Even though I can’t put it in words, the butterflies in my stomach made perfect sense. Mix up a little bit of reality, a few lines of poetry, just the right amount of dreamy, a lot of wanderlust, a hint of too-good-to-be-true and it all might add up to somewhat close to how it felt. Maybe there was a secret ingredient too, which I am forgetting at the moment. Bad memory, I know. But today, I am trying hard to remember where we left that incomplete conversation. travel
Was it a rainy day in the hills of Landour, or a sunny one at a white sandy beach? Or, maybe a couple of days decoding a quiant little village? All of these stories continue to live, surfacing every now and then. And many other travel fantasies that we shared are now coming true one by one. The Universe really is conspiring to make it happen and I can’t be happier. Well, you know, travel helps! Connecting distant points on a map and trying to make sense of the trail I leave behind is life’s new goal.
Walking the world, hand in hand, chit-chatting about future sunrises and past sunsets makes life perfect. Well, almost. Because our footprints are the souvenirs we leave behind in parts of the world we might not be able to visit again. Because then, yet another fridge magnet makes it’s way home. Do you know how it warms my heart when I stare at that fridge full of travel memories? I guess you do, because you reminded me to get one from my recent trip to Hyderabad.
To come home after a fulfilling trip with memories for the keeps and moments for the frames is overwhelming. To come home to someone waiting for me at the airport is even better. I think I am on a parallel journey that’s helping me experience a love I didn’t know I was capable of. Though it’s not the one which makes common sense leave your body and you do all things stupid. My sanity is almost in it’s right place, just a little left of the heart. Thanks to all things travel, it’s not lost.
Travel is an insightful teacher and I am taking it slow, as there’s a lot to experience. Some days it is patience that I learn, some other days it is humility. Some days it is letting go, some other days it is holding on for life. Some days, I don’t need to learn a new lesson but only need to implement what I already know. Like checking off that bucket list, one empty chair at a time.
At a farmstay located in village Rail Majra of Punjab, a mist of memories, incomplete conversations and half-baked promises come rushing back as I stare at the empty chair beside me. Learning to let go, trying to keep a promise to myself, I recreate an old conversation with you in my head. I suddenly wish that chair to not be empty anymore. That thought lasts for a moment. Then the mind takes over. It’s a beautiful frame, I think.