Where life hardly gives time to live, how often does one
find an eye to appreciate the small little beautiful things on Earth? The sight
of a leaf swaying against the wind, the sound of the birds flapping its wings, the
feeling of making grass your bed for the night and the peace on waking up to an
early morning open sky, sadly goes unnoticed on every ambitious minute spent. Aren’t these the very reason to live? In what
one does to make for a living, life is made the cost. The mindless humans don’t
understand that they are in search of something that they actually have in
their own hands. Life is a paradox which is lost when is searched for. How
frustrated is one’s life ironical to what an old proverb says is beautiful. The
proverb isn’t wrong, only on-the-run reality makes it so.
When such an average frustrated soul seeks solace, a travel agent gets a phone call.
A holiday is synonymous to heaven. That is only when one
shrugs off his responsibilities and pressures of an everyday life and gets a chance
to actually live for a change. He gets to be a carefree child once again. He then forgets God,
instead becomes one. One such holiday it was.
Work and duties had to wait, as finally the long-planned family
holiday was about to take shape. The mood was upbeat and bags were packed with
the ever-lasting last minute stuff-ins. The very feel of missing the everyday
routine of life was refreshing to start with. Crossing the seas
wasn’t such an odd event as it may have seemed a generation before. It was parts
of Europe this time for us. Most of it which is called ‘developed’ that we, as
Indians, crave to emulate. The silent proud Indian in me was in no mood to feel
any inferior as it whispered, ‘let them show me what they have got!’
The flight is always a pain when it comes to the long-wait hours
of immigration and check-ins. Not to mention that the wait had to be on sleepy
hours. It had to be more yawns than smiles to start the tour off. Food had
started to be more flesh than green even as we left our country’s borders. We had to live on breads and salads from then
on. I couldn’t have praised our idlys and dosas ever before as then. A few
movies available on board kept us away from a bore while we touched down in
Paris.
The best part of visiting a place foreign to you is in
understanding how different the culture of people there is. It is amazing to
see how geography changes the living ways of people. Not more than a few
hundred kilometers apart from each other the ways of life get to be different. Their
taste for food, idea of fun and the very definition of good and bad will make
one’s senses feel so different to what it was practised to. The history and
architectural distinctness is another trait of the place to decipher and like
about on a travel. The awesomeness of climate and people around you on the tour
would be the perfect icing on the cake to make for a soothing holiday.
The tour began on a coach which took us around the city of Paris.
The history of the French revolution and the courage of Napoleon Bonaparte were
on showcase everywhere. The native people there were so busy on the outlook. The
bright sunny day was keeping them on their toes. For being popularly known as
the fashion capital of the world, they barely had clothes on. What seemed summer
to them had us wearing sweaters and jerkins.
Just the visual difference to our part of the world kept the
cameras on full duty. It was perfumery and leather all over to pick from but
for the frightening price tags. Some had me wondering if the prices were quoted
in Rupees rather than in Euros. The city
of love had me feeling bad for not having my girl around. A day later it was
time for the most beautiful city of Europe – Brussels, to be witnessed.
The land of chocolates and waffles was a treat to spend time
in. The beauty of the city was eye-catching. The discipline in the people was
so obvious that had a few in our tour group bad remark about Indians in
comparison. The fire was fueled with the talk on our cleanly ways with respect to theirs; leaving me to ponder upon the causal thoughts for it. I began comparing and analyzing
the people I saw there to our very own. I eventually found out, it all boiled
down to the satisfaction levels of the basic needs of people. When you have what you want to live, life
becomes easy to be mannered. How could one expect discipline in people who fight
to survive for a living. It is when the rat gets out of its race, does it care
for its neighbourhood. So I soon realised there is no point in comparisons at
all. I have started to laugh out since, when I read statistics these days
saying India is ranked so far low to others in so and so. I then made myself
believe I belonged to the place I was to, to live it to the fullest.
With a few chocolates in our shopping bag, we left Belgium
for Germany. Germany was full of speedy cars and churches. The Mercedes Benz
museum in Stuttgart showed how sexy cars can be. The Germans had forgotten
about Adolf Hitler. They didn’t want us talking about him and the world wars. Their
language, German sounded so different to our ears. Actually, being in a foreign
place gave us the license to use our language at will. We could spell out our
momentous frustrations in deep flavoured Tamil on them with a confidence of
them not knowing a word in it. More or less the tongue had survived on the
pleasure of the Tamil language than on the taste of food. The not-so-good
feeling of local food in the air brought back desperate memories of spice in
our homeland. Few spells of rain late in the evening, however, made the place
blissful.
All this bought us to the final pit-stop on the tour, the
picturesque Switzerland. The lakes in each city of Swiss, the swans in it and
the nature around the place had swept each one off our feet. You had to be
there on the snow of the Alps Mountain to see the peak of beauty that nature
had on offer. No girl could be as pretty-looking as she was that day. The coach left our
hearts behind and took us back to the city en-route picture perfect grasslands.
Even as all this was there to feel and enjoy on the drive, people spent the
passing second clicking pictures to boast and hobnob to satisfy their egos with
supremacy. I pitied them as Nature is best felt, and not photographed. I even wondered if for some people life was what others felt about them and not what
they did.
After eight days of true life, the beaming hot sun of
Chennai welcomed us back in India with sweat as its greeting present. The very
prospect of getting back to a hard-paced
life-robbing life made the last week’s time so special and important.
No matter where a holiday is to and whom it is with, it
revives one’s senses and makes it as some of the most memorable days spent on
Earth. Life is designed to be beautiful. It should only be felt so. Let not the
pressures of life rob the beauty in it.
With the pleasure of many more holidays to come with you
people,
nagappstheblogger!!!
