Endless holiday

Sometimes I feel like going on a very long HOLIDAY... on to the mountains where there is just one room guesthouse... It should be monsoon and from the window I could see the green mountains with snow covered peaks. And I wish to be there alone with no one around except a cook who could make some homely pure veg food in the evening and few cups of tea to keep me going in the day. One room which should be full of books on history and hindi literature and on the other side a bed raised high above the ground with a white mosquito net that covers it all year round. Spend a day when that morning comes very late... 2-3 cups of tea just gets cold waiting for the morning to spread over me... then finally I sit in the balcony holding the cup of hot tea with both hands and gaze into the endless mountains... the mountains which are wet in the fresh drops of sprinkle that happened in the morning... I sit there covering myself in a shawl and watch the droplets fall from the shade of my room. Eventually getting up for a moment to play some nice solo songs of Jagjit Singh and get back to the seat to have my 4-5th cup of tea... The weather remains gloomy for the rest of the day as I make a large peg of rum and watch the day slowly pave its way for the night. A night that is colder than usual... a night where every sip of that amber nectar makes me close my eyes and absorb the feeling... a night where the lightening seen on the mountains look like a matchstick which you try hard to light but just can't... and spend the rest of the days of my permanent holiday like that day when I gazed at those mountains...

When will I go for an endless holiday is all I ask myself everyday....