At times, I feel about the state of mind a person has; the mode he gets into for different circumstances, for distinctive situations, and for the number of ways he is asked to react. Well, recently I'd been to Mcleodganj, Dharamsala in Himachal Pradesh; probably an unexplored destination yet to be commercialized like other states especially Gujarat, MP, or Kerela in India.
One peculiar thing about the place is peace. People simply love walking up the hill to find a place, just to sit and smoke marijuana or hash a.k.a malai- the world famous charas from Manali sold to various parts as manala cream. Varieties of Chillum, synonyms of the lord Shiva, posters of Hindu Gods, praises scribbled on the rocks worshiping the Mahadev, unmatched psychedelic trance, fumes of coffee, aroma of momos, and the noise of the waterfall can lure anyone to fall to try out the smoke which is claimed to have been the passion of Mahadev.
Me and my friend tried the much talked heavenly cream, and believe me, it was the best state I ever got into. My mind opened up and surely it was not merely a psychological instinct that I inhaled a prohibited drug, but it was purely because of the black stuff that was undeniably magical. Pristine set of completely unharmed thoughts started rushing through my head, the serenity started flowing to each of my veins, and untainted clear view of life appeared in my subconscious.
The doping you call it, or whatever, but the meaning of my life and the reason of my existence kept flashing to me over n over again. There were certain truths which were kept hidden beneath the blanket of disapproved beliefs, mistakes which never happened to be pardoned of, love that never ended but halted n thrown away somewhere in the middle of the road, those desires which are burnt alive several times every day, the difference between good and bad, the predominating existence of the god, and so on. All these things came alive with answers when the burning tobacco carrying the black powered touched the throat to reach the heart just before hurting the lungs.
Purely magical in its creation, I bow to the person who found the best doping substance which a person can readily accept until he/she surrenders to it. It shows the meaning of life and takes you to your state of mind where you meet the real you, at least for sometime if not always.
Try out some smoke in the chillum made of ceramic or wood having the silver base. Do not forget to cover it with a rag so as to avoid hurting yours lips and a better grip to hold.
One peculiar thing about the place is peace. People simply love walking up the hill to find a place, just to sit and smoke marijuana or hash a.k.a malai- the world famous charas from Manali sold to various parts as manala cream. Varieties of Chillum, synonyms of the lord Shiva, posters of Hindu Gods, praises scribbled on the rocks worshiping the Mahadev, unmatched psychedelic trance, fumes of coffee, aroma of momos, and the noise of the waterfall can lure anyone to fall to try out the smoke which is claimed to have been the passion of Mahadev.
Me and my friend tried the much talked heavenly cream, and believe me, it was the best state I ever got into. My mind opened up and surely it was not merely a psychological instinct that I inhaled a prohibited drug, but it was purely because of the black stuff that was undeniably magical. Pristine set of completely unharmed thoughts started rushing through my head, the serenity started flowing to each of my veins, and untainted clear view of life appeared in my subconscious.
The doping you call it, or whatever, but the meaning of my life and the reason of my existence kept flashing to me over n over again. There were certain truths which were kept hidden beneath the blanket of disapproved beliefs, mistakes which never happened to be pardoned of, love that never ended but halted n thrown away somewhere in the middle of the road, those desires which are burnt alive several times every day, the difference between good and bad, the predominating existence of the god, and so on. All these things came alive with answers when the burning tobacco carrying the black powered touched the throat to reach the heart just before hurting the lungs.
Purely magical in its creation, I bow to the person who found the best doping substance which a person can readily accept until he/she surrenders to it. It shows the meaning of life and takes you to your state of mind where you meet the real you, at least for sometime if not always.
Try out some smoke in the chillum made of ceramic or wood having the silver base. Do not forget to cover it with a rag so as to avoid hurting yours lips and a better grip to hold.
