Lately I've realised what an impact
travelling has had on me. Not even travelling, but just the fact that
we're going out of the country, leaves me with an excitement and
anticipation like nothing else. New experiences have changed the way
I look at countries; now, it feels as though every place is a new
world – different cultures, different languages, and different
people.
I think the best example of my feelings
would be my emotions after the Singapore – Kuala Lampur trip that
we took last October. To be honest, one place has merged with the
other and I have lost sense of what actually happened where. Yet,
this journey acted as a trigger and opened me up to a whole new part
of the world. Suddenly, I have an irrational desire to know
everything, everything, about
the cultures of the countries which can be called 'Oriental'. China,
Japan, Korea, there's not one place I don't want to learn about.
Watching movies like The Karate Kid has only strengthened my wish.
It's funny how two of
my English chapters – one about Sadako Sasaki and the other about
an old Chinese women – brought back a flood of memories of the trip
(though somewhat jumbled). I've realised that small things around you
– how the sky looks, or a topic you are learning about in school –
can immediately transport you to a country you have previously
visited (if only for a moment).
Now,
almost four years after moving to India, and two years after our last
trip, we are going back to the
US again. Having lived there,
that
country crops up more in my
thoughts and dreams than any
other place. But the knowledge that we are going back, for two
blissful weeks, is something I'm savoring. It has
surprised even me, how much I have
missed the US. Like how I always feel before a trip, my thirst for
adventure has increased. Yet going back to the
US is unlike visiting any other country, where most things remain
unknown. There's a draw to my beloved America, a single, strong
thread in my heart which
connects me to the country halfway across the world. There are random
times when I become nostalgic for all the friends and experiences I
had ever had there.
Like I have said before, that large country, those experiences and
people are a part of me and always will be, though they may not be
thought of
everyday.
One
thing that I have realised is that before any trip, my imagination
starts running. My brain builds stories on stories, creating
fantasies which I enjoy for days together. Of course, the trip is
often nothing like my stories (which involve adventure and magic),
but it manages to surprise me nonetheless. And after all, what's the
harm in dreaming?
