A breath of cold air

Have you ever smelled cold air?

It is an unique smell, a beautiful smell, one that carries you away from yourself, one that you insist on filling your lungs with, and mourns the fact that you can't hold onto.

It belongs to the mountains, and it is to the mountains you must go to truly know it.

Travellers, do you understand which smell I'm talking about?

The one that isn't of flowers, or trees or the grass beneath your feet. It can't be sought out and found. It will reveal itself to you, when you're ready for it.

Travellers, do you remember that smell I'm talking about?

The one that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

The one that, when you've just woken up, comes in with the first cold breeze through the open window.

The one that is distinguishable among the thick smells of the tea you hold in your hand and the clay ovens in the local houses, whose smoke rises among the hills in thinner and thinner wisps as morning arrives.

The one that, if you're really lucky, you'll smell a whiff of it in a passing gust of wind, exactly at noon.

The one that catches you as unguarded as when the evening, which suddenly throws a blanket over the mountains, rushing the darkness in as the sun retires for the night.

The one that you smell at night, when you've finished your dinner, and you stand by the dhaaba at the edge of the road by the cliff, and wonder why the food back in the city never tastes this good, and the city beneath you twinkles, tiny lights in a darkness darker than the night sky, which glows above you with the light of uncountable stars.

You can get a small taste of it even in the city, but it is rare, and precious, and your soul calls out for the mountains when you smell it.

Travellers, surely you know this smell I'm talking about. If you do not, keep on journeying, it is waiting for you.

And if you recognise it, and you grow restless for the mountains yet again, come, let us travel together.

And if we do not meet, find another companion, for such travels are always better with a true companion; or travel alone, but travel you must; and when you catch that elusive aroma again, know that we are with you.