Yesterday I had an epiphany about man’s eternal pull to the mountains. It was triggered, fittingly, by the words of a Bhutanese landscape planner on Youtube. He reinforced something already felt in the deep dormant layers of my own knowing, never quite fully understood and owned, unsaid by me so far.
The man from Bhutan talked about how he can never fully physically feel at home anywhere else the way he does in his mountain kingdom. That the body makes its home as a part of the physical landscape and sometimes so does our soul. And how mountains, to his mind, did this precisely because of what seems their distancing features.
While they are no doubt difficult to get to, and beset with a lot of natural extreme conditions and access problems, it is these very qualities of impregnability that lend a sense of a charmed, protected and even secure sense of self to those who live in the cradle of the high peaks. I was pulled back to just such a discovery I and a friend had shared, years ago, to our own surprise. We were on a long road journey in the relatively remote and wild Central Himalayas, driving down to the plains through high, rugged peaks on roads that on one side hugged steep slopes going up and on the other side ended in deep and sharp drops into a raging river below. Tough as the terrain was, we found ourselves in a sort of flow after a while, and the winding road and the constant turns of the wheels became nearly as normal and natural to us as our breathing. We were one with the land, with the road and with the journey, and it was a happy time.
Then after a whole day’s drive, the road stopped curving quite so much and started stretching out straight in front of us. The cliffs and drops on our sides gave way to small mounds and rocks and then endless vistas of flat green and brown and man made blocks placed together. Almost at the same time, my friend and I looked at each other and wondered aloud, that though the driving was now easy, what was this odd sense of loss, a sense of being adrift that we were experiencing?
What we felt missing was the physical embrace, the cradling, the scaffolding of the ever-present looming massive bulk of earth, the rock solid presence of those peaks, and not just the beauty, not just the grandeur and snowy brilliance or the verdant bounty of the mountains.
Listening to the Youtube recording, I heard the landscape design expert say that for him and his country folks, the terrain of their mountain kingdom was their biggest source of sustenance and SECURITY! And he further went on to say that those mountains were indeed the protectors of the people in a very real physical sense in olden times, and today the culture still sees them as such. Well, I say !! This was just so like what I had felt – that the mountains were somehow holding us safe, enclosed, enfolded, with all their curves and highs and recesses and valleys, and when we reached the plains we were left wide open and on our own – so distant from the large, benign, overarching physically powerful entities that are the mountains.
I wonder if any of you have also felt this way, or feel a connection with what I am saying. The mountains, to me seem to be about arriving, settling in, and falling into rhythm. They are about being rooted, about being one with something solid and unconquered and perhaps never fully conquerable. They are also about a certain surrender, a certain acceptance. They are saying, like little else can, that this is it, this is here, this is now.
So tell me, do you feel that any place, any physical landscape that pulls us, pulls us for a similar reason, or is the pull of every kind of landscape feature a random matter of simple sensual or sensorial appeal? What would those of you say who love heading out to the sea rather than the mountains? For me, the sea is all about another kind of a trance, about losing sense of time and boundaries. It is about being literally, adrift. The mountains are all about being rooted. Present. Is it the same for some of you, and how is it different for others? Do keep the thoughts flowing…..
For me the sea gives a perfect sense of calmness & entropy at the same time… There might be millions of things deep down in the sea… flora and fauna… but on the surface it looks so steady and calm… At the same time the sea can be devastating during the time of a storm or tornado…
I do firmly believe that we have connections to certain landscapes… Although we might be unaware of those connections…
Only when we experience the aura of that landscape …we come to know about the special unexplained connection
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Yes, Atul. The connection is unconscious at first, and if we let ourselves be more open, it comes into our awareness more and more fully. Thanks for reading and thanks for writing in. Wishing you much time by the sea!
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kiranchaturvedi ,this is to your question on buying a DSLR – I had used a camera similar to what you have , only thing its a sony , same thing only could not change the lens – I think it depends on the use, I found the DSLR giving a lot more possibilities with adjusting the light but changing the lens when needed took some getting used to . I don’t know if you bought one yet though 😛 .
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Hi! I did buy a hybrid and haven’t felt the need to move further to a dslr. Thanks for your reply. I missed replying earlier.
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I guess I know , I was recently on a road trip and though I had my DSLR with me , I noticed that I used my Hybrid more than the dslr .. infact only used the dslr once the batteries on my hybrid ran out 😛
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See:)
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what camera model and make do you have ?
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Canon Power Shot SX40. quite old. Quite excellent results for zoom with birds and in all sorts of light.
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I’m sure there are faint traces of a certain place deep inside our DNA that are stirred when you travel there. Great article though I wish it had been a shade longer
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Traces of a place in our DNA! I love the thought of that. Stirring of all sorts of possibilities in that idea.
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And thanks so much for reading
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