Let this journey be the panorama of our lives!

Traveling via road, few inches above the road (railways), miles above the ground (airways) or sometimes on the water, one thing is common which is here to stay, a part of our brain preserving the moments built upon it.

Distantly it may appear like I am circling around Highway. But isn’t it obvious sometimes that most of the missed vacations in life tend to appear like missed milestones. Come by any means, a journey or a trip should never be missed and if possible should be cashed in, only to keep the memory register of life ringing and never ending.

Silence is a mute musical note that plays continuously while we are in conversation with ourselves. Realized and learning since.

We cannot ignore the fact that India is hostile, for female gender in particular. The biggest fear in every girl is the fear of forced physical relationship. And once a person is satisfied of the fact that he/she is safe, the other person knows his lines and is dignified, paves a path for wonderful friendship and following that if stupidity finds a cupid then love occurs.

Measuring the road with no fear, speed is just an indicator how fast air is passing through hair and patting the cheeks while you peek out of the window. Night takes over and no bed for her, but sleep comes good, supported on a stitched old bed sheet, no conditioned air but filtered air coming from all around through trees and padded lush green fields.

A new faith is instilled in so called yet to be seen but always felt good old- God. Amid the stoppage in the journey and lightning up few incense sticks to ask God, please handle the steering wheel along with me.

Most of the times we say instantly in fraction of a second, when someone asks, how are you? And there was an answer in Highway—“Ruk, soch ke batata hoon!!”

Luxuries and a life that is made to find/set a rapport with money and extra facilities. And suddenly landing in a place where basic amenities are in abundance and much over the time is available in ample quantity and quantity. Here is a near cousin to quality- a home in the lap of nature and actual organic food along with goodies of the nature wrapped in greenery. Life actually seems good and worthy.

She said it right, “I don’t want to go back, neither I want to reach where we are going, I just want to travel. Keep walking the days and sleep the nights. And meet the end where this road ends and milestones are hard to be found.”

It’s not necessary; to live and die at the same place. Doesn’t this mean we were stagnant amid the earth was moving, we were skating and that too when someone pushes us from the back.

Sometimes the roof of a bus appears much pleasant than sun roof of a luxury sedan. Not the difference in opinion but the difference in living life is the thin line that is invisible but can be felt.

A cinematic journey, the wish to visit a place that nature guards and nurtures at the same time. May be off the lines- but quintessential, the North East India – Assam, Arunachal Pradesh, Sikkim and other states. They are picturesque no doubt in that, but they deserve attention too.

Not the elections, neither a tragedy, nor a calamity but equality. It’s not a good sign that most of urban locals don’t even know the existence of this niche in country though directors, researchers and photographers do find a delight here.

To wrap up this word road, My feminist view:

A daughter pleading to her father- “Please don’t get me married with a business tycoon.”

Father asks, “Why?”

“He will imprison me in the mansions and my walk will be limited, limited to the barricaded corridors of lavish mansion. Also please don’t get me married to a gold smith.”

Again the father asks, “Why?”

“He will burden me with all the ornaments and jewels.”

“Then whom do you want to get married to?”

“I want to get married to a blacksmith. He will break the chains locked in my ankles that control the length of my walk, I want to walk free and run amid.”

Good weekend ahead folks. Stay safe and good.

P.S.

Kushal Wadhwani, an aspiring writer will be presenting a short story in parts, starting from this Sunday onwards. A part of the story will be published every weekend. Here is the prelude of the story–

The tradition says, “The words will always say the truth. A hand written piece of paper will never solve the purpose of a lie neither will defend a lie and it will always serve the truth, no matter how loud the lie may appear and it will help the future to be brighter than ever it was.”

“In left pocket of the shirt there is a letter that is supposed to be delivered to the person. The name of the person is written on back side of the letter. The person serving as the postman in this scenario is indeed the one that will turn to be messenger from the God.”

“Make sure these letters reach the place where they are meant to,” Colonel said and left.

Will the ends meet and prove that a prefect life exists? Or it may well prove that everybody lives and die eventually and the time lived between is not more than a passenger travelling on paid basis. What if words such as faith, friendship, bravery and patience find a meaning in books only? Rumi decided to see all these words during this lifetime. Will she succeed?

Coming your way is a short story, a story about brave decisions, patience and faith.