Night in Swat valley - A Surreal experience …

“Assalam o allaikum”(greeting in Urdu)-He said in a deep voice. His name is Kamal. As he bends down to help us with the luggage his white crisp kurta gains a slight crease. He is a good looking man, fair complexion, average height, jagged features, triangular jaw line and a jet black mustache to compliment a head full of hair.
He’s driving at the speed of light. It’s dark outside with very few street lights. A dozen vendor shops flash through my eyes as we continue to move at a fluttering speed. On the other side are a number of trees equally spaced next to one another. Persimmons ranging from yellow to orange are seen hanging from the crooked branches. Further down the road he parks the car on the side and runs inside a shop. I step out to inhale some fresh air. The scent of Petrichor travels through my mouth down into the esophagus. Something about it doesn't let me go back to the car. With every step ahead, I’m gaining a distance between myself and the vehicle. I had been waiting for so long to visit Swat Valley and after years of wait, I am finally here.
At an altitude of 2300 meters above and away from the concrete jungle of habitat and crisscross flyovers, I see giant mountain silhouettes all around. The Point where they kiss the sky, a crisp irregular outline is formed. This is the first time I’m looking at these massive pieces of art carved out from earth, so beautifully — (of course I have seen it before, BUT in my geography text book).The lush trees in the foreground are dancing at the sound of wind that now seems more furious.
As my eye drifts towards the Sky, there is something very rare to witness. The Nights in cities aren't like this: A silver light reflecting upon the surface of the Earth, lights up the sky. Tiny holes in the dark canvas twinkle agelessly. The moon illuminates the canvas, making it almost as bright as a forty degrees sun. Miles away from any noise and distraction -I’m lying down straight on my back. I feel moisture on my spine, the rough texture of asphalt touching my finger tips and the smell of damp terrain still lingers in the atmosphere. Some things in life are just quintessentially perfect. You know it instinctively deep down in your heart without having to ever consciously ask yourself -”do I like this?” Some experiences like this can be sensed rather than defined; much like spirituality.I could just lie here and admire God’s creation. If the nights here are so glorious, I wonder what the daylight would reveal.