A treat of Indian Western Coast

A Solo Bike Trip: Delhi to Kanyakumari

Why is there a new hymn about the journey and not the destination? What does it take to be a traveler? What does it take to travel six thousand km on a bike? These are the few questions apart from managing funds, putting a month’s leave from office at stake, convincing your parents, and believing in yourself to accomplish a dream. So in between all this fuss, it was my time to travel from Delhi to Kanyakumari, my dream trip. With two days of planning for surviving twenty days on the bike from only here to there. With a beautiful start from the Arawalis of Rajasthan, sunset at Daman, kissing the Dudhsagar Waterfalls, riding from the Deccans, through the streets of Kerala, arriving at the Southernmost tip of India, Kanyakumari; A destination of not dreams but a journey above the dreams. Yes, it looks haphazard because the trip was too unplanned, but filled with adrenaline, with always decreasing fuel level and my pocket, but the enthusiasm was always there. It was all about the roads, my riding capacity, and my excitement to get the answers to so many questions. Now let’s not dig to the answers but the journey of finding these answers!!

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Photogenic

More than photogenic, more than scion of nature,

More than full of life, more than amazing creature,

More than dancing soul, more than sassy,

High in character and more than classy!

Through the Wall

Some times it is not about the experience but about the stature,

Sometimes it is more about the history and it’s clatter,

Sometimes it is not about the buzz you create,

Sometimes it is more about how quite you remain

Sometimes it is not about how tall you stand

Sometimes it is more about how long you stand!

Perfect Green

Jaipur, India

Moon sparkles the admiring sheen,

Beautiful the nature simply endeavor to lean.

Narrow green but admire the boulevard,

Love the nature to remain unheard.

Dreaming yet standing Tall

Albert Hall, Jaipur, India

The illusion or dream of adolescence,
Destined to zenith or in verge of penance.
The smile, the laugh, the voyage to dream,
From a struggler to the meticulous beam.
A craze which incorporated to be the one,
The Sparks of echelon is like the son of sun.

Albert Hall

Jaipur, India

Passing through the Midas never resides to allure,
Falling down is like the shower which has to be pure.
Brain, thinking and sieving to touch the need,
Paying the blood for the thought I creed.
Running through the bark for the dream,
Lying with the pearl for the eclectic sheen.
Beacon craving the veil of ordeal,
Admiring the bow, as it aficionado the range of feel.

From mirror to canvas

Jaipur, India

A trip is not just a travel,

It’s a cruise of exploration and marvel,

Like stages are not just for show,

It’s for the showman for whom people bow.

Every dome has it’s own story

The legacy to believe, the wisdom to carry,

Crest at pinnacle, always high, handsome and vary,

The beautiful lightnings in the pink city,

The museum stood tall in war and amity.

Air all around

History has gifted the glory in it’s shell,

From the pierce of magnificence to a adoring bell,

Sometimes lights bares out the rarity,

Our ancestors led this charismatic verity.