Of mountains and molehills

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“Life sucks”, I said to myself one day when I couldn’t find my keys. Why wouldn’t certain people not let the keys be where they are ? So what if I find some place on an empty floor the best place for the keys rather than the key hanger. At least, they are always conspicuous on the floor rather than the key hanger with at least 3 sets looking very similar. “Everyday, its sucks at about this time”, I muttered. “It’s a set of keys, it’s not the end of the world”,dad yelled back.
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In a world that’s used to making mountains out of molehills, I stand out. I refuse to accept the existence of molehills. Mine’s made of mountains, larger mountains and an irritating intuition that there isn’t anything called a largest mountain. If there is, it’s because I am myopic and cannot see beyond a certain point. The question though, is whether they can all be scaled. When in doubt, I wonder if those that have been climbed are the ones that are slightly larger than hills and just fall short of being a mountain. Standing constantly at the foot of a maze of mountains, walking always beside the foot of these mountains, each of them being taller than the next gives you a feeling of being sucked all the time. The clouds seem the same size, the sun continues to furrow its brow, concentrating on dehydrating you, mercilessly towering over you. I walk feeling further away from the clouds that seem so cool, from the birds that aren’t stopped by the mountains, from trees that seem to be able to hold their own on rocky terrain, and I alone am sucked down and stuck on the ground.

I must learn to climb, I tell myself. I look back and see a few of them that I’ve already climbed and I am forced to wonder if I did actually only have to hop over them. Then I look ahead and see that what’s in front of me cannot be hopped over. Gingerly I lay one foot on the mountain finding refuge in the thought that if I fall, the hurt and the pain will be insignificant. Then I lay another foot, knowing that this time I musn’t fall. The way up seems less dangerous than a fall down. Few steps later, the sun continues to be relentless. I look up daringly, refusing to squint, all the time wishing that the cloud will move over and offer me shelter, or that a tree will bend over and give me its shade. If blinding light is any comfort at that time, it is only because I know the night will be scarier. I inch upwards, cursing myself for being foolishly brave, and then scolding myself for being the coward , wanting every force in nature to help me.

I look around and see that everything around me isn’t making an effort. The ants move up effortlessly. The eagles constantly soar down not paying much thought to the fact that every sweep downwards will mean a tough flight upwards. The mountains stand there oblivious to the discomfort that they’re causing. Everything else is oblivious to the discomfort that they constantly have to bear. I alone, seem to think that everything there was there with the sole purpose of making my journey harder and my final destination a blur. I alone seem to think that even when I reach the peak, it’ll be everything I can do just to stay there.

Then I find a rock in the shade below a tree, that I admit must be a freak accident of nature, that I would be a fool not to take advantage of. As I sit on it, a wind blows and the trees part to reveal a stream. I wonder if it’s a mirage, but while my eyes can deceive my ears do not. I hear a noise that will eventually be understood as a melody of sorts. I walk towards and bend down and drink the water. I look forward and see the sun setting between two mountains and the glimpse of the stars hiding shyly behind the clouds.

I cannot see my way any longer but I can hear my beckoning. I can hear the gushing of the stream that will lead me to the peak, where I’ll be in time for a new dawn and a new day- a day when the sun will treat me like he treats everyone else, a day when eagles dip down not because they are conceding defeat, but so that they may fly higher. As I sit there, I will make molehills out of mountains, looking straight ahead where I can, and wondering what lies beyond when another mountain stands ready to be scaled.

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“Ah ! Found it” I yelled with inappropriate excitement. “Looks like today won’t be a bad day after all”
As I start my scooter, my mother asks me “ are your brakes working ?”
“Not yet mom, but thanks to the potholes and illegal speedbreakers, I don’t miss them”
In the distance I saw a speedbreaker. “No one’s going to get hurt”, I declared optimistically. At least, not on this bright sunny day.

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