Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I've never been a traveller.

The first thing that comes to my mind when I'm in a new place is not to take out my camera and click visual memories.

It's usually, "what can I eat now that's tasty and healthy". I'll probably give in, anyway. Get something fattening, while trying to convince myself that I ran an extra 15 mins a couple of days ago. Which should grant me the liberty to eat what I want.

Can I resort to a cliche?

Can I say, very often in my dreams, I travel to places I didn't even know existed. Hot-air balloons, overlooking black dotted cows, fit men in tight shorts cycling on bricked roads. Little streets, where all anyone ever ate is strawberry ice-cream with real strawberries. And nobody to tap my back and tell me the innuendo of dreaming about strawberries?

I travel from one thought to another - when i sit in my bus home, thinking of when I'll go back home and feel internally happy. About the mouse in my house and how I now realize I prefer those icky flying cockroaches to mice - because at least I can kill them.

I travel from one nostalgic moment to another - wondering when I'll be making the same kind of memories with my current situation. And then realizing that i have had some jaw-dropping moments in this city. That if I don't learn to love it - I might never truly understand the brilliance of growing up.

I travel from one idea to another - why can't I write about my thoughts on Indian politics? Why haven't I written about my favorite films? Why haven't I been inspired to write beautiful lines about life, miracles and other jazz?


Must find something awesome about self and gloat about it. Shouldn't be hard :)