Archive for the ‘Photography’ Tag

“The Haunted Tree Atop The Hill”   10 comments

 

"Fed up with their lives, many disconsolate souls climbed up the hill and threw themselves into the dark ravine down below. Till this point in time, No one has survived." An innocuous evening  stroll in the hill was soon assuming  darker undertones when a chance conversation revealed the lesser known lure of the hills to quench its  blood lust. As I sat down under a tree, I could sense my trains of thought veering into uncharted waters whispering endlessly: "You are nothing but a mangled  heap of unquenchable ambitions strutting around in the guise of blood and flesh! Will now  and here this  ordeal stop? Embark on the path to salvation in front of you and embrace freedom from this worldly bondage!" The seething winds and the numbing cold, the dispassionate rocks and the rustling leaves, the gloomy skies and the lifeless grasses, all came alive and were inciting me to take the last plunge! "Enough!", interrupting my partner without any manner of preamble, I continued: "Let's leave, Its getting darker and will start raining soon...Let's head home." Every stride I took to reach home was  heavy since I was burdened by the crushing  weight of thoughts pertaining about death and  suicide. Breaking the deafening silence lingering  the journey downhill, my accomplice came up with an afterthought: "The legend here is that even though the ones committing suicide die, their souls do not. Their souls, the legend says, migrate into the trees nearby or wander the hill whispering past the visitors abetting them to commit suicide." I turned  around and took a one last look at the tree under which I sat. Amidst the fading sun and orange clouds, the tree looked like the grim reaper revealing his large claws, growing in enormity as darkness enveloped the hills.

“Fed up with their lives, many disconsolate souls climb up the hill and throw themselves into the dark ravine down below. Till this point in time, No one has survived. No bodies have been recovered.” An innocuous evening  stroll in the hill was soon assuming darker undertones when a chance conversation revealed the lesser known lure of the hills to quench its  blood lust. As I sat down under a tree, I could sense my trains of thought veering into uncharted waters whispering endlessly: “You are nothing but a mangled heap of unquenchable ambitions strutting around in the guise of blood and flesh! Will now and here this ordeal stop? Embark on the path to salvation in front of you and embrace freedom from this worldly bondage! Take the leap!” The seething winds and the numbing cold, the dispassionate rocks and the rustling leaves, the gloomy skies and the lifeless grasses, all came alive and were inciting me to take the last plunge and end my life! “Enough!”, interrupting my partner without any manner of preamble, I continued: “Let’s leave, Its getting darker and will start raining soon…Let’s head home.” Every stride I took to reach home was  heavy since I was burdened by the crushing  weight of thoughts about death and suicide. Breaking the deafening silence lingering  through the journey downhill, my accomplice came up with an afterthought: “The legend says that even though the ones committing suicide die, their souls do not. Their souls, they say, migrate into the trees nearby or wander the hill whispering past the visitors abetting them to commit suicide. The place is haunted and the trees are possessed!” I turned around and took a one last look at the tree under which I sat. Amidst the fading sun and tangerine clouds, the tree looked like the grim reaper revealing its large claws, growing in enormity as darkness enveloped the hills.

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Posted February 5, 2017 by Aneesh in Shutterbug, The Motley Crew

Tagged with , , , , , ,

“The Lone Abode atop a tiny hill.”   12 comments

The Lonely Abode atop a hillEvery turn you take in High Range, Kerala throws up many surprises. You may discover things ranging from pristine cascades, weather weary rocks, creepy valleys, avian friends, tiny creatures and ill tempered tuskers over the course of your journey. When the road snaked through a nondescript village, inhabited by tea plantation workers, I discovered an isolated abode devoid of all charms but leaving an everlasting impact on me.

Years have rolled past since but I still imagine the way of life in those quaint little villages where life is a long lasting struggle but one can still live life in slow motion amidst nature’s orchestra.

 

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