To have traveled

On NY times I read ,
"Travel is the art form available to Everyman. You sit in the coffee shop in a strange city and nobody knows who you are, or cares, and so you shed your checkered past and your motley credentials and you face the day unarmed. Bravery! Adventure! Defeat! Survival! And onward we go and some day in the distant future, we will stop and turn around in astonishment to see all the places we’ve been and the heroes we were."

Wow! this spoke to me, this reminded me of why I love traveling though I detest packing...why even when money is scarce , I want to travel; why even when time is fleeting, I want to capture that moment when I grew; when a single night by myself in an alien country turned out to be an adventure that I survived unscathed; when it felt so wonderful to tell Mom stories of my escapades, and of course when I sit and turn the pages of my painstakingly made scrapbook ,there are so many moments that I have in the humdrum routine of life forgotten but then they come back with a flash, and I exclaim, "Oh my God that gondola ride was stunning ! " and I thank God that I have traveled.

to read

It's cloudy outside
And there's a nip in the air
Everything seems to be alive
Me too

I wish I could just curl up with a book
And read it from the first page
to the last without a break
just like that

Those days are gone
when I could do just that
But I wonder if something in my power
can't bring it back

I will definitely try
But I might fail
however as they said ,
not to try is to fail anyway.