Exactly a year back. O.K, may be I am exaggerating a bit. A year and a month back, I wrote about finding a friend on our travels. Since then, I have traveled a lot. This year, incidentally also marks the milestone of my first independent journey. You can read about it here. I have met different people on all these journeys, some just acquaintance, some have grown closer. Some keep in touch regularly. Some have forged special bonds.
These people were strangers. When we met for the first time, we looked at each other. We smiled. As time and the roads grew on us, we opened up to each other. We exchanged pleasantries. We indulged in small talk. As we hiked along the mountains, we woke up to each others on a clear full moon night. We camped in our tents, gazing at the star-studded skies. We shared our sleeping bags, turned out the tent lights and played some cards. We held each others’s hands and crossed some swaying bridges. The Tibetan flags flew so high, bringing an end to our final sky.
On a beach, one night, we lit lanterns together. We woke up in each other’s beds after a night spent dancing and laughing over tequilas. I rallied along the lush paddy fields of a traditional village, while you cooked some delicious palate. You told me stories of how you found yourself and resolved life’s biggest mystery with the number 42.
We frolicked on a Banana boat, forcing lemony mojitos down our throats. You handed me your dry pajamas, while I sulked about being an idiot and wetting all my clothes. Remember the night when I was drunk & panicked when a group of guys approached me to ask if I smoke? All I could do is reply “Don’t touch me, my father’s a hero! Not a joke.” You laughed at my silliness, but still took me to my room safe.
Who thought our friendship would come to such an abrupt end. Why it felt like an empty train. A false dream, it is I hope, because without you I could never cope. Is it an exaggeration to think, of the story with such an anticlimax end?
We met as strangers, parted as friends.
We might not see each other again, but there’s a strange assurance, that some day, our paths will cross again and we will perhaps travel a road together. But until then, we relive the memories in our head and gently shall the path be tread.
5 thoughts on “An ode to the ghosts of the road”
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Nicely written, made me feel a little melancholic. But very prepared for many such heartbreaks…travel can be ruthless…
True Siddhartha. Travel teaches you to meet and then depart 🙂