By Hetvi Kamdar
Picture Source: WeHeartIt
The most travelling I do these days is from my forlorn bedroom to the balcony,
to bask in morning glow of the sun and get a taste of the life outside my bubble of comfort.
To not forget what light feels like when it falls off my body and warms me all over,
to not detach myself from the present.
So accustomed to the literal part of travelling, that I never realise that it’s the adventure I crave,
not the destination,
Tt’s the mystery and the wide eyed astonishment, it’s the journeys that never seem long enough.
For all the songs I want to scream out at the top of my voice,
For all the clouds I want to chase from the windows,
For all the wind to consume me wholly and take me away with them.
To travel is not to collect souvenirs and pose in front of landmarks.
I desire the animosity of a city, undiscovered, and fully exposed for my eyes only.
The skies look identical all over the world,
yet the soft glow of another place etches itself into my skin.
And I leave, as I always do, not with collectibles,
but only a head full of memories and a camera roll full of archaic museums and starry nights
All I’ve learnt this summer is to appreciate the walk from home to the grocery store,
and revel in the twinkling eyes that depict the wide smiles these masks conceal,
and revel in watching nature take its course.
Leaves turning shades and shedding their layers as I shed my own insecurities,
it’s not just a momentary pause in life, but an ongoing transformation.
A rebirth of sorts, rebuilding the society on bricks of empathy and compassion
and savour the little things.
Like the walk from my forlorn bedroom to the balcony.
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