The Mole on My Right Foot

It feels like ages since I wrote and it is true, the last one that I wrote dates June 20th more than a month ago.

I will tell you with audacity that I escaped. I absconded to a place where my stubbornness took me and I was thankful to that.  I escaped into the hills, the woods and the waters. I succumbed to the lust of highlands and meadows and not even for a second the thought of acting reckless disrupted my activities.


Isn’t it always that way, when you look through the changing geography outside the tempered glass of your AC compartments, you come to this sudden epiphany that you are not visiting places, you are visiting yourself. The second of thought when you realize, lets be selfish in finding what’s lost within me.  And it even gets worse when its night and you don’t know why but staring at the darkness seems irresistible.

When I left my job and came home, I was in this state, where my mother pointed out I was taking the nihilism route. And a few days later and with the help of THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY, I deduced that of all the things from my bucket list travelling was brimming the charts. It wasn’t until my mom said how my dad would always complain that I have never come home for more than a week, ever since I left my college.

“You’ve no idea how badly I want to travel”, I remember saying this to my dad and within a fortnight we were travelling. But what my dad kept in the store that it was an elaborate road trip talking us through routine landscape involving mountain roads and passing clouds (and some ice) which turned out to be the greatest plan to beat the summer.

Before I open up my travel chronicles on reminiscence, I have to confess that we didn’t travel a lot when we were little. My dad was stationed as a permanent employee at this company where he still works and so it didn’t leave much scope for us to travel. Although once in a while, I still remember that we would go to my grandma’s place and rejoice.

I guess maybe that is where I got my bug from. I have a lot of friends from army and banks who traveled across the country and almost 90% of them hated that life, only if they would have seen it from my eyes, they would have known it was like a dream. So yes, there is that.

As my brain was weighing the potential of ONE FIFTH AVENUE to keep me entertained while travelling I packed my bags, ironed my clothes, wrapped my shoes and listened to “ON TOP OF THE WORLD” in a loop I made a brain note of keeping my fingers crossed. I didn’t want to jinx it.

Yes, whenever I traveled, I would be super excited about it. It isn’t like I was travelling for the first time but I will not say that I have traveled enough (that would be nirvana). But for whatever reason I know this, that to all of us this brings a lot of emotions in common, anxiety and nostalgia.

Now that I am back home, relaxing my back as the rains descend from the sky, I am done with the anxiety part of travelling, I am eagerly waiting for my nostalgia to kick in whilst realizing the chemistry of travel as a perfect cocktail of adrenaline, serotonin and endorphin and all such happy hormones. 


P.S: The title comes from the infamous superstition that having a mole on the right foot means you have immense love for travelling and it’s a true statement i.e. I do have a mole on my right foot.


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