Page 24 - Musings 2021
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The View from the Bottom
Atmesh Mahapatra
2019B4A30560P
Now I am seated in a cosy hillside cottage,
With warm beds and a hot chocolate cup.
Sitting, I wonder,
Where have the childhood days gone?
Where there was the excitement of the climb,
The tingling cold that would penetrate my jacket
The fine snow, that I cannot touch, yet feel through
My gloves,
The fresh smell of the montane forests,
The sight of the town at my feet.
Little did I know of the perils of a real climb?
With childhood innocence, I walked into a trap,
Expecting freedom from the arbitrary ceiling
That the critics have set.
Often, I think, I belong to the warm beaches
Often, I feel, I belong to the safe farmlands
Often, I believe, I belong anywhere but the climb.
Amidst the exhaustion from the rest,
I open the window to the Everest,
Where he stands proud and tall,
From whom many would try, many would fall
The blinding reflection of the sun
Smirking at my failed attempts,
But laughing harder at my cowardice to stay away,
Challenging me to attempt again.
What if I scale it?
What if I don’t?
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