The topic of my story is... Disclaimer : This is not a journal. Neither it’s a guide for the travelers. This is a story for the one who longs for adventure. It’s a tale of two friends on a journey. We are at around 14000 ft above sea level. It’s nearly midnight and we are driving through a dense cover of clouds. Actually, my friend is driving. I am just sitting in the passenger seat, wrapped up in a blanket looking at the road. Or what seems to be the road. The clouds condenses on the wind screen of our car and changes into rain. The fog is so thick that it’s hard to see anything beyond a few feet. The road is no ordinary road. It’s the highest paved international mountain road of the world. There is absolutely no barrier to one side and a sheer rock wall to the other. It’s scary, like being in a scenic nightmare. But, I’m too tired and sick to feel scared anymore. At the highest point of the pass we stop at the check post to cool down the brakes. My friend goes to take a leak an
Retrospection It pleads, it calls, it shouts and wails Till all I can hear is a faint hoarse, a whisper and nothing more The calling continues The first step Uncertain and confusing, yet natural and instinctual Glancing to seek that nod of approval To go forth and leap into an endless abyss Covered with a dark veil of traditional dubiety The serenity underneath was left unexplored Chaos, abruptness, anxiety and stress My faithful comrades left me alone The path is thorned, unlit and slender But with a torch in hand the next step is clearer It's hard to move forward, if one tries to run And easy to walk, If steps are none, but one Reflection Beware of comfort, fairs and beauty For they can lead even the teachers astray O Reader! Read and memorize Climb is hard the summit, a reward The dive, easy But the flight, death ............. . . . . . . Onion