White Forrest

It was one of the coldest winter evening of December when I found myself cursing all those quote makers on "Pinterest", who promised the fun in getting lost in the middle of nowhere. I was lost, but not alone this time and had a group of hikers when the unstable snow rushed downhill and buried everything except us. It was the test version of an avalanche that left us alive in the reign of terror and for a few moments none of us broke the numbness in the air. Our arms and legs would not move and like puppets we were looking at nothing, all frozen. To overcome the feel, I gazed up for any hope and in return all I received were arrows made of snowflakes from a concrete grayed sky.

The dull winter sun was about to fade behind the snow covered oak trees and everything was darkening in the magical forest . We were a few miles to reach the top but the forest was all we could see. It was the time which seemed more slippery at that instance and our only hope was "Rudra", the god who command all the rise and fall in the wilderness of this universe ; Amidst all the incidents, there was a man who was trudging a few meters away from me. Holding a hiking pole in one hand and a dim torch on the other, he kept seeking the truth hidden inside the darkness of white snow. It was the courage of that man which changed the vibes at the place and like some of the happy tales, the green man lit up the yellow light which, when fell on the snow, did the wonder. He had illuminated the path to Nirvana for us.