A monologue on travelogue…


Ever wondered, what would happen if birds could talk? Maybe we would have millions of stories to listen. Stories of travel, stories of life, stories of struggle. As great traveller Ibn Batuta once said…

“Travelling… Its leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller”

I have always seen people documenting their travels, as often the joy lies in recollecting the memories of travel later than enduring the perils of travel. Everyone of us can feel joy while describing others of your journey and others pay attention to it, perhaps they hope to learn from your mistakes or draw inspiration from your experiences, which certainly is a big thing in this world where self-existence is the priority.

I love traveling. It helps me stretch my wings and face the hurricanes of life. I collect new memories, I try new things, I laugh a little louder, and I explore myself a little more. These hotels, they are the twisted, fascinating homes people seldom dream of.
But like everyone, I have to go back home — for me, it is a road. And every time I come back, changed, people look at me, and whisper about what I have become this time.
They often forget that I can’t crawl back into my old skin, and I can’t try making them understand what I have become. 
But down this road, I hope to meet you, the one who will accept me before I lock away all of me.
But, love, it will happen, don’t you think? The breaking of our hearts. 
Your walls, the façade, they are nothing but a glass to me, and I can look through them. And I would.
In return, you would strip me down to the very raw of my soul that begged love. 
And what would you find? I don’t know. And honestly, that is what scares me.
It’s the idea that you might just not be quite, but my almost. The experiences that were just an almost. Almost breathtaking. Almost carved into memory. And almost captivated me.

Life to me is nothing but a series of events, events from which we draw experiences, events which gives birth to stories, events which instill the urge to know the unknown and most important of them all is that these events are mobile, they won’t occur if we stay static. Life as we say is itself a travelling caravan that travels across the desert in search of an Oasis named hope.
The more we travel the more we experience our closeness to hope. Humanity owes its debt to the millions of Ferdinand Magellan,Marco Polo,Christopher Columbus, David Livingstone and Vasco Da Gama who dared to leave the comfort of their home and go out for the quest of hope.

Life is a long journey and we must consider ourselves lucky for the fact that we are able to undertake various parallel journeys which in turn prepare us for the big one, and unlike birds we are also blessed to leave a memoir of those experiences for the generations to come.



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