Gaillard is in France, just across the Swiss border, from Geneva. It is about an hour's drive from Geneva and, in it's own way, is a picturesque place. I am not too sure that I would choose to live there, but then I am Indian. We like crowded places, even though some Indian cities are getting more and more crowded by the day. An occasional escape to places like Gaillard are nice, and allow us to recover some measure of sanity.
But, they can be silent. Silence can be frightening. Yet, Gaillard is not silent. It is a place where you can hear the sounds of nature. The breeze blowing, the water flowing, the birds chirping. It is a place where you can discover the true nature of God in nature. Quite unlike the sterile God who lives in our places of worship.
That summer afternoon in Gaillard four years ago was a perfect afternoon. Bright blue skies, cool breeze, the brook bubbling and the mountain glowing in the distance. What more could I ask for, as I set off for an afternoon walk, while I awaited the gentlemen with whom I would be travelling for the next two weeks.
In some ways Gaillard will be etched in my memory for a long, long time. I saw one of my companions once after that. I have not seen the rest again. One, was subsequently executed.
None of these eventualities were in my thoughts, and neither could I have presaged them as I set off for my three hour walk that afternoon.
We live, we die. The world continues.
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