Dedicated to my “ghumakkad family” … for genetically endowing me with the “Traveller keeda” :D
(Although I still get hyper , moan ,fuss over and go on my mood swings before planning the trips .I can't live without them )
Travelling is a joy beyond comparison . But once you look back upon it .. what exactly is left behind ?
The tickets ,which crumble with time …
The photos ,which are kept tightly wrapped in family albums ( or ,to switch back to 21st century … in some long lost folder on your hard drive )..
The souvenirs , gathering dust on some mantel piece in the house …
No ,right ?
What’s left behind are a series of tiny insignificant thoughts ,memories and incidents which just stick to some nook and corner of your cerebrum and make you smile :)
Mysore (this weekend )
Met this “chat wala” kiddo . Turns out ,he was from hamara U.P.
Oh ,the joys of chatting ( gossiping ,more likely ) in full blown desi hindi . And the poor guy was utterly baffled as to why was I roaming around with a friend who didn’t know HINDI !
Made me realize how “madrasi” I have become :D
Paris ( May 2011 )
A metro train from Paris to it’s outskirts . We get down at the wrong station and realize that we are in the middle of nowhere !
And then this lady appears , her english was broken . And we were hopeless at french .
But somehow , she and her husband ( God bless his van ) help us out in planning the route back to our station .
Goodness ,it seems … knows no language :)
Kashmir ( May 2010 )
In the middle of Dal Lake ,it was eerie .
The famed lake ,with it’s supernatural beauty .It looked almost magical … with it’s placid waters and ripples .
As if undisturbed by whatever destruction man had wrought around it !
And there was this girl on a shikara , how old ? I cannot tell .
Rowing her shikara across the lake ,carrying flowers and the sunlight reflecting on her high cheekbones .
She just rowed past . And time stood still ….
Laddakh ( May 2009 )
The bazaar was closing . Tiny ,quaint shops ,dimly lit .
If it hadn’t been for the street lamps ,I might have been travelling in 18th century . As the lights dulled , I saw this old woman .
Huddled in the corner of the street … that shiny walk wool shawl over her . She looked like a fragment of history .
Born of those mighty himalayas
Pondicherry ( January 2010 )
It was a small ,almost invisble church . I , Achyut and Huzi just walked in casually .
It was deseted inside . The church choir was practising in the corner . For some minutes , there was just us ,and the music and Him :)
The belly dancer in Dubai ,who danced for herself …
The stripper in Pataya .Who danced with her eyes …
The ticket collector in Bruseels , who greeted us with the biggest smile ever …
The child who ran behind us in Kerala back waters . All he wanted was a pen …and gladly caught it in the air …
The tiny girl who screamed with glee , as she raced her camel across Rajasthan dunes …
The sadhu in Badrinath ,moving and rejoicing with the passion of Bliss …
The soldier on Siachen glacier , with those grinning eyes ..
Memories … snapshots .. fragements …
PS - Btw , do join me on twitter . I am new there and I'd LOVE some help :)