In search of ...
I like to travel. But when people ask me why I prefer travelling. I ask them whether one needs to have reasons for everything they do. They don't reply. I like to travel because I am in search of a place which can keep my mind away from the myriads of memories that haunts me. Yes, It is a recluse that I am searching for.
The moment I reach my travel destination, I try to weave a new world for me there. Laboriously, bit by bit, I make my new world. A place where nobody knows me and place where I know nobody. A place where I am content because for a miniscule of time I am free from myself, my old self.
It doesn't take much time for my new world to coalesce into the old one. Suddenly, I am not a stranger for the people around. And strangers around me are no more strangers. Then a uncanny resemblance of my newly built world start to form. The very same resemblance that I wish to shed off.
I pack my bags in search of the next destination, in search of my recluse.
So yes, I like to travel because it gives me hope.
Picture courtesy: Me :)