I write, as the last bidi finds it’s way into the ashtray. I write this at 04.30 in the morning.
Writing, because the backpack resting at the corner of my room, stares at me, with a little dust settled on the un-promised adventures.
Next to it lies a pair of trekking boots, yearning to go out there.
Aching of restfulness, lies a rugged camouflage jacket on the chair.
Next to the chair is a table full of maps.
Maps of hamlets and towns, sleeping at the moment.
Thus, sweet sleeps the travel journal, dreaming of the blank pages to be bloomed by the awaited adventures.
So, wakes up the wandering soul!
P.S : This is dedicated to all you travellers out there, aching of wanderlust! To all the mountain beasts caught in the concrete jungle. I love you all, I really do! And soon, we shall all embark on a new adventure! Until then, I know my pep talk doesn’t help much!