Page 121 - Secondary School BEATS
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CONNECTING AND COMMUNICATING WITH NATURE:
AN EXPERIENTIAL WRITE UP 23.30.
As the car pulled up to my
destination, my back ached
due to the rough drive with
the constant bumps on the
way with the rubble causing
not only the car to jump but
also my bottle which made
such a racket that I spent most
of the time screaming at it. My
mood and temper were as dull
as the road I just left behind.
The road had gotten too
narrow for the Land Rover to Picture courtesy ‘Internet’
drive anymore. I left my stuff
in the car and got out. The me, as if to show off the still they could see their reflection
door slammed behind me. lake they were so proud of, in this pond.
they playfully came close to
“Sigh…….” it, just enough to tease the Can you feel the silence around
Artwork: water, but not quite touch it. here, here where the walls
Annanya Istwal “Nepal was supposed to take I could feel my feet level with echo, ‘Who are you, why have
DP 2 my breath away”, I thought as I the earth, the rocks beneath you come banging on this door,
looked at the GPS on my phone.
my feet that didn’t want me
do you have nowhere to be,
This is where I was supposed to to just walk on them, they and no one to be with?’
come, the place was supposed demanded to be felt, to seize
to be around here somewhere. where I was, to feel what I It was maybe the sweet scent
I walked about 250 meters as was feeling. The subtle but of the sap in the trees of the
the sign said and there it was!!! powerful green was just there still water under me, or the
to highlight the stone stairs single flame burning in the
I stopped, I stared, and I leading up to the place I was ashram. Or maybe it was the
finally breathed! There was to call the Temple of Peace. smell of finally understanding
something about the place The bridge played its tribute and accepting that I was truly,
that finally made me relax. to this temple by bowing very lost!
The bright ruby-red leaves down, guiding the awe-struck
clinging on to the perfect travels to this mystical place.
mocha-brown branches. It did not matter who it was, Contributed by:
Branches coming to greet all that mattered was whether Tripti Kaur, MYP 5
