In the winds of Himalayas

Dear diary

I loved the Himalayas since I was a kid. It always fascinated me, there was a different vibe I used to get from these mountains. They were tall, gigantic, and handsome like me. I know you must be thinking that I am crazy for comparing myself with the Himalayas, but these mountains do relate to me. People always get bored of the chilly winds and frosting snow, but I never displeased it. The chilly winds gave me comfort and a sense of true worth, which I found impossible to find amidst this chaotic world.

Life once again has brought me to rethink my future. The future was shattered by someone who was going to spend the future with me. I never thought Anjali would cheat on me. But she did, which I could not handle. I felt a coldness from her which I never felt from you.

So, dear Himalayas I coming in your lap for the peace you give to my soul.

                                                                                       Yours faithfully

                                                                                             Divyansh

I know you may be laughing at me right now. A question too might have popped in your head, who does write a letter to the Himalayas?

I do write for them, but never post them because it's not about sending, it's all about feeling the emotions that I sustain within me. From a very young age, I had trust issues with people, it's not that I fancied it within me. From time to time people ensured that I was right to not trust them. But I had emotions to share, so I found a true friend, the Himalayas. I would write my life, my aspiration, my dreams, and problems to it. It was not for them but indirectly it was for me.

I called my friend and told him to keep the cabin booked for me. It is the right opportunity to spend a few days in the lap of the beautiful mountains.

I walked out of my room with a backpack on my shoulders. It had a few sweaters, mufflers, and socks. My mother watched me with teary eyes but did not dare to stop me. I walked out of the main door, which was decorated for the arrival of the bride, but alas everything puffed away in these past few hours.

‘Anjali weds Divayansh’ was written on the rear windshield of the car. It was too much for me to take now, I flung my backpack on the ground and frantically started to search for an object to break it. I found a steel rod and smashed on it, everyone came out of the house running. But I did not stop, I continuously smashed until it had shattered into million pieces. My mother was sobbing aloud telling me to stop but now nothing was stopping me.

I landed in Himachal Pradesh, the air hostess welcomed me, but I gawked at her. I was not happy, it's not that I was feeling this sadness, because my marriage broke but a strange sadness always had gulped my heart. I wanted to free them or myself.

I reached the lodge where my friend was waiting for me, I know he will shower me with emotions and kindness. He was standing at the gate of the hotel with a box of warm thumpkas for me. He rushed towards me, and choked me with his warm hug, and started consoling me, which I had predicted in my mind.

We reached my room where I flung my shoes on the bed and threw the blanket on the floor. I was feeling frustrated minute by minute and I wanted solace in the mountains.

“ Divyansh think about it again. It's cold outside, it drops to -10 degrees at night, there will be no electricity, internet or phone service. How will you manage yourself?” Raj said.

“Don’t worry about me, I will be fine.” my mind was bustling with a thousand emotions right now, which would finally stop in the Himalayas.

He left, I munched down on the thumpkas and got ready for the final journey.

The cabin was nice, it had a beautiful oak wood floor with rosewood furniture and a nice fireplace.

It was just the way I had imagined. In this Himalayan region, due to strong chilly winds and heavy snow falling the technology could not survive. It was built for a summer escape, but surviving the winter here was not an easy task.

On the table were an inkpot and a bunch of handmade paper. It was the only thing I required. I thought of meditating, in our ancient scriptures Himalayas were the best place for self-realization. I sat down in the meditation asana, closed my eyes, and focused on my breath.

After a few hours, my concentration broke due to the sobbing sound of my own. While meditating, I hit to all the closed memories that I never expressed to myself.

I wiped my frozen tears and lit the fireplace.

It was dark outside, but the darkness inside me was over thriving.

I took out the pen from the case and filled it with ink. I layered myself with half a dozen sweaters and sat down at the table in front of the blank paper.

What does a writer with a broken heart do? I addressed poems and letters to Anjali, who did not care about me anymore.

I wrote her a bunch of letters, spilling my emotions about her action. But what was the use, will she even read it if I send it to her.

I threw them in the fireplace and felt a sense of relief while watching them burn.

I could not control my emotions any longer and remove the cyanide capsule from my coat pocket.

It needed to end soon.

I found myself waking to the noises outside the cabin at my door.

2 years later {at a ted X event}.

“Since I am in front of you, so the answer is I did not eat capsule,” I said with glee in my eyes.

The audience erupted with laughter.

“Yes, I ended something in the Himalayas. I ended the insecure Divyansh there, I ended the introvert and doubtful Divyansh. I ended the guilt of Divayansh.”

I paused, gulped down my tears, and continued.

“My life could have been worse if I did not dare to accept my sadness. In the 15 days when I was living in the cabin, I wrote my first book dedicated to my first lover, the Himalayas. I never thought that my book would be loved by thousands of readers, I never thought that it will be published in print due to readers' demand, I never thought that I would talk in front of 300 hundred people about my life. I did it all because I buried my insecurities in the Himalayas itself. Hence I urge you to bury your insecurities and yourself out from the shell that we are hiding in.”

All I could listen to was the eruption of clapping from the audience.