The first sight was amazing â blue sky touching the green earth at the horizon.

I have always wished to reborn as an Eagle to fly across the sky. And a feeling
of altitude always excites me. So when this college bus, the college wherein I a
m currently working as a lecturer, took me for the daily morning ride along snak
y road through the lonely Aravalli valley and one day I unconsciously looked out
through the cracked dirty broken window, the unexpected view of the distinct ho
rizon lifted me to the sky. I felt like paragliding. The dusky blue sky kissing
the paled green crust far away from this road with no tall building or tower obs
tructing my view â I felt like tasting the dry and smooth taste of freedom. The to
wering position of this highway beside the valley made me feel like flying. I wa
s beyond the bus and I was flying over the valley with my feet tied to the dumpy
bus.
Everyday, at every ride to the college and from the college, I would wait for th
at particular spot when I would peep through the window for a taste of that indo
mitable freedom and of unrelenting inspiration. I try to boost my somewhat buste
d spirits at every blue stimulus. And to get a glimpse of this clear sight to th
e inspiring horizon I would even stand on the bus-top.
The earth looked paled green for the withered shrubs and trees that were spread
from the side of the road till the very horizon. I had seen such trees â in the pr
oportion of one feet tall and two feet wide, on television channels like Discove
ry and NatGeo. And I always saw such vegetation in deserted lands. Their shrinki
ng leaves try saving their moisture from evaporation and shrink further. Even a
gentle breeze would sweep these trees to their extreme sides. Such a sight brush
ed me for a hesitant melancholic breath. But quite surprisingly, these trees, he
re, boosted up my spirit. I was amazed at their fortitude to face the wrath of t
ermitation â (this invented word means the termite like action of humans in engulf
ing any neighborhood). In the next couple of weeks since my first sight at the f
reedom, I could see the numerous shelters and warehouses and party-lawns and tem
ples that had intertwined through the vegetation. I could see the maze of the na
rrow lanes, connecting the illegal constructions and piercing across this so-cal
led protected Aravalli. The advertisement banners along the highway projecting t
he upcoming multi-stories in this area defined the annihilating existence of the
greenery of this endangered zone.
The sight of broken huts and surviving souls under those roofs in this side of t
he valley has, however, confused me. I am confused because I have to take my pas
sive stand either for humans or nature. These are the slums which are let for un
inhibited growth with no talk of their relocation. Probably no hotel constructio
n plan or any housing complex plan has come up to replace them. Or perhaps these
construction guys are busy executing their plans on the other side of the valle
y.