Man is an insatiable being. And I am just one of a kind.
Counting on my last few hours as a workawayer, with a beautiful family (whom I stayed with, for the past 2 weeks), in the far-out corners in Germany, as I sat down to ponder upon a question I was asked, at the dinner table half an hour ago, I wonder why I move so frequently.
I mean why is it when other people are busy making money, and raising families, I act as a clueless nomad. A person who hasn’t had experienced the comfort of a permanent dwelling as he grew up to be a man.
So why am I so restless, so unsatisfied, and bitten by the idea of ceaseless travelling?
Well, if I think about it to an apparent reason, I think these are a few significant reasons why I like to travel so much. This is why I am always on the move…
The Joy In What’s Fleeting
When I ponder upon the possibilities of my unquenchable travel thirst, I realise that perhaps I am looking for a world with no flaws, where harmony only reigns, a Shangri-la (if you’d like to put it that way) that perhaps does not exist at all. Yet I’m seeking it, and in the process, getting hooked, with every passing day, with the idea of finding joy in what’s fleeting.
I like the idea of waking up to for a better morning and moving to an unknown place I knew nothing about. A place where I expect the people to be kindest of all kinds. Where the weather is perfect, and the culture, overwhelmingly vibrant — a feeling perhaps akin to the moment you put a pair of newly washed clothes or open a book for the first time, only to feel the strong aroma of freshness coming out of it.
The joy in what’s fleeting, as I like to put it, is the best of all joys. Though some may find it as a symptom of irresponsibility, or of running away from the bigger picture in life, I see it as a moment of undefined possibilities.
If I don’t like a place, or even if I do, I like the idea of leaving it behind and finding a more perfect, or an equally beautiful version of it, somewhere else!
Home Is Where You Put Your Hat
And then, as the saying goes ‘Home Is Where You Put Your Hat’, a home is after all not a place you were born in, and are expected to live in. Home is, for me, where the heart is.
Two weeks ago, I was living on a beautiful street in Zurich, and it felt more familiar, at least for the moment than the confusing suburbs in Delhi, I’d grown up watching, or the far-out corners of Himalayas — where I often find myself escaping the world.
I don’t believe in losing things behind, and I don’t believe in the loss. Because I think that loss is as much in the eye of the beholder, as is the beauty. And as the story of the Miraculous Tooth brings home goes, truth sometimes exists less in what’s outside of us than what we make of it. So I claim every place my home, as long as I feel the ground under my feet, and find a few happy faces, at the dinner table, to speak with. I go whatever way the wind takes me to.
After all, even hundreds of years ago, I am sure that people could still be found saying, “This place is unlike anything I was grown up watching.”
New Friends Are The Biggest Of All Assets
Alright, before I say something, I would like to confess that I am really bad at making new friends. As an introvert, of a different kind, I find it tougher than you can imagine to continue a conversation for a long time or even going beyond the usual banalities of any conversation.
But that doesn’t mean I do not admire the importance of making new friends. Making relations is the biggest of all assets for me. The human being is an insatiable social animal, after all, and I am just one of a kind.