Stretching far beyond the distant horizons
is a mountain where trod the gods on their
way to heaven, where mankind prayed for
redemption, for a broader vision, for union
with universal, infinite energies. The peaks
tower snow white — stretch out an awning.
Long ago, these were not there. The ranges
birthed as two ancient land masses embraced.
Their child, these hills, these peaks, the grand
Himalayas, the Everest — a love-child, an
accident of nature? And yet, they have stood
longer than you or me, much longer in history.
They stretch towards the clouds, aged 50 million…
and still growing: humans of less than 200,000 years
draw lines, boundaries on these hills. Borders
of development, economics, politics, intolerance —
what do these mountains think? Does how we think
impact the moves of these tectonic plates? Humans
see their lives as unique, devise systems that exclude.
What would the mountains say and the land?
Lalon, with love, sings of the oneness. He
hums, “I am a human” as are we. Across borders
of Kabul, of Kandhar, Ballys, Apaches, Moanas
and more, rings an echo: “I am a human” —
The Universe reverberates with a voice that fills
with the freedom of winds, the vastness of skies,
the tallness of mountains, the whisper of leaves —-
— “We are all human and One.”
Mitali Chakravarty writes for peace and harmony and in that spirit brings out the Borderless Journal.
