There are a million worlds in this one world we call our own, and each unvisited world tugs on my mind. The sense of freedom that travelling provides me with is and will remain unmatched. The joy of leaving behind all the petty worries of teenage life and exploring sites that I was unaware of, walking on roads that don’t belong to me but for the moment seem to, I feel my best happy.
To travel is equivalent to reading minds. Minds of those who lived long ago and those who live today, of Picasso when he drew a painting, of Angelo when he designed a building, of Shahrukh when he shot a film, and when I’m interpreting what runs in their mind, I feel my best happy.
To sit down for hours near the shore far from home, and silently admire the aggressive beauty the Ocean has to offer, as the setting sun calms it down, soothes my mind. The Nature that He himself seems to have put together piece by piece like a jigsaw never ceases to mesmerise me, and it’s when I’m marvelling at the beauty of a flower unknown at my homeland, that I feel my best happy.
To listen to someone try to tell you about their day in a language you don’t understand, and trying to respond back in words incomprehensible to them, and yet curating a connection you know won’t die for years to come is a treat in itself, and it is when I’m ordering unknown food in an unknown dialect is when I feel my best happy.
To travel is to forget that you’re a part of the World, while you explore the world. And its when when I’m admist this unexplored beauty, that I feel my best happy.