Earlier this month i got back from Kutch where i was journeying with the Kabir Project. Friends old and new. We traveled to the desert in search of sound and we found we found we found.
In this vast, barren land the words of mystic poets are woven into song. Sung by the most fertile hearts. Together we discovered different forms and tongues that all expressed that one universal structure. With searing devotion they spoke one language. That of love. Days turned to nights and skies to stars. We listened to these voices, some hypnotic some bursting. To these crazed hearts seeking the beloved. And the moon shone within our bodies.
At the Hazratbal Mosque in Srinagar it is tradition to feed pigeons. And around feeding time there are so many birds on the buildings around the mosque one would think that they're going to fly away with them. Almost out of a Monty Python film.
When the storm came, there was hail, we were under it and all was ice!
The morning after the storm :)
Back on the lake.
"If there is a paradise, it is here, it is here, it is here."
The next day we decided that we had to go back and then further into the white. This time we were joined by a friend and the walk took us four hours till we stopped. When we did, we were at one of the worlds centers. Here the white snow softened into white clouds and there was no telling where one began and the other ended. We huddled together and the boys lit themselves a spliff. We sat in complete awe. The kind that's demanded when you are in a place that is sacred. Then suddenly a strong wind picked up and the secret universe that we'd found turned darker, as though it was moving across a chess board. The clouds whirled and grew black. And then it began to snow. Now i've only heard that it gets silent when it snows. That's just the beginning. It goes from silence to quiet and everything happens in slow motion, even breathing. To watch snow fall is otherworldly. We were blessed. Then tearing ourselves away from this magical space we walked back as fast as we could. Because the elements are to be respected. We walked over ice and by the time we turned the corner the slow snow had become hard rain, we were no longer in the sky but on the ground and the white giants suddenly seemed like a dream. We smiled at each other because where we'd been was a dream, a real dream.
On reaching Sonmarg my (not so little anymore) brother and i were both swallowed by the wonder that is the mountains. We couldn't believe how close to the sky we were. So for every day that we were there, we went for long walks. Kartikae, to see how far he could go. And i to find a spot in the forest where i could sit down and dissolve. On the first of these walks we chose a path that lead us over the meadows, into the trees and around, towards the next valley. We set out silently, reached the snow and squealed and squelched, then settled back into a meditative rhythm. There was no need for any talking. In about an hour, we were lost and liberated :) Saturated and smiling we collapsed onto the forest bed surrounded by white giants.