She was home

This series  is dedicated some people I love and what defines them..

She was never the kind to appreciate too much physical labor. She believed in the comfort of a book in a nook or a hot mug of drinking chocolate. She couldn’t believe that she had been trekking with very few intermittent breaks for over 14 hours now. She didn’t understand where the energy came from. And even more surprisingly, not once did she complain about the biting cold or the murky soup.

Why would she. She was in paradise- the embodiment of everything beautiful, of utopia and of bliss. The miles and miles of snowcapped mountains around her were more breathtaking than anything she had ever witnessed. She could touch the clouds, she could feel the strong yet loving zephyr brushing her face and making her scarf flutter. She could feel every pore of her body feeling relaxed and at peace.

This place here, she could stay here forever and never want anything else. The beauty of the mountain was that it made her feel tiny and insignificant, but somehow she enjoyed that feeling. The vast expanse of seeming infinity which reminded her that she was part of something bigger.

She breathed in till her lungs were joyfully filled up. She had never thought breathing in itself could be a joyful experience. She watched the setting sun play hide and seek with the clouds, its rays bouncing off the melting snow. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the cold and the exercise; and her lips were chapped. It hurt when she smiled, but she couldn't stop smiling.

She was almost glad that she didn't have mobile coverage here. She didn't need any interruptions while she was on this intimate date with Nature. She wanted to soak in more and more of this unadulterated beauty. She thought of what her definition of beauty had been all her life and laughed at her ignorance.

She was home.