Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it…

As I walked with a group of BTDT members on a wet rainy morning to an almost obscure temple of Sura Devi, nestling among the forest of sal trees in Rajpur, Dehradun, Sarah Kay’s words flashed on mind. I was as wet as anyone could get with an umbrella, which offered a modest protection only, for the monsoon rains can permeate even rocks, they are that stubborn!

Walking on the track, blanketed with withered brown and yellow leaves, trying my best to dodge water puddles, I resigned after a few minutes seeing that puddles had colasced into small streams thus, either I could keep fighting a lost battle or let the rains rule the route. 

The walk began from the Vivekanand Baori Temple, yes, there is a reason Uttarakhand is called Dev Bhoomi- temples are as ubiquitous as momo stalls here.

Mr. Abhai Mishra, the group leader, stopped to brief the walkers at different points about the history of the places with stories that define them. The derelict bridge, a  remnant of the fractured project of the English to connect Mussoorie and Dehradun via rails; the falling temple, which has yet to find its God or the temple of Sura Devi, with inscription in Urdu identifying the patron, but in need of a priest. 

Mr. Mishra had many interesting anecdotes to share- from the times of Vivekanand, the Britishers and the simple villagers who visited or lived in the hills, an era back… All that made me look at the places around me with a renewed look, for who knew in which dimensions those bygone spirits or souls were lurking! 

And the trees…Eckhart Tolle’s words echoed among them: Seek out a tree and let it teach you stillness. 

The rains did wash away the lethargy and impressions that adhere to body and soul like a clinging vine, but didn’t wash away everything, the memories are intact- of the walkers around me soaking in the nature and clicking pictures to validate their presence in the sal forests, of the little temple with its gates covered with red entreaties and of the youngsters and the old ones alike- picking up trash left carelessly and irresponsibly on the track…kudos to them! 

As I walked back, I noticed a walker enjoying raindrops falling softly on her, although she had an umbrella.

‘The rains are so refreshing in this area of the city…I don’t mind them,’ Arpita said with the enthusiasm of a child and the wisdom of a sage. 

Back in my home,  with a cup of tea to warm up my spirits, I say a small prayer to thank- the trees, the rains, the walkers (though strangers, yet together in the wandering), and feel grateful for all the stories which were left without endings, for such stories give me hope that life goes on…rain or shine.