Journal, Pen

Searching for the Roots – 2 : Still Some Hope

I was panting and my dog was still sniffing around every second bush, to spray his presence over them. I saw that episode on National Geographic in which they showed how lions spray their urine to mark their territory. It might be similar in case of dogs but not the same. Have you ever seen a group of dogs engrossed in a never-ending process of “pissing-sniffing-again pissing”? If they were marking their territory that way, the last dog would never let the next dog take a leak. Imagine if ancient emperors marked their territories this way, there would be no bloodbath but…

Something made my inductive process of thoughts, which was heading to the verge of nonsense, snap. It was beautiful, even after so many years it hasn’t changed a bit. I took few steps forward and moved my hands from my waist to my forehead to wipe away the sweat and then to guard my eyes from the setting sun. It was about to drop behind the curtains of thick alpine trees on the mountains. My mouth was open throughout the magical event. The last rays grazed the top of mountain and sank deep down. I turned my head towards the mountains on my side and saw the sunlight slowly creeping to the top. Reminded me of the time when I used to chase it, compete with the boundary of light and dark region. I smiled and shook my head with a nostalgic laugh.
There was the old and tallest alpine tree, still standing proudly. But it was the first time I noticed its beautiful features and talked to it. I asked,”How have you been, Sir?”, touched its tough bark and sat under it, gazing down at the national highway where those tail-lights of fast-moving vehicles were outlining the human breach into the nature. I sighed and looked for my dog. He was still sniffing bushes. Maybe one is still left unmarked. Maybe, there is still some hope.

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