Tag Archives: travel

May be it doesn’t matter anymore.

It’s all, about you.
So many sad eyes on happy faces.

Why are you allowing to wither in your self?
Do you still have those bits and pieces of who you were?
I believe, they are yours.

Because you let fairy tales; you grew up reading in books, to be true.
The whole point of being with someone is so you can talk your heart out with them, without feeling being judged, who smiles at your best and stays with you at your worst.

But may be you’re too late.
You no more know how to talk.

May be it doesn’t matter anymore.
I’ve seen it through you.
You held it long enough to let go.
Stop holding those bits and pieces
of where you no longer belong.

Close your eyes to old ends
and open your heart,
to new beginnings.

You are brave, you know;
I’ve seen you dance
through the flames that ramble against you
when you set yourself
on fire.

You’re kind, you know;
I’ve seen you soothe those
who never bothered
to know
the ache inside you.

You’re more, you know;
more than this,
more than you ever were,
more than anyone could ever be.

You’re made up of thunder, fireworks and sunlight.
So, rise like the sun, and burn.

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First steps

You have a story.
There are words, waiting to be written.

Everything begins small.
Your little first steps, to climb up to her.
Mother, from where all your stories begin.

You are trying to climb up to her.
With her open arms, she gently, smiles.
Doubtless, you rise up.
Remember, those were your first steps.

Now, you’re all old, and strong,
Yet, you fear to climb the stairs of life.
Why don’t you trust?

Life is a book.
Why don’t you travel?
Why are you struck at the first few pages?

Let the chaos within burst out.
Even if you can’t see it, the story is weaving.
Thread by thread, into the tapestry of life.

And if words fail, hope remains.
For years to come, hope whispers, it’ll be better.
Better, sweeter, happier. Any more?

You leap through the dark mountains,
Follow storms. Yet, reach up to the stars.
Your first steps again. Do they taste the same?

Soaked in memories, happiness hails.
While sorrows make a wiser tale.
Mistakes, faults  — the chapters you accept,
And do not wish to visit again.

The story of the fool you were, the story of the fool you are.
Wrapped up in few words,
One Adventure, called life.

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A traveler’s muse

In city, my heart was spread so thin that I wasn’t feeling much of anything.
But there on the cliffs, I realized I was near the end.
My heart swelled and then hurt.

A traveler.
Another city.
A fresh chapter begins.
A new community ebbs and flows around.

It’s people.
Their dreams. And hopes.
The strains of Mozart’s music swim in the air,
Gliding through countryside’s many cafes,
Glistening shores where children play,
Cobbled streets, merging with the silhouette of the 0ld fort.

Time rolls.

Then the new friend became a speck on horizon,
The traveler felt a familiar sadness.

Not a story of enemies.
Not a story of friends.
Just a story of strangers, with some memories.

You know a time when you seek happiness, truth?

Not because you’re lost.
But you’re closer to where you’re meant to be.
That time, you’ll be, your own sun.
You’ll know that you’re made up of sunlight, thunder and fireworks.

No matter how far you travel, you can never run away from home.

You’ve got — roots of innovation and wings of imagination!
Let them grow.


“This is a not-so-obligatory present, wrapped up in 500 words.”
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Soulful Travel

Wanderlust
(n.) An irresistible desire to travel to understand one’s very existence

Why do you travel?
Yes, I travel.
To follow the echo,
Of millions of souls I pass by.

Don’t you travel?
We all do.
To soothe the longing ache,
Of your never ending wanderlust.

Day after day, day after day,
To cross seas and rivers
To see the majestic ocean,
Lying idle on the face of earth,
As if admiring the sky.

We bump each other.
Cross paths,
Heading to the same place,
But taking different routes.

Beautiful memories. Summers. Winters.
Grand feasts, gaily dances.
Weaving together, the tapestry of life.
Painting together, the kaleidoscope of sky.

Creating harmonious symphonies,
We leave our shadows behind.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep.
~Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

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And, Did you ever smell a memory?
If no check this blog post and many more!

The One That Got Away.

Close some doors.
Not because of pride.
Incapacity or ignorance.
Or arrogance.

But simply because,
They no longer lead
Somewhere.

Alexithymia
(n.) An inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner

Every word has a meaning. Every silence too.
Words, in their most explicit form, is the best way to express magic!
So, I fall in love everyday,
With ideas and sensations,
With places I’ve never been,
With people I never met.
I hold them long enough to let them go,
But I keep them in my heart
and in my soul.

