Corners of the world

“What is the best part about travelling?” someone asks me. I just giggle. They look at me with wonder and confusion.

“you’re crazy!” They say. I laugh this time.

Maybe that’s what I can do. Laughing is always easier than explaining them how I like to stick out my face out of the window when the wind gushes with a tinge of moisture into it and it runs through the loose ends of my shirt. Or maybe how I just get too involved into the sight of the vehicles that keep moving across the highway while my companions hop out for a quick tea break post-midnight.

Travelling isn’t about the places I visit or the adventures I indulge into. It’s about that concentration which I put up into watching the ants that move over a small pole, carrying those minutes’ particles of food I just dropped and how their tiny bodies glisten red as sunlight falls over a part of the pole.

It is about, maybe how I end up discussing life with the person who just house kept us, making our travel memorable. It is about watching that little creature resisting to offer his yellow bit of paper, while his mother monkey tries to snatch it away from her and how that tiny brat falls off the cliff making me almost lose my breath, only to come running up back again.

I love to travel; it gives me time to think. Solo traveling is even better; I’ve always loved solitude. No one to judge your first drafts. You observe people without intention; strangers become your muse for a moment. I’ve always believed in the lost art of writing letters while travelling; like a dream of having an otherworldly pen pal.

It is really difficult to tell people how travelling isn’t just being to places physically. It’s little more than that. It is the ease with which I can lose myself into the tiny wonders of nature. Or count the stars until I lose my count or fall asleep, tired and peaceful.

It’s the endless number of people I come across, everyone living a different life, still keeping their smile bright. It’s about watching those narrow roads flooded with lush greenery on both sides that curve down every minute, churning my stomach on every steep turn. It’s about those butterflies that come running up inside me as I await to explore a new place.

I wish I could tell people, but it’s too hard to explain them. So when they ask me, I just laugh, and walk away, preparing myself for another travel and awaiting some more cherished moments with the sensational roads and hypnotic creatures that make me lose into them without even they bothering about it.

Travelling is all about feeling my presence in this huge world and having every creatures’ presence felt. Travelling is more than life!