Sometimes when I travel, there a certain moments when I have an amazing experience that is hard to describe. I come across certain things that make me feel a lot of emotions without any rational reason. These experiences are not something that I can portray while recounting the stories about my trips with my friends, but are secret memories that are recalled every so often in the privacy of my thoughts.
During my trip to Matheran, I experienced one of those moments when I was hiking with my travel partner, with no objective of getting anywhere, but just exploring the areas beyond the points where the paths ended. We came across two or three abandoned houses. It looked like these houses were abandoned a long, long time ago. These homes looked loving and comforting, from whatever was left of them, but they weren’t cared for; there was an air of melancholy around them. These bungalows weren’t creepy like most abandoned places are doomed to be. They felt sincere, resilient and that had they been given a chance, they would be a doting home to a happy family.
If you would let your imagination run free, you could almost see kids running around in a large front yard, wearing bright raincoats and wellington boots, building mountains and digging wells in the wet mud. You could picture the parents sitting on the beautifully tiled front porch, drinking hot tea and watching over the kids. You could almost hear the calming music drifting from inside as it floats through the cold, moist air. With nothing but trees and clouds around, nobody disturbs the dream that this, now broken down, home lets you live in.
To some these houses are just walls covered in moss; or maybe even an eyesore in a picturesque wilderness; they could be perceived as a consequence of the hardships of inconvenience because maintenance in a no-vehicle ecosystem is hard. To me, these houses stand as a testimony to time- houses that have perhaps known love and lost, lived through centuries. They are now destined to wear out and be forgotten, except in the minds of the few who will still choose to see them through the eyes of a dream.