Travelling...

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?