk was for my living the lives I have never had, which I seek everytime to empathize in self portrayal. 

Here I name a place which is a song itself. the song of hundreds of rustics, where the lyrics are life and melodies are the breath. I went up to the forested halt, Ghangharia , there I met a girl of substance yet not a pro. But the real reflection and pixels of life was full. That girl took me to a hundred year old story where love resided, lovers lost in non existence. To me it was a long lost tale but for her a life of yesterday. 

There is a village named Bhyundar, which got its name from a folklore which still stays in the Garhwal and its wind, water and hills. The girl was on a regular yearly preparation of a festivity named Nandashtami, the pride of Bhyundar. She waits for her mate to bring those flowers which had a good omen "Bhramhakamal". The village is pouring in the joy of the unity and peacefulness. The lass is sitting by the banks of the Lakshman Ganga, a river which gives all to them and they have never been ungrateful to it. The beauty of the stream could not made her consoled but her eyes were on the slopes from where her man will come.
Joy is to her that , she places her head on his lap, and hum a bit , it was her world , incomparable to the different worlds of luxury. The shower is bringing its zeal to the stream and her heart beats as trembles the body from within. 

Among the clouds and rain shower, from an unseen land, the man comes up with a heap of God's message on his back. This is the most soothing green to her eyes. Tears could burst but the upcoming start ups of festival blushes her out immensely. It is a poem of anthology of Bhyundar. Poetry was there on the eyes of hope and despair, and even in the empty trembling hands of that girl. It is a clear afternoon now, the snows are peeking through the valley sides, this beauty was a familiar treat to the people of Bhyundar, some rejoiced with it, some blamed it for their fate or hardship. 

Beauty of nature has its cost of contradiction, that she knows very well but her mate is on the way to live another life which he has dreamt all over his being. Opinions hardly collide and they merely win in front of the vast love. They go to their home from where one can see that hollow sky with infinite wishes, after preparing things in the "pakka" temple. sitting by the window pane, her man sing the Garhwali song which is being sent to that skyscape of limits and unlimited desires. Hollow sky is not reciprocating , she does not know about that. 

Sleeping on the wooden floor with their hands as the most comfortable pillow, weaving is being completed of their future moments, though they know all are uncertain and even their existence but tangled love which is all over their being is now gasping but  in pleasure. 
A night as dark as the blackhole but not a magnet, is bringing rain into the village, every drop feels so heavy on the positivity. All are trying to make their ways into the chaos of confusion. 
The girl wakes up, and can not see him beside her, she is searching him like lunatic. 


Cries are inferior to the Nature, that gusting wind is making everybody understood of its power of mercilessness. She suddenly looks up to the other side of the river. There she sees him, but Lakshman Ganga and Bhyundar Ganga's confluence washes out every sight she could see. Houses are floating like leaves and dreams too in that water. A sudden silence kill everybody there, and for her , life stops as heart stops for her man.

That night changed everything for her, she became a hollow. Those vast open eyes I could see and could feel. It is never end. like sorrow, happiness too.  Now people go by the prior village and those unseen eyes can not see , and it is not meant to be seen by all, you will see if u seek to . Now she comes to Ghangharia everyday to work for an NGO, Life did not end but a sorrow is living by that stream. 


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