The wanderer's road

That streak of childishness that hides under our skin, and sways us to rush to see the sun the other way around, is what makes every traveler a born-again child.

Making new memories of not only the encountered sublime sights but of every seemingly inconsequential moment that passed by is what the tourist inside me intends. Be it the idling in the mist-shrouded mountains of Kumaon or in the flat, featureless expanse of countryside, some of my most cherished memories are recollections of just being there, sitting and thinking.

Tourism becomes more than the seeing of sights or an attempt to reach a destination, it becomes the change that is self propelling, pithy and immutable, in the ways of seeing and the ideas of living.

Mostly the happiest moments as tourists always seem to come with any experience of serendipity. For me travelling envelopes even the stumbling upon at the knowledge and understanding of the subtle or conspicuous difference in the way people cry, laugh, grieve, rejoice, eat, worry, celebrate or die.

To the keen eye, even a crumpled dead leaf exudes beauty. The diverseness of the subcontinent that I assimilate in the travel bag of my memory thus becomes overwhelming.

Indulging my passions also in experiencing interesting food, newness, culture-shock and quirks of varied multitude always occupies my mind.

Apart from the easily perceptible beauty of sights and sounds, tourism also involves the social and human background to it. If we reject the food, disregard the customs, fear the religion and stay clear of the people, we might as well stay at home.

But worse than staying at home is to inadvertently bring household issues along with me. Sitting on a beach we will be grouching about money, schedule, reservations, spiritlessness or physical ailments before realizing that happiness can not inherently be introduced in our system by aesthetic surroundings. It comes from introspecting in that setting. Tourism involves those regular considerations but encompasses many unexplored levels above that.

Being able to leave behind what I want to, going where I wish to, making my own decisions as commonplace as they may be, to be greeted well by helpful locals, be without a worry or concern, to not have to stand in line waiting for making a move is what a simple tourist in me hopes for. I find freedom from the life of mediocrity and conventionality and I am bestowed with the inspiration to look for new designs on my expeditions across the country. I regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, I see them as they are. To travel is not just choosing the reasonably cost effective way of getting from point A to point B it is also to “stop worrying about the potholes in the road” and reveling all along.

Arriving and departing is a triviality and thus our destination shouldn’t be a place but rather a new way of looking at things.

a copmtele picrk


I leraned taht eevn if i julbme the wrods up you can sitll raed it ptrety eaisly.
but taht is not good enuogh raeosn to mkae you go crzay.

so i won't act like a prick and spell staright.

This is actually a test to guage the readers interest level .

If he manages the first two lines he believes he is a virtuoso adept at decoding cryptic trash.
But according to a proven study if you jumble the spellings so that the first and the last letters are in the original order and the remaining letters deranged.....you know what follows.


Back to the point. WHY PEOPLE LOVE TO BE A PRICK.

the attention... nah
just for kicks... other corny stuff available.
fashionably rude... great new cult...but not reason enough
just so others remember me... any amount of assholishness can get that done
shocking way to philander...(when females in picture) very close....
attitude on display... what are the hideous cliches like "get a life" & " not my type" for then.


so the reason why people act like pricks is somewhere deeply ensconced in their psyche.

inside all of us is a natural prick ( i use it as a vulgar address for people who like irritating others at the concious expense of being hated)...

all of us just don't let it out.

some are intrepid.they do let go.they want to relate to their inner self.

The cocnluison is taht eevn if is't not for teh enmnureated reaosns we can jeoarpidse our otuer shlel and beahve lkie PRICKS.
I's a wohle nwe wrold.
Relish it.