Papa loves the mountains. Was his dream to live in a cottage in Nainital. We went to Nainital almost every other weekend, for three years. After all Papa was posted, just 70km from there. My sister and I were young but never failed to appreciate the place. It was beautiful. The lake, so serene, with dark green eyes, with willowy trees all around like sweeping lashes, gazing on at the world pass by. At night it would be more vibrant, thousands of gold flecks dancing in those eyes. Shimmering and reflecting joyfully at the city above. A boat ride in the early evening was the highlight of the trip. You could hear the bells and the conches from the nearby Naina Devi temple along with the lapping water sound against the boatman’s ores.
Life revolves around the lake but if you wanted to meet your friends who lived in Nanital you should go to the mall road. Everyone is there in the evenings. The weather was almost always right. You could be brave and not wear a sweater and if you were really adventurous, you could even eat an ice cream or two. We shopped at the Tibetian market for winter things, dry flower arrangements, electronic tit-bits and other curios. The first recollection I have of Tibet’s plight are from the stories my Mom told me here.
The two hour ride back home was bliss. On Mum’s lap….sleeping.
Life revolves around the lake but if you wanted to meet your friends who lived in Nanital you should go to the mall road. Everyone is there in the evenings. The weather was almost always right. You could be brave and not wear a sweater and if you were really adventurous, you could even eat an ice cream or two. We shopped at the Tibetian market for winter things, dry flower arrangements, electronic tit-bits and other curios. The first recollection I have of Tibet’s plight are from the stories my Mom told me here.
The two hour ride back home was bliss. On Mum’s lap….sleeping.
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