She Who Is the Earth Remembering Herself There are mornings when the forest holds its breath. On the juncture of the first ray of the sun touching down into the valley when everything is still. Only the birds have just awakened and started their routine chirping. When the pond does not ripple so much as breathe a slow, silver exhaling that has no beginning and no end. When the breeze does not move the trees but moves through them, the way a raga moves through a musician’s li

The sensual flow of her is etched into every twist and turn of the basin. The sculpted path she draws is a silent vow that she will return when the clouds once again lower their heavy gaze upon the earth. When they release their burden, she will dance again.

She walks in the shadows, merging into the forest. All of a sudden, fog descends upon the meadows and hides her from view. She moves like a small rivulet flowing unseen, hidden from everyone’s eyes, deep inside the forest.

यात्रा करने के कारण हमें एक अवसर मिलता है जिससे हम सीख सकते है और उसी के साथ ही अपने अंदर झांक सकते है । महिला यात्रियों के लिए, यह...