The Echoes Of The Valley

By Arya Pawar

It was three in the morning atop Palchani Thatch when I felt nauseous. I tried waking up my friends, but it was a futile attempt, for they were deep asleep. I was reluctant to go outside the tent, for it was stark dark, yet gathering whatever courage I had and compelled by my physical needs, I picked up my water bottle and made my way outside.

The moon and the residual heat of what was left of the campfire being my primary source of light, I made my way towards the make do washroom, situated at the edge of the ridge of the small pastureland our camp was set up on.

I freshened up and was making my way back to the tents when I looked up at the sky. The painter above splashed the darkest of black on this perpetual canvas, and sprinkled the brightest of glitter upon it, giving rise to the most exquisite abstract. A quintessential beauty, I was lost in it.

A ting of dizziness hit me, perhaps because of staring up towards the sky, lost in my stargazing and I closed my eyes, letting the moment pass. When I recomposed myself, my eyes caught a stark silhouette, seated on a stool near the campfire. Whoever it was had their back towards me.

“Hey, are you alright?” I shouted in the direction of the anonymous person.

I was a little concerned, it was a little late, maybe they were sick too. I believed they didn’t hear me, so I made my way towards the campfire. As I got closer, I realised it was a girl, and by the looks of her curly hair, it struck me that it was Sia. I called out to her once again.

I approached her and was about to place my hand on her shoulder, when the five dogs which accompanied us on the trek, in conjunction went towards the edge of the cliff and started barking furiously. In the next moment, they were upon me, nagging at my joggers and leaping up at me, all five of them.

Scared to my bones, I ran back to my tent at full speed and zipped it up immediately, totally neglecting Sia in its wake. I realised that and hoped she was okay. A sudden weakness encompassed me, and my eyes closed on their own accord.

Next morning, I went inside Sia’s tent and found her cocooned in her sleeping bag, listening to music. When she saw me approaching, she plucked out her earphones.

“Are you okay Sia? I don’t know what happened to the dogs last night. It was so late, I shouldn’t have left you alone,”

Suddenly she interrupted me, “Last night? Dogs? I haven’t left my tent in two days.”

By Arya Pawar