While I was hearing the stories from my friend who just came back from her backpacking trip, I noticed a strange smile on her face. A smile which only grew wider and wider as she goes around sharing her experiences, which she collected from her very first solo backpacking trip. While we engaged ourselves discussing her valuable memories and challenges she faced, the smile on her face had a different story to tell. This was not about the trip alone. This was something else.
I remember when I first backpacked Ladakh, it took me ages to get back to my normal routine. During my sleep, I would just dream of the beauty I left behind, to lead a life in metro. My heart would kick me to get back to this pristine beauty. I felt happier talking about my trip to Ladakh and making them a part of my story-telling. It actually used to make me feel good.
Years passed and I took many backpack trips to a lot many places, but everytime I have come back, I had even more inclination to go back. Deep inside I also kept arguing on what kept me so intrigued to these places that I always want to get back. Why I always feel to escape home to be somewhere else. Why Iam in love with the majestic himalayas. Why I get up early to catch a glimpse of morning sun and just smile, when I lay down in bed till 10 AM at my home. Why I feel elated to be there. Why I always find answers there. Finally I have the answer. And probably the reason why I love travelling.
I discovered ‘Self-less-ness’…