The tale of two cities

And we arrive in Kuala Lumpur. For the first couple of days it feels pretty lonely. I have no prior reference to fall back on, no friends who talk or understand my language and no streets that my feet know from years of travelling. It’s amazing how we take the smallest of things for granted in our daily lives and how those small things become jarring and attention worthy in a different land.

For example, back home I never looked twice at the texture or colour of our currency. Suddenly in Malaysia ‘money’ became currency and there were moments today when I was baffled to see this different note in my hand. People here are very quite. They are quiet on the streets, in malls, in trains, even the kids. In Mumbai, forever my wish was to have some peace and quiet. In all honesty, I have had long colourful fantasies of throwing giggling college girls and loud aunties from the train window. Today, the absence of this chaos was more disquieting than anything else. I felt as if I am walking in a land of zombies really. 

I also have no qualms in confessing that never and I mean never had I thought that I shall be feeling all of this. I have lived alone for more than 5 years and anyone closely acquainted with me knows my love for silence and loneliness. And yet, I am feeling all of this and more. I think one of the reason is the fact that prior to this my loneliness was by my own design. I could end it whenever I wished to. Today, that is not the case. There are external factors that are controlling the situation and frankly, I can’t do anything about them. It is sitting here in a beautiful hostel in Malaysia that I realize that control is the most difficult thing to let go.

No, I am not a control freak. Not even close. For the longest time (till last week actually) I prided myself in being the one who can ‘flow with the wind’ and let things come to her. But it was only today that I realized that while I never did seek to actively control things in my life, I knew in the back of my mind very clearly and definitively how things would turn out to be, with the given choices and options. I had people to fall back on, people to blame, people who would take the blame and places where I could confess and move on. There was certainty in life.

When you are travelling, specially outside your country, there is no certainty of anything. Where the bus comes from, where will you get vegetarian food (if at all), is it okay to be out till late, is it okay to crack a joke with the locals. Nothing. And this my friend is the crux of it all. The reason I was on the road.  

In life if you take away certainty then all that is left is you, your core and your senses. It prepares you for the worst while it shows you the best. Travel, I feel is the only good way I know to bring this uncertainty in life. The one that helps me meet me. The one that will show me my truth in all its colours, frustration and calmness. The one that will make me help live with myself day after day, year after year, decade after decade.