All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
Life has a strange timing of granting your wishes- it makes them come true when you are spewing cynicism and the light at the end of the tunnel seems like another mirage. The break that I have been cribbing about landed on my lap when I had come to accept the monotony of my life.
Although the planning had been on for a week, given my reputation of flopped plans [:D], I tried not to get overtly excited about the whole thing. As the week progressed, I saw the location change three times and the number of people dwindle from ten to five. Had it not been for a very determined group of five people desperate to make it a success, this trip would never had happened. And I am glad, it did not fall apart.
We did the usual touristy things- roamed around the market, shopped for sovereigns, saw the same mountain from five different points/locations and went boating. There were moments when we simply sat on the edge, looked across the horizon, five people lost in thoughts and musings of their own.
I realised I travel differently- the excitement of seeking familiarity is more than that of discovering new places. Here, staring out of the window opening to a postcard-perfect view, I could not help thinking about settling there and writing a book, roaming around on cold mornings in the twisted alleys, cupping hot tea glasses for warmth and reading Robert Frost poems in the dead of night.
My memories are not of the perfect landscapes I witnessed but of laughing till my sides hurt, of endless brooding over life's unnecessary complications, of comfortable silences and of feeling something stir within. This is what I seek in a trip and from what I know, the journey has just begun.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost