Old Mountains, New Echoes

' When I open the window at night, there is almost always something to listen to— the mellow whistle of a pygmy owlet, or the sharp cry of a barking deer. Sometimes, if I am lucky, I will see the moon coming up over the next mountain, and two distant deodars in perfect silhouette.' Whether we are a native or simply a frequent traveller to the mountains, each one of us has some endearing memories attached to the hills. The ancient mountains keep offering new echoes of laughter, merriment and...