How we became half our age
As inviting as it might sound, it wasn’t an inch of it to them. To them, it was nothing but a time. Time, separated by the time of the daily, the time of the world.
He and she were happy to see each other, moreover to travel with each other, furthermore to be unknown to what’s coming on the travel, together.
Togetherness and travel, ignites the best connection in humans. Makes us feel ancestral.
They met, among a huge lot. Exchanged greetings, avoiding the huge lot. And started, together, with the huge lot.
Swinging in the lorry, standing on the edge, trying to engage small talks. It’s good to see you again, she thought, Hi, she said. Which he replied evenly. How are you, he asked, it’s good to get back, thought he. Time passed, self comfort arrived, so did the base camp.
Little did they knew, the time spent there doing nothing, will be the time they will dread for. Not for the purpose of getting some good time together, that would be so cliché, wouldn’t it.
The start was good, the mountain seemed high, the climb, was easy, so far. It was just a walk in the park. Although, the park was a forest with on and off rains, slippery mud and slime everywhere.
He asked for her backpack, suddenly when he remembered she has pain in her ankles. She gave it to him, making a deal that we will keep exchanging the pack, whenever we felt tired. He agreed. She felt tired, in 10 minutes. He felt fresh, because of the air obviously. He was not in the frame of mind to understand why’s she is pleading to quit. Which he sportingly denied, providing a completely useless motivating smile saying, no going back now.
They continued, each step heavier than before, each climb higher than before. It was just a simple slope made upon which were the stone steps, which they had to climb for the initial one hour.
15 minutes passed, he was out of breath. She was sweating like an athlete. Captain, they both asked, how much more to climb. Captain seemed very comfortable, in his woolen like beard, military bag, heavy shoes, a constant open mouth, he used to smile and breathe both. Also he had a very bad sense of humor, when he said, only 3 hours more, easy one isn’t it. Little did he knew, we were not taking his words in the manner he invited us to.
It was so painful to keep climbing for am hour to listen we only are left with the double of the time we have just spent, to reach the top. They started to become comfortable with the effort now. Taking usual water stops, then the ORS water stops, then the breathing control stops, then the leg pain have to sit down stops. Somewhat good were the singing with the birds stop and looking at the clouds right beside us racing to the same place stops. None of them wanted to get back now. What both had in common, was to finish what we have started. Just like kids have the feeling, when they make a silly drawing, which makes no sense, but it’s something, which when finished, gives an immense satisfaction of doing what we wanted to do. The painting was the mountain, and the paint brush were their legs.
I want to pee now, she said, I already peed before the start, he responded. Wanna sit between the bushes, he asked, which fed nothing but silence. They both knew that they were not trash talking, but just talking. It’s like it became very easy to convert every feeling and expression into words, which was taken exactly as served. No salt and pepper, proved to be a healthy diet for the ears and the mind.
The rest was nothing but, more of rock climbing, awkward position holds so we don’t slip and die, stupid self challenges, 80 degree vertical staircase and nothing to grip the earth under their shoes. But for a relief, they reached the top.
And the top was not just for the mountain or the so called fort. Although the fort was nowhere to be found, except for some rocks laid like it used to be a stone wall. There was more, with more climbing. But none of both felt it’s any worth to suffer more for just a single broken walk, with a couple of holes which were the door and a window on it.
So they laid on the grass, hung on cliffs, took photographs to share the feeling of adventure and sudden death, shivered in the rain and gave lousy introductions to the huge lot of 40 companions.
I am getting married. He congratulated her. When it’s gonna happen, he inquired. This year end, she responded. They both didn’t care what they talk about, as long as they talk with each other. And quite positively, this togetherness has no name, no purpose, no identity. It’s just spending time together doing the things they both liked. They both realized, but didn’t show, how similar they both are. They both even were gonna die from the same slippery grass once, as they jokingly decided to take a detour, but they lived. They lived, only to die from the descending again.
Their rate of coming down was a good 50 meter lower, with every 10 meter looking straight from the eye level. Even faster were the rate of their words now.
Give me your hand. Hold me. Take my support. This and like this was all he kept on saying in the initial parts, which she denied with silent words, but with loud face saying, I don’t need all this. He didn’t feel bad, he felt good. Why are you so adamant, he asked, which was rude, despite knowing the answer.
She was very polite and true, both in words and expressions. I don’t want support unless I feel I need it. And true to that, she herself asked for his hand whenever she needed him. He felt better, to support a woman, a strong independent and self made girl, in times of needs. She said, I have become this after my father. I had to and I don’t regret it. He is very poor in taking a talk forward after any mention of death, of a known person. He fell silent. Then asked, when did it happen. 4 years back. He couldn’t ask anything more.
They continued. Somehow, same things and feelings to both of them. Before and even now. They both had useless shoes, both were calculating taking every step, like they were calculating the millionth decimal of ‘pi’ and both were the last of the lot, again. They slipped one after the other. She slipped a lot more. It’s in my stars, she said. He nodded.
Once, she said, she and one old friend were walking, on a very normal plain pathway. And she out of nowhere fell so weirdly that she was on her knees. She had to explain for an hour to the old friend that she was not rehearsing a proposal, but it’s just in her stars.
Maybe your brain just cannot calculate the proper weight distribution and balance and momentum, he suggested, as an answer from the stars. But he immediately felt, sarcasm kicking in, so he didn’t bring it up again. She was anyway so convinced with her own beliefs, she didn’t mind his suggestion and the mockery.
Halfway down, they were double the dead, more than just broken, exhausted and on the verge of having a nervous breakdown with all the million calculations before taking every next step down. She was standing, exhausted, and standing doing nothing, she fell exact down on the rock, she bounced a bit. Her brain did the mistake again. She busted into a huge laughter, he did too, at the same time. I fell so stupid, she thought. You had a stupid fall, he said. And they laughed louder and harder amidst the silence of the forest and the birds.
They started back again, holding hands, not to support each other this time, not to hold each other even. But for some reason, they held hands just like kids do, when they go to school, holding hands, that we are going together. That’s it simple as simplicity and innocence can be. He moved forward, she slowed a bit. He suddenly turned, walked back. She, puzzled to know why, stood there. He hugged her. She didn’t hug him back, she was still in the puzzlement. He released her and continued the walk again.
What happened, she asked. I don’t have many friends for me, he answered. And I know I have you too now, he continued, with relief and peace of mind. She smiled at him, answering everything at once. He felt blessed to have a friend like her in her life. And they, together again, continued.
It wasn’t long before they both slipped, broken toes, twisted ankles, bruised palms, talked a lot more; but reached the bottom again. He separated himself, went to the waterfall. She didn’t join, she had all her toes broken. None of them didn’t mind this, they did, whatever suited them best. Then met again, at the base camp.
They bid farewell, but no goodbye’s, to rejoin the time of the daily again, to rejoin the usual world.