But she would rather walk alone in darkness than follow anyone else’s shadow.
The Moon Lady
but somethings never change;
like that feeling you get when you haven’t seen someone for sometime now.
like that feeling of two people starting right where they left off.
And then, somethings do change like those two people growing further apart,
But also remembering the little things,
The little similarities that string them back together,
as if nothing ever happened or as if nothing ever drifted them apart.
Or parting them once again, pretending the unfolding of truth between people, who once knew each-other,
who stayed between lines together.
That day you’ll feel sad without knowing why.
Like you lost something precious but forgot what it was,
How hard you may try to remember? 

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Have you heard a truth purer than this?

No fancy musings, but wrote a prayer for the soul this time, rantings of this soul-cafe :

Little rain-drops fall and wrinkle the sea,
They vanish, and die utterly.
One would never know that it rained,
If the whirls didn’t whisper their arrival on the face of sea.

Souls dive down and wrinkle life,
Whence they vanish to the infinity.
One might never know that the souls descend,
If the face of life didn’t unveil wrinkles on its face


Remember a soul never ages, it only grows, wiser each day.
For the those who age are the ones who die.
And souls are not meant for it.
After all the dusk knew what the dawn never expected.

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Why do we travel?

Why do you travel?
Yes, I travel.
To follow the echo,
Of millions of souls I pass by.

To find new paths.
The scent of the fresh grass calls me every time.
Then the north wind whispers.
The sunshine pleads to cross roads,
And deviate.

To follow the flock of birds,
Here and there.
Flutter by. Changing directions.
To follow the rainbow hues.
To reach great places. Sometimes cramped holes.
To get drenched. Or blown away.
To get welcomed, hugged. Or swayed away by nasty faces.

To make friends. Loads of friends, believe me.
To make them feel good. Feel good about themselves.
Called the favorite part of my journey.
Festivities and grandeur.
Pray together, laugh together.

Beautiful memories, grand feasts, gaily dances.
Weaving together, the tapestry of life.
Painting together, the kaleidoscope of sky.
Creating harmonious symphonies,
We leave our shadows behind.

And then there are good-byes.
The part we can’t omit.
But we promise to meet again.
Somewhere. Some place under a different shade.

So, to travel to find the self.
To travel to find my soul.
To travel, because we are searching for a place that makes one feel home.
To believe, one day I’ll find a place,
A place which is worth calling home.
That day I’ll stop. No more travel. Promise.

Yes, I travel.
I get lost.
Yet, I travel.

We all do, on this face of earth.
If not as a poet, then as a poem.

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Don’t you travel?

“Not all those who wander are lost.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Wrote a little folks, hope you like it.

Travel far enough.
Not to find yourself. but to remember who you’ve been all along.

Don’t you travel?
We all do.
To soothe the longing ache,
Of your never ending wanderlust.

To discover infinite paths
Which has no leaps and bounds

Day after day, day after day,
To cross seas and rivers
To see the majestic ocean,
Lying idle on the face of earth,
As if admiring the sky.

We bump each other.
Cross paths,
Heading to the same place,
But taking different routes.

I’m not perfect for your journey,
And you’re not perfect for mine,
But  you’re perfect for your journey,
And I’m perfect for mine.

All things both great and small;
To witness.
My destination is a place might be,
But absolutely a new way of seeing things.

May be the end doesn’t matter.
May be the journey matters most.

May be the places doesn’t matter,
May be whom you travel with matters.

So, every day is a journey filled with twists and turns.
Every day, if you smile, you will feel alive!

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Another question, did you ever smell a memory? Do check the blog post and my personal favorite do you write stories?

Hail the master of all!

“Time and tide waits for none.”


Someone remarked so stoically over a truth of life.

Indeed time is the master of all and servant of none. One who masters the art of managing time the right way succeeds in life.It is the most powerful resource for mankind.  Over the ages humans have evolved an habit of ruining time, being unaware of it’s worth.

Imagine you are struck at a lost island or put it another way that you are lost in nowhere on an island. Both are dangerous. Dark forest, deep oceans, you are  struck at a land of the wild. Then what’s the step to rescue and save oneself. Firstly examine over the resources you have, because the most crucial thing at that time is survival.

Okay, so not beating round the bush I come to a conclusion that TIME is the only resource you can rely upon and could possibly hurry through and help yourself to get out of there.

Period. Come back to your room where you are warming yourselves in cozy couches.Now get up you lazy bee and go manage your time well. Or later if you are not apt at this art you might fail in the game of SURVIVAL.

 

time