From my window I had the view of this mountain. The tallest one you will ever see. I took such a liking to it that I named it after myself.
Days would pass by where I would just sit and stare at my mountain. Observing the beautiful view and drawing inspiration from it. I'd dreamed of conquering it. I'd write stories and poetry about it. Yet, somehow it always seemed so distant.
Nobody had ever climbed that mountain which left me very curious. People were always talking about other mountains that they'd climbed and based on their stories of adventure I'd formed my own for my mountain.
I knew how it would look from close, how it would feel, how it would smell, how the fruit on top would taste and I could also hear the sounds the birds, animals and the wind would make on it.
But I never got to venturing there on my own. I was too small. I lacked the courage and the expertise. I still had my dreams though.
Time went by. I left home. I got trained to climb other mountains besides other things. Some I succeeded in. Some I didn't. However there was always this feeling of emptiness inside me for not having attempted my own mountain.
I returned home once for the holidays. I got to my room and opened my window to find my mountain covered in clouds. Fortunately the clouds were not too thick and you could still make the outline of my mighty mountain.
I left home with a slight heaviness in my heart in not being able to take in the full view and splendor of my mountain. But I couldn't waste too much of my time on that. There were still more mountains laid out before me to climb. None of which was my own. Time was passing fast and I thought to myself "I'm never going to get a chance to climb my mountain."
I came back home again after my preliminary trainings. Now was the time to make a decision on the route I was going to take…. The mountains I was going to climb. There was really only one route and one mountain. But I didn't dare bring that up! It was far too foolish.
I looked out my window again. This time all I could see was clouds that were thick, dark and monstrous. My mountain was gone, so to say, behind the wall that this cloud had put up. Everything was covered including the sun. It was a storm. The strongest storm I had ever seen.
Many days went by but the weather remained the same. The clouds were there blocking my view. I wanted to have at least one final view of my mountain before bidding adieu.
Finally I could wait no more. So I went out braving the storm to see if I could at least have a glimpse of my mountain in any way. I caught a glimpse. But I wanted to see more so I took small steps on the route to my mountain.
After walking a while suddenly I heard this loud roaring thunder. I realized that it was actually the roaring thundering voice of the clouds and it told me to go back. It told me I had no business trying to look for my mountain which it claimed as its own now. It was a direct warning. I hesitated in moving forward. I confess that I actually took a few steps back right then. Curiosity got the better of me and I pressed forward.
The storm got worse. I'd made the clouds really angry. The rain was relentless and the strong winds nearly swept me of my feet. The pathways I would find would be buried under a mud slide or would be blocked by huge boulders that would have fallen along the way. Trees got uprooted. Vision was bad and moving forward was a real tedious task.
Quite often I'd have to take unused roads to make my way through. Then there were the floods which would just sweep me away and deposit me some where far off my path.
There were times I felt that I'd been through enough and I should go back. But I couldn't. Not without having a look, a good look at my mountain.
I finally reached the foot of the mountain and I strained my neck trying to take a look at the peak. I was happy that I'd made it this far. One look at that peak though and I knew what had to be done next. I had to climb that mountain.
Just then I heard the thundering voice again. It said- "Young man, go back while you can. This mountain is hard to climb and I will make it harder still. Its slopes are steep. One slip and you will come crashing down. I will not allow you to take my mountain."
I sat there on a rock wondering what to do next. Time was running out now as it always does and always has and always will. If I went back I still might be able to salvage something by scaling some other mountain. I closed my eyes and all I could see was the mountain peak. I started climbing.
The going was good initially. Suddenly the clouds came again and in all their ferocity. I had trespassed into its territory and I was going to be prosecuted for it. There were land slides again and I found myself over and under them. A tree would come crashing down my way. All the wild animals would chase me in a desperate measure for food in the storm. Boulders would suddenly fall from the sky. Little rivulets suddenly became more forceful and would sweep me away if I didn't grip tight. Every now and then I'd have to go back a few steps and find another way to climb up again. I was hungry, tired and got very little sleep.
The peak was getting closer. And every moment I spent on the mountain made me happier. There were many difficulties. But I was in love with my mountain. And in love those things don't matter.
Then one day I got up in the morning to find the clouds covered my mountain peak. I could no longer see the top of my mountain. Sometimes the cloud cover became so thick that it was difficult to see straight ahead. Often I'd hear the clouds blasting out it's warnings of dire consequences if I proceeded any further.
The cloud cover on the peak became a permanent fixture. So I didn't know how much of a climb I had left. But I kept climbing.
While passing by a stream I noticed that my mountain was eroding. Slowly but surely my mighty mountain was going to disappear. I tried to stop it but I realized there was nothing I could do.
The clouds were a little friendlier now. I think they figured out I was a tough guy and they liked me for it. It was never said directly. But I always got the hints.
The voice said- "young man, do not worry about the erosion… it's but a natural process. Your mountain will go in to making many other mountains for the generations that will follow… that is the cycle of life"
I smiled at that moment and I was both grateful and thankful to the clouds. Clouds can never really take a mountain. Mountains are too strong and mighty for that. Clouds can cover mountains. They create the illusion.
All the hardships and difficulties put in my way had actually helped me develop the skills and character for my climb. With a grin on my face I returned to climbing.
I was almost there. The air was thin. The body tired with effort. Clouds still covered the top. Suddenly I found that I'd completed my climb. And that instant the clouds disappeared and I stood on top of the peak of my mountain.
And I saw what no one else had, has or will see.
I had the most incredibly beautiful and breathtaking view!