Author: Neha Dhami

  • the hills

    an upside down ‘w’ was all I knew
    as a little kid drawing dreams on plain whites
    I belong to the hills
    I said every time I was asked about my origin
    my body was born in the plains
    but my heart emerged from the mountains

    I remember my infantile journey to the hills through photographs
    speeding through the meandering mountain roads in my mum’s lap
    getting washed in the cold fern- adorned springs
    and seeing my paternal grandma after a long nap
    saw her playing with me under the bright sunny sky
    then I grew up and never got to see her smile

    last summer I saw my ancestral house in all its beauty
    up on a hill, hidden in the trees
    wrinkled white walls with blue window sills
    the slate tiled roof overlooking fields of green and blue hills
    and silently pouring out smoke at night from its belly
    years of toiling, this is where my father came to be

    there’s something about Kumaon
    I’ve only seldom explored its secrets
    but each time its breeze graces my face
    it feels as if I’ve spent my lifetime here
    happily breaking my body growing up
    learning the way of life and becoming wiser

    skies look different from here, prettier
    stars seem closer and brighter
    winds are gentle yet they awaken the soul
    rivers run wild like ancient scrolls
    humans are humble and animals free
    as I grow older I hope the hills remain forevermore the harbinger of peace

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