What makes me Travel? What do I try to see when i Travel? These are all the questions often asked in so many ways and in so many manners to me.
I usually don't like to answer them. I try to show what I see and how I feel but at times I realize that my silence through which I try to speak is half understood.
I travel to see me. Peculiar right? Indeed I often find myself boring and unintelligent in front of a well manicured mirrors in my home. They usually go on chattering the same verbs.
And then a fresh round of air makes me freer from my growing stomach and receding hairline. I travel to find me growing into an exciting homosapien, ignorant to all the best possible presets being applied on my selfies in Instagram.
I become freer from my narcissus tendencies and start looking around for a story. For a story I am unaware of. For a story I will never have to pay a price. For a story that will not yell back at me.
I travel to get soaked in rains, dusted in the muddy air and watch the humans moving endlessly ( at least they would like to believe that ) within the ceaseless singularity of Time.
I Travel to see a drama that will never happen. A piece of history which is so insignificant that none will care for. Peacefully watching the cat crossing the windows, a man chewing the tobacco as if having a sex, an old colonial story of the trams coming to a halt.
Talking about that did I mention that over here in this image I saw General Dyer crying his heart out to this native Indian man and complaining how he will miss riding the Trams!
Yes the bells are ringing. Go and have a ride on these soon to be extinct species of transport from The City of Joy - Calcutta.
Oh, do let me know if Doninique La Pierre would shed some tears hearing the news...
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