I have no plan to tell you how inclined you will be towards Nature if you grow up in its Green, I know most of you can relate and understand, and if not, come with me on its fringes where it’s only the occasional chirping intruding your silence and not these loud-horns I hear now, when away from my town.
Kanhari, if you know what it’s like growing up around a hill, was quiet. She prefers silence, it’s in her aura and has this habit of inducing her quiet in you, akin that ‘Royal’ queen who won’t tell you to feel her presence, but you will.
She’s like a protective mother and the green spread in acres around will tell you about her Silent-Roars when they are touched.
Though Google will successfully make you her part with hundreds of her pictures clicked by her lovers, hoping each time that they go against the clichéd angles. There you find night views of the town from her top or about the (Limca Book-) record (India) of finding the biggest Ant-Hill here.
I do my part of leading you to her through the road one takes to reach her, with my uncertain haults to let you meet this road as well.
In these pictures you see the area around her; Farmhouse,Pond and the forest which has been largely cleared for human settlement.
I still have a lot to say.
I have to tell you about those early morning walks around her in the misty weather, those rare Calm-night walks, about her challenging terrain for a bicycle rider(She hates your Motor) and about those people who sit with her alone. There are evenings when I stare at her from my roof, stare silently. She and the thousand other Kanhari(s) are very important and symbolic for most of us and how we let them die, ignoring the bond we built with them over years.
Seeing them being killed despite those hundred times we silently confessed how much we love them.