Someone once told me that travel should be about meeting people, having shared meals, conversations that linger well past the alcohol is over and the last cigarette stub lies under the sole and then wake up in the morning to say goodbye to never meet again, just remember that this also happened.
Someone once told me that travel should be about meeting people, having shared meals, conversations that linger well past the alcohol is over and the last cigarette stub lies under the sole and then wake up in the morning to say goodbye to never meet again, just remember that this also happened.
This was before whatsapp and social media made it almost impossible to be 'not in touch'. I scoffed at it then, a rather immature version of me (not that things have improved), but I think of it now. And wonder what if.
What if I do a trip with people who I know not too much, meet people who I know not at all, just be open. Open to experiences, open to different thoughts, open to different. And want to know more.
I was in Tawang last year and in a bar, unusually drinking with someone who I had met a few hours ago. And some other random people.
Aside - Tawang, being a border town, is full of army men (yes, the absence of the gender neutrality is deliberate). A few drinks down and everyone is garrulous, ready to shift chairs and chit chat. The natural tendency is to talk politics.
Back to story - A gentleman who works for the armed forces (not as a soldier) and a few more drinks down than he could handle told me about how 'bloody Madrasis' were not like the Punjabis and the Punjabis could give it back as hard as they got and the Madrasis were soft. I remember not taking offence (well most of the time, I am not sure where to pigeon hole myself being a Malayali from Calcutta and ending up not identifying with either group) and in fact hoping he continues to blabber because I just wanted to hear.
And then, I think back at the random travels to remember the people I have met, from a Swiss-Russian elderly couple in Zanzibar who had just got together and to (at?) whom I decided to show off my non existent French knowledge. I know more than 'fu tres tu' and 'Vous les vous, kucher avec moi', thank you very much. It might be one sentence more, but it is more.
To the Ukranian naval folks who work on boats (what is the fancy term for these when they are owned by rich folks, yachts?) owned by rich Middle eastern sheiks and travel during their time off.
To the Indian origin American going through Fort Kochi during the Bienalle.
To the SriLankan who thought Indians came only to the island to gamble.
To the artisans in Tanzania who thought I was not married because I don't wear a ring.
To the Japanese trekkers who laughed at us as we sat our way across a very steep climb in Hampi.
To the Israelis in Goa whose 6 month sea-side stay was interrupted by a 6 month manual labour time back home.
To the Bhutanese tour guide who took us to his mom's restaurant (free of cost) because I mentioned I wanted to have yak meat.
To the scuba diving instructors in Lakshadweep who were just excited that I was from Kerala (ah, that existential question of who am I?)
To the Goan shack guy who said I was from the Caribbean (racist much? also high me thinks!)
These are all random people who I have had chats with and thought I would not remember their existence till I sit down today to type out this blog and more than the destination, more than the pretty places, more than the touristy things I have ticked off from my list, conversations is what I remember inspite of being absolutely sure I will never be meeting these people ever again.
This brings me to a trip that I want to do, with no destination in mind, with no idea about pit stops, with no idea about co travellers, with just going here, there, everywhere to immerse myself, to hear, see, take in.
To doing that trip, to not knowing where to go but to just keep going, to not knowing who to meet but be open to meeting, to not knowing when to do but knowing I will do!
TO NEW!
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