A Different Path

Threat

Satyasena sat by a rock, taking in the silence and serenity of this grand illustration crafted by the hand of God. The Himalayas - a sight almost unbelievable and unmatched. The courtesans who had told him tales of its beauty had been rather careless while sharing their accounts for those hardly matched his own experience. But then again, he doubted any of them had traveled this far. They were several feet above ground level and he peered upwards to look at the surrounding mountains. He saw harsh stone battered by wind peeking at him through a thick blanket of snow.

As one went lower, they would chance upon the scraggly fauna establishing their dominance on the alpine slopes, serving as fodder for the wild animals that roamed this steep landscape. Surrounded by a belt of long and beautiful coniferous trees, it all ended in a bed of rocks where water flew during the Summers to nourish the planes that covered the north of Bharatvarsh.

As mighty as they were, they were also a gentle reminder of one's mortality. Life was tough here, everything conditioned to eliminate the slightest signs of weakness. The dangerous slopes routinely tested his balance, one wrong foot the only hurdle between him and death. The winds so harsh, the cold cut in as deep as a serrated dagger. The dangerous berries, ridiculously alluring yet equally lethal, a single drop enough to distinguish life. Survival was tough here, everything conditioned to eliminate the slightest signs of weakness. You either endured here long enough to stand the might of the mountains or you succumbed to its strength and were buried in its bosom for all eternity.

And yet it had its perks. Never before he had felt the pleasure of having air fill his lungs after a long exertion to forage for wood. Sometimes, just a chance to breathe and be still was a blessing.

Yesterday, he had staggered down on a long walk and witnessed a bunch of wild yak resting. Beautiful creatures they were, almost exquisite behind the canvas of precipitous peaks. Two of them rolled on the ground, while another kept nuzzling close to their mother for warmth. Soon, the rest of them joined their sibling. The male yak spotted him spying on his family and moved his large horns in a warning.

He had almost called to his brothers before realizing it was just him. He left the animals alone as per the male yak's wishes.

Satyasena exhaled and leaned back, stretching his arms in opposite directions. He hated these early morning watches. The constant vigilance with which he was to treat those excursions was not only tiring, it was also to some degree humiliating. He hated that he had to constantly look over his shoulder. He hated that from hereon he would never be safe.

Life had never appeared this dull or depressing to him before.

"Not in the mood, elder brother," He yelled out upon hearing footsteps. Despite his warning, the footsteps neared him, uncaring and determined.

Satyasena glanced at Vrishasena over his shoulder. So much for a peaceful morning. It seemed out of the lot of him, the one who had been the quickest to adjust to these new surroundings was Vrishasena. In the mornings, he would be awake before anyone else, ready to scour the highlands as if he was doing it for the first time. After exercising like a mule, he would sit with their mother and help her in preparing lunch, being very sufficient with the knife and spices. In fact, he would venture out and come back with an armload of a variety of shrubs, berries, and wild onions, experimenting with them to create new dishes. He would play with Prasena and Vrishketu, making them laugh so hard that their sounds would echo through the mountains tenfold. In the evening, under the stunning night sky, he would join their grandparents, massaging their feet and sharing stories that they had already heard a million times.