The Jeep crossed the bridge, and the driver negotiated with the steep uphill curves with ease. In less than 10 minutes, I was standing at the entrance of the route. The Ganga river flowed with elegance on my right, and a few houses stood close to it on the banks of the river. To the other side of the bank, the mountains towered. The peaks hid behind the clouds, and from the peak at many places, waterfalls emerged looking as if they were coming from the sky. Birds cooed and pruned their feathers. Some of them were flying very high, close enough to touch the peaks. The road to Ghangaria certainly looked like the one to a paradise.
Birds always evoke a pang of jealousy in me – They have wings of freedom – to fly wherever they wish to. Soaring high is such a liberating feeling. Isn’t it?