In a few days I leave for Delhi, a city i believe lacks character. It is as if each invader that came in left behind the worst in him. Invaders not necessarily from History. Even my brethren from the north who came looking for a dream are included. Delhi can never be Mumbai, although, Mumbai has its own share of Morons.
I like the Hills!!! Something so special and happening. Even when the rain is pouring down on us like never before. Its nice to be in the quilt of comfort, with yr loved ones rolling around in bed with you. That is why I like the hills.
I also like the hills because I love to fly low in those valleys when ever I get a chance. I have been in valleys where the smoke from the hut told you, the Shepherd is there. How many shepherds from history can one count, who marked time on some mountain, waiting for gods will.
I have seen school children look down at me as my aircraft rushed passed that assembly. The jet sound having long dispersed any trace of a prayer. The kids would run to the edge of the hill as if to keep a date with a secret friend who would come around now and then...flying a fighter they only saw in the torn pages of the schools only book shelf.
I have seen the innocence of a solider standing guard at a post way up in the hills. His Rifle up in a grand salute to this brother who comes and goes once in a while. He wonders whether i have seen him as he salutes my presence. i wonder if he realized that the last roll i did was to acknowledge his salute. See how wonderful the hills are.
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