Monday, 22 July 2013


I pulled the stole closer to my body to wrap it around my 

hunched shoulders, the fabric refused to co-operate and 

stretches no further, and am left with no other option but to 

blow air into my cupped palms. But the result is only a mild 

upward rising chain of smoke as if I am puffing a ciggi. The 

cool air even in the month of May caresses my cheeks and 

pampers me. Back in Mumbai the artificial cooling system 

overworks around the clock to keep me cool. This was a 

welcome break. In my school days,  Mehta Sir, my geography 

sir had taught us that the green hills  were the lungs of  Planet 

Earth. Indeed they are. I could fill my lungs with fresh 

unpolluted air and feel it percolate down my system 

rejuvenating my worn-out tired body. As I strolled lazily

 along the bends , the high green canopy shielded me 

from the stingy pale sun rays that were vying for attention 

in the otherwise cloudy atmosphere. The melody of the

rustling and swaying  leaves interacting with its neighbours 

gave me company. The wild flowers perched on 

the high hills, blooming in different hues and shapes were a 

visual treat to my eyes and the breeze wafted the scent of 

the flora , invading my nostrils, detoxified my mind, body 

and spirit. The leisurely walk had lubricated every joint in 

my body . I turned around  to return to the guest-house 

when hubby returned from his training programme. He 

asked me if I had been to the spa down the hill. I raised my 

eyebrows. He winked and complimented me on the glow on 

my cheeks.

I nodded. He said that it must have cost me a fortune. I

smiled and said that I had left my purse  safe in the guest-

house. The good things in life are not expensive. Thank you