The climb unto personal Everest

People often ask me what I miss about India. ‘Family and friends’, pat comes my reply. Colours, petrichor and a walk into a delightful tropical forest with its moist soil. “Ah…the smell which welcomes you into the greenhouses at Kew Gardens”, I promptly provide an explanation.
With five years of learning accountancy, I thought I quickly learned about the debits and credits. The opportunity costs. Missing college festivals as my company secretarial exams ran around at the same time. Failing to keep in touch with acquaintances as long working hours grappled me.
I have an Everest to climb. A dream to chase. Countries to travel, cultures to explore. Bills to pay.
Nobody knows about the avalanches, the breathlessness. The tears of losing five marks in an exam.
The extra wrinkles on mum’s face after meeting her after two years. The climb on unto Everest is perhaps too personal.
The world is interested in a selfie on the summit, afterall.

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