Mountains themselves have an identity of their own. Some of them are pretty warm, covered with green, looking happy and prosperous. Others however are just rocks, intimidating and angry, like their beauty has withered away with time. Some are pure white, beautiful like a baby, untouched by worldly beasts. They stand like a fort that never fell.
Then there are lonely stretches on mountains where there is not a living soul for miles around. There are places where landslides have occurred, mountains look like an amputated person with an arm or a leg missing, standing there aimlessly, fed up with life, watching your every move, assessing your intent.
There are deep ravines below for some of these stretches. One can see water gushing with a mighty force, shearing the rocks and making its way. Looking at the mighty mountains, ravines, gorges and river, one realizes how insignificant we are when compared against nature. And these are the places where you leave your life in the hands of the driver. “I will meet you one day”. Death is honest with Life. One wrong move of driver and no one will notice.
City life has made things easier for us where we think man has more control, but here on mountains, we have very little. A small slip, a little more to the left or right and that’s it, you know its the end.
There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen to it. Its not the mountains we conquer, but ourselves.