Recently I went on a tour. It was decided impulsively, with no plans in mind. I just stepped out of my house with my newly bought camera, some clothes and some change in my pocket. For the past few months, I have been facing some severe mental blockage. Throughout the time, my thoughts were completely scattered, and I had been making mistakes after mistakes, and along with that, I had forgotten my drive to write entirely. I find writing to be absolutely therapeutic. No matter how bad I write, I still find peace in it as, to me, it is the best way to vent out an over surge of emotional residuals. It always helped me focus, allowed me to look at what is more important. Because, while people think before and write, I think while I write. I missed this. Writing, typing my problems away.
I have been so scattered, distracted by things that I had almost forgotten the sound of my finger on the keycaps and how therapeutic it can be. Even when I had a shitty laptop with a broken keyboard, I would find the greatest joy in just typing away with my mind being a blank page. I have never written anything structured. Whatever meniality I bring out, they come out of their own volition. Out of the underlying conflict of a duality, my mind possesses. That conflict is always there, doing their job of making my life more pathetic. I have tried many things to keep the voices down, hard drugs to self-harm which I am not proud of, but they persist like cancer.
That day, the emotional torment I had been facing just blew out my fuses. And so, a change of air became mandatory. I called one of my closest friends, offered to tag along, and he did. So on we went.
We had no destination in our minds. We just knew that we had to travel. Go away as far as possible from the ever chaotic cityscape in search of silence. No, I will not make this a travel blog of sorts. Because trips like these are learning opportunities. You get to experience life. Rather than being absorbed in finding cool selfies or photos, it is about experiencing the state of being human. It is not about getting to see pretty scenic landscapes or the usual tourist attractions. It is about the journey itself. Whoever you are at the very beginning of the tunnel, you will always come out as a changed person. No matter how much you resist, you will not remain the same person as before once you see the bright light almost blinding you and showing you something that only you'll see.
Fast forward a few days, I found myself walking on a sandy beach under a full moon deep in the night while nothing but the whistle of an eternal wind coming from the west riding the waves could be heard. I had just finished talking with a lovely woman who had forced me to go on this trip. To collect and pull myself back up again. And all the while I was travelling, I could think of nothing but only her. The beach stretched eleven miles end to end and two miles to the sea on a low tide. It was well past 12, and the moon was halfway back towards where it came from, and all the while I kept walking, I could see no signs of life. There was a dimming light in front of me, and towards it, I kept walking. Sea winds are supposed to be warm. But on such a winter night, it even chills your thickest of bones. As the dimming source of light neared, I could see it be the remnant of a campfire. Someone was there a few moments ago. And then, all of a sudden, I realized how lonely I was. I looked around for whoever had originated the fire. As because it at that point was resembling a tiny one I always held dearly inside my heart. A campfire on a lonely beach. But I couldn't find them.
For a moment, my heart ached and desired even a fraction of a human companion. I regretted not being home. A bit depressed, I sat down on the sands beside the dying fire. In hopes that the night would fly away in a blink, and with it, it would take that chilly cursed wind away. Maybe then, after sitting down for a while as my senses became numb a bit, I had found an answer to a question every human ponders about. Where is my home?
It is a silly question, to be honest. Where is my home? Ask anyone you know, and they'll answer the same thing differently. Tell them to compare what they answered, and they'll have a tough time seeing if they said similar things or not. But then, besides that fire, I had asked myself the same question again. And the duality I have inside me replied the same for the first time.
In the latest pop culture, the movie Thor Ragnarok answered the question close to perfection. It is a stupid movie, to be honest. But sometimes, wisdom comes from unforeseen places. Odin tells Thor that Asgard is his home, and Asgard is the people. Not the palace made of gold, not the land floating through the heavens, looking like heaven. It's the people. Think about that statement for a moment. And if you don't know the answer to yourself, ponder hard, and you might be able to see it too, someday, I hope. But while I had sat there for some time, the realization comforted me, and some Norse god kept the wind moving, I had found the answer to my home. All it took me was a trip of a few hundred miles to a beach on an island called Nijhum.
We lose ourselves to the struggles and happenings of life around us regularly and unfortunately, not everyone gets to find themselves and become a better person of who they used to be but it looks like you have and now all I hope for is that you become a more happy and better person.
Welcome back? (Because I'm not so sure anymore😅)
I am back:3 in a way. Things are coagulated heavily still. Hope things change soon.
Thanks bro:)
Alright.
Usually everyone is busy with mobile phones and cameras when they go for a travel. They do not understand the main joy of travel. You raised this issue. Which carries the mark of your deepest feelings.
That is how it is. We used to care about creating memories. Now all we care about is that one good shot that could be posted on social media. Which has absolutely nothing wrong about it. But too much of it makes the world dystopic.
Home is where heart is, this is never so true when we are away from our dearest ones. And sometimes, I believe, we should be alone to feel that from the deepest part of our hearts.