"Where did you find this photograph?", I asked my daughter, as my eyes started reconstructing the fragments of memory.


This was our second day in Ooty. A week had passed since the seven rounds around the sacred fire.

We boarded a cab. "Madam, do you want to see the waterfall? Deep in the forest, untouched." She nodded. 

As the car went up the winding roads, we got glimpses of the valley and the clouds alike. Soon, we reached a place that looked like a village. Some kuchcha houses, a small temple, cows and roosters. 

"We will stop here".

"Have we reached?”, wondering where was the waterfall.

"A little walk from here". 

I held your mother’s hand, the weather being a little chilly and followed him. After about 200 meters we arrived at a stream. 

"We will cross from here. Don’t worry sir, it is not deep. Just take off your shoes." He tried to finish all in a sentence.  

I held her hand tightly and slowly moved against the flow of water. The stones beneath were slippery and cold. There was a forest on the other side. It looked a little dense on the first glance.

I could not see any clear trail as we followed him. Water expanded and receded beneath our shoes as we foot printed the wet leaves. I could smell the moist air. It had a certain kind of fragrance wherever the sun rays reached the earth.

I checked my watch and looked back to map the distance. I pressed her hand as a signal to slow down. We could read the fear and anxiety on each other’s faces as no waterfall was in the sight yet.

Is this the sound of water? A sigh of relief, finally. And soon appeared before us the most magnificent waterfall I had ever seen. 

Everything seemed to get lost in the roar of the waterfall. The mist around it was beautiful and comforting. 

The fear and the anxiety glistened in the tiny droplets on our forehead. A gift from the invisible waterfall. 

"Sir, let me click a photo."


ⓒ Rajesh Srivastava