Last year, these days I had been to a place high on a mountain. I climbed the mountain in a moonlit night, but it was pitch black because of the forest around, and the ‘tall, dark’ trees. I walked and climbed all night until I reached a cave in which I slept for a few hours. The mouth of the cave was illuminated by the moon and there was a pit full of water besides the cave. I was woken up by curious monkeys of the forest who claimed the possession of my sack and feasted upon the peanuts and oranges and cucumbers that I had brought along for myself. But they were generous enough to take only as much as they wanted, and left the sandwiches untouched for me, and finally denounced their right to property on the sack.
It was dawn by then, and I gathered my sleeping mat and the sack to climb up to the peak. Half the day was past when I reached the top, and I sat there, observing the marvels of the creator. I wondered at the largesse one could attain. I could see the miniaturized landscape waving in harmony which I had just passed by, the night before and smiled back at the frightening darkness I had witnessed a few hours back.
As the day grew older and the night began to close in – there was no evening, just a hazy day and a luminous but cloudy night – I started walking back downward on my way to get back to the witch – the city. And I observed that a descent is faster only when you fall down. One can climb down slowly. Slower than the ascent, with all dignity if one remains modest.
And I shall be back on the ground
Niren 
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