Long ago, a single dewdrop settled on a lonely blade of grass on a mountain top. The first rays of sun caressed the dew and the mountain God came into being. Soon after, birds followed and sheep reached the meandering curves of the mountain. After the animals, soon followed the humans. They built huts of wood and had bonfires. The mountain God- curious- watched them as they sang to their little babes, tended their gardens and milked the yaks. With them, the Sun seemed to set faster.
Ages passed by. On a cold winter evening, the Mountain God decided to watch a man haul a cart with his mule through a narrow passage by the hillside. The mule, after a day’s work, was not in the very best of spirits, so was the master. The reluctant pair looked forward to a warm hearth at the end of their journey. The mule, a little reticent; the man, a little impatient- missed an errant pebble and within a moment found themselves on the verge of slipping into the gaping abyss. The Mountain God willed a large boulder to stem their fall further and before it knew- the man held on and so did his mule. Someone ahead on the road was back to check on the loud crash and found both the animal and its keeper safe.
Once the man and the mule were retrieved, fed and made warm- the village gathered around to hear about the ordeal. This much excitement was last seen in the village when the shepherd’s daughter married into the other village and the groom had arrived in a 4 wheeled cart to get the bride. With the attention of the young and old on him, the man was pleased to inform about his day and how he managed to get a cart worth of goat cheese for the winter. After being hurried to tell how he survived the steep fall- he sat there pondering how his certain death was averted by a surprise boulder to hold on to. Though his loss of a season’s worth of goat cheese irked him, he was not a thankless man. Once he muttered that he felt someone protected him- the old granny of the village jumped on it and told how her mother was saved from slipping into the stream and held by a boulder. This was enough fodder for the village to talk for days. Nearby villagers trickled in to see the fresh boulder that was not there a few days back. Within months, the story of a protector was well circulated and became integrated into the region like the local flora and fauna
With a new sense of belongingness; a new purpose to his long existence made the Mountain God feel a new feeling of exhilaration. It began observing them everyday, protecting them in the perilous conditions on the hills. With each fervent adulation, his vigilance increased- lest he miss someone. Ages turned and the folklore of the Mountain God was now commemorated into a small stone temple.
The first motorized vehicle that chugged up the hills heroically was welcomed by the small town of the mountain. There was a steady stream of curious onlookers and children followed trying to touch the shiny veneer. The Mountain God observed it with interest and decided to bring it under his protective wings as well.
With years, the roads got broader. Mules made way for the machines. Men went about their days faster. But the lore remained. There were no accidents on this mountain. No matter how tricky the curves were and how sneaky the bends- no matter how fast a drunk would navigate the snaky roads- someone was always saved in the nick of time. This was indeed a fact backed up by no sign post to say that this was an accident-prone area. The homilies strewn across other roads were conspicuous in their absence on these hills. The mountain God was ever present- fixing a near tipping overloaded truck here- and gently prodding a family of 4 on a rickety luna there
The mountains now crisscrossed with roads and on them hundreds commuting was what the Mountain God kept its eyes peeled on. Some rash and some not even looking. But the local motorists did slow down and pay their respects to the now decrepit stone pile with occasional flowers on them. The Being forgot the view of sunsets and sunrises – It forgot what it was to dip its feet in the cool stream when the sun was up. Its heart would race when trying to save the callous driver on the slope while simultaneously moving the barricade in to protect another one a little uphill. The mountain God was now breathless but did not know how to stop
It was one of those days – there seemed to be endless vehicles rushing past. Both ways, no one seemed to catch a breath. With nonchalance people pushed ahead- steady with their knowledge of no-accident prone zones in these hills. With eyes burning, sense of urgency and a certain indignant finger nudging a bus full of tourists ever so slightly to the left, everything seemed to happen on split and there were two motorists about to meet headway. A tired hand stopped the crash. A moment or probably a few heartbeats later, a deafening crash echoed just behind. Emotions that the Mountain God did not know now filled his entire being. Fear. Inertia. A Tight Throat perhaps, but a loose limb. All gripped the mountain God into a moment of darkness that refused to end- maybe it was more than a moment. The hills were stunned, then there was chaos. That night, the hospital was full and the Mountain God’s thoughts were empty.
It looked at the stars until they gave way to the sun. Once the initial shock of the tragedy wore off, the town seemed to bustle to its daily humdrum. The tea time conversation, of course, hovering on the accident. Some speculated there was no one protecting the hill and it was all a matter of time. Some opined that modern machines drove the magic away. Motorists became cautious- at least as cautious as they could be. But the mountain god remained rooted- desperate to be nudged. For some sign that it was not true. That it didn’t fail. Endless thoughts rushed in on how it could have prevented it. The sound of the approaching vehicle filled it with dread. Days passed and this hill town was not special anymore. Once the snow made way to spring dew, the bustle in the town commenced. One such busy day, the God heard a group of cheerful girls lugging their heavy school bag. The obvious leader of the group bragged about a new place her father took her during the winter. For her friends surrounded by the beautiful hills, any new landscape was a matter of awe to be experienced. They hung on to each of her words. The frothy sea and the endless sand that she encountered. Was that possible beyond the cinemas? The girls demanded a picture of hers to prove she wasn’t selling them some quackery. A picture was proudly produced. Carefully, the girl laid out the printed paper on her smoothed skirt. Ribboned pigtails huddled around to take a peek and murmurs of envy were exchanged. The mountain God also peeked. It was a mountain Being and since times bygone it only knew mountains. The sight stirred a certain longing in the mountain god. This seemed to finally nudge it. The tired, exhausted Being wanted to be there and to see and feel what it was. And the mountain God set forth. Towards East. There came multiple wondrous views- vast roads unlike the spindly ones in the mountain, paddy fields, new animals and some concrete mess of dwellings. Sometimes it stopped- both wanting and fearing to take a peek at the massive roads in the plains and then nudged itself to go East. Sometimes it dawdled when kids played in a field hitting a ball with a wooden paddle. But its steps always moved towards the sea.
On an evening that was neither hot nor cool, and the sun was mellow and, on its way, to wind up its day- the Mountain God touched sand. And its eyes saw the vast endless ocean. It was the sound that reached it first. Curious, the Being had quickened its steps and now it was there. Each step took an eternity. The sand accepted the Mountain God’s weight and took it within. Like a kin who understands. The wind caressed the anxious tired brows and it un-creased. By the time the Mountain God’s heavy feet reached the shore, the sun had spread its crimson hue across the sky and the sea. The mountain God moved its foot forward and a wave gently caressed the God. Then came a wave crashing by and the Mountain God was swept into it. The dew on the lonely grass on the mountain top was part of the wave now. Vast, endless and ever present. The wind and the Sun witness to this.
Not So Corporate 
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