Nirvana.

It’s 6000 to 10000 feet in an hour, from bright green to blinding white. There’s a turn at the end of it, on a road guarded by nothing from the vertical drop to the left, below which, riverine villages border a blue stream. And when you finally take that turn, mountains in the distance slowly move left to reveal what I’ll call, white heaven. Time to turn the drive mode to snow, lock those differentials up and let the momentum do the job, while I soak in admiration, joy and the profound feeling of pride from making it this far into this terrain and life. Interrupting me, will be landscapes, those that’ll halt me every now and then, demanding a photo. After obliging, I’ll trail on, with an even bigger smile, to where the road takes me.

…I wrote, while on my study table, with the little clock threatening to blow every second spend not on my work. Why? You might ask. Well, it’s my motive, the thought of which assures me that I should live on, my Nirvana. What’s yours?

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