I have travelled quite a bit, seen a few things here and there. Travelling is good.

It is necessary to take time out of our lives, turn off those bright screens which we see all day and just catch a train.

A nice train compartment, a hot cup of coffee, a good book or some blank pages, and one Pen. The Poet always needs the Pen, pun intended. That is an amazing way to start a journey, if one likes to travel solo.

Traveling with friends is amazing, helps you to connect, bond, explore and make memories for a lifetime but there is something about travelling solo.

I remember my old days when I used to kick start my motorbike and take on the roads. No pre-fixed destination, just going where the path leads me to. I used to ride for hours, accelerate on highways and open roads, stop at small roadside shops or gas stations for a cup of tea and then carry on with my adventure. Lately, I have been missing those days. I would love to go on such trips again but thats okay. Someday I will.

A traveller travels for the novelty of it,

A fresh life with each morning star.

As fancy as it sounds, it is hard to commit,

It is not just about the places afar.

Each mile stores millennium worth moments,

Waiting to be explored by the travelling gambler.

Richness of difference is life’s endowment,

Appreciable only by a fellow traveller.

With a crowd or alone, to field or hills,

Remains at liberty with the desperate dweller.

Capturing the world in the form of stills,

Only gets sweeter for the gazing teller.

A Traveller