Trekking Through the Park

As I took a step into the place I loved the most, but this was in an area I had never seen before, an area I had never been to before. Nonetheless it still had my heart, it still made me feel at peace, it still felt mine.

I take a deep breath and take in the beautiful, crisp, fresh air. Probably the only place in this city where you can enjoy pristine, clean air, that fills you with you joy.

Though you can hear crackers in the distance, you know it will never disturb the pristine nature you are in. And you are happy it’s far, far, away.

The smell of wet grass fills my lungs, intoxicating me, taking me high. And no, before you assume me to be smelling another kind of grass, I would never permit myself to pollute myself with it.

The sun has been kind, and not harsh, and creates perfect picture postcard moments as it burst through trees, illuminating our path. Causing the grass to glisten from the dew that settled on it.

As I trudge along the kaccha road, along with my fellow trekkers, many of whom I have greeted a number of time during my run in the park, but who were now my fellow trekkers.

We trudge along the route, occasionally stopping to form a circle and hear what Srini sir has to say, a speech, a message he has delivered a numerous time but one that always remains poignant and important on how we are blessed to have a green lung within our city, how now, more than ever, we need to protect it from the greed of men.

You also learn about a beautiful soul, Machindra, who from his own experiences and struggles, has been striving to uplift his little community, give them the resources and life that he didn’t have, that he had to work hard for, with the support of many generous souls, some who were with us.

As you walk over kaccha roads, trails, and dried up stream beds, you wonder if you are being watched  by the original inhabitants of the park, to whom the park rightfully belonged, and we in a way were trespassing on their territory. You wonder if they were observing you from the trees and grasses.

You continue to walk, discussing every topic under the sun, literally and figuratively. 

Low and behold you reach the small hamlets, after all the detours, and all the pictures you tried to click.

You marvel at the Warli Art that adorns the house. You admire every inch of this beautiful red wall, and the white figures painted on it.

You meet Machindra, who’s truly a beautiful soul, a son of the soul. Humble, kind and dedicated, working tirelessly for the upliftment of his people.

You snack on the wonderful Diwali faral laid before you, and pour over the albums that the villagers have shared.

You visit the study area that has been built for the children, marvelling at the artwork created by the children, which is beautiful, and I would not be exaggerating if I called it stunning. 

Once again you click a group pic, visit their mandir, which has tree that bears the marks of the original inhabitants.

We say our goodbye with a promise to visit again, and will be back bearing all the supplies that would be needed. 

As you walk back, you can’t help but smile, you can’t help but feel this joy in your heart, you can’t help but feel blessed, hoping you can too, in your own way contribute to help Machindra and his community.

Indeed it was morning well spent, trekking through the park, a walk to remember.