The summit had been reached, but the journey didn’t end there.
Kya kehte hain... chadhai se zyada utarna mushkil hota hai.
Climbing down wasn’t just about returning, it was about carrying the wisdom earned from every fall, every bruise, and every moment of doubt.
Standing at the top, wind in the hair and dreams in the eyes, the world below looked familiar yet different.
Not because it had changed, but because the person seeing it had.
No longer the same soul who stood trembling at the base, this was someone who had turned “main nahi kar paunga” into “main kar chuka hoon.”
Someone who knew now, himmat karne walon ki kabhi haar nahi hoti.
As they began the descent, every step was steadier, wiser. The path was still rocky, still tricky, but there was a naya noor in the eyes, a stillness in the heart that only comes from conquering your inner Everest.
Along the way, they met others, some stuck halfway, some just starting.
To them, the climber said softly, “Rasta mushkil hai, par tu bhi toh loha hai… tod de har bandhan.”
The lesson was now clear:
It was never about the mountain.
It was always about the mann.
The strength to keep walking, chahe dhoop ho ya aandhi, that’s where true victory lay.
The scars? They became medals.
The pain? A memory that taught compassion.
The summit? Just the start of a new story.
Because life, mere dost, is full of mountains.
Some we see. Some we feel.
And every time we rise, fall, rise again, we’re writing our own Mahabharat of resilience.
So keep walking.
Keep climbing.
Kyunki asli jeet toh tab hoti hai jab tu khud pe vishwas karta hai.
PerplexityAI
