Monday, July 21, 2008


I have a habit of dreaming about travel. I like to travel and I do travel, but not as much as I would like to. This makes me want to travel, and leads me to dream about travelling. Of fast trains and blurring views. Of majestic views atop mountains, of rapid rivers, calm seas, magnificent metropolises and quaint bucolic pastures.

This dreaming has progressed to such an extent, that I find it has become a hobby in its own right. I pointlessly look up pictures of strange places, possessed by an intense desire to be there, to experience it all. I want to stand by ‘Christ the Redemptor’ at Rio. I want to see Stonehenge. To be silenced by the Victoria falls, bustled about in Hong Kong and look at the Mona Lisa. To see the Aurora Borealis inflame the skies above Helsinki, cross the Danube on foot, Be enamoured by Hollywood. I want to travel down every road that goes somewhere and be on a train to a far-off destination. I want to see it all, have it all. Be everywhere.

Strangely enough when I do visit places, a profound sense of anticlimax dawns on me and I can only look at whatever I went to see. How much ever you believe in the journey being the real manzil, there must be a frisson of excitement when one reaches the destination. All I have instead is a jaded feeling of ennui.

Wanderlust ever conspires to waylay weary travelers. And that is how I find myself on the roads time and again. The pleasures gained on making a monumental journey to see ancient wonders and boast of having been to foreign lands, the pleasure of seeing your very own neighborhood after heavy rains, are they the same? Does geographical disparity interfere with the traveler’s conscience? Would I be as happy to spend a night at Hanoi, trek through Darfur or prance about in Patagonia?

And amidst such nebulous thoughts I am suddenly drawn back to the mundane world with the familiar ping on gtalk.

*Picture-Kaveri delta near Karaikal, TN, India


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swatimala said...


crumpledpapers said...

i know what you mean buddy.
part of it is because we build up this monumental image about our destinations in our mind.
second reason behind it would be having seen too much. if you have seen a lot, there is little that can excite you.
and the third and the reason i think you don't enjoy your travels much is that you are not doing it all with a special someone as your idiomatic 'humsafar'. maybe a good company and romanticism in the air might excite you more on your next adventure.
either ways, you cant stop enjoying life but for the absence of another person. so enjoy whilst you can. board that bus and walk down the trails, look at the pretty birds and gaze at the sunsets and sunrise, marvel at the tall mammoth structures and enjoy a simple burger in the ubiquitous Mac(yes... they are absof***inglutely everywhere!!!)...

buddy said...

your comment as so well written, it must be a post of its own!

crumpledpapers said...

then make it one... you may call it wanderlust reasoned....
give credit to me though... [:)]

padmaja said...

Actually we're supposed to enjoy the pre-travel & post-travel more than the travel itself...
The anticipation and endless planning and the count-down... and after we come back, we re-live it with friends and families...
This was revealed to me in a management work-shop I attended years ago...
I thought it was weird in the beginning, but realised it is so true.. :)
Traveling always opens up my mind & recharges me :)

buddy said...

hmm..never thought about that before!

Anonymous said...

I agree with 'crumpledpapers' on having the right kind of company when you travel. It can make a whole world of a difference in making a journey as pleasurable and reminiscent or just as torturous and forgettable.
I'd say, the journey is what establishes whether or not we're truly going to savor the joys of visiting the romanticized destination.
Also, Looks like I share with you the 'See it all, know it all, do it all' gene! Long lost twin?