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!!
Once impeccable, then hails the odyssey, Once down to roots, hails the legacy, Once the greenery is spread, hails the beauty, Once it survives, it becomes a necessity.
Let me wish, to witness you, Let me adore, the beautiful you, Let me see the colors of you, Let me fly just like you.
A lot lies in colors, Just like it owns a life in flowers, A lot lies in nature, Ironically just like a lot lies in creature. Still everything is scenic in it’s own sense, Just like you photograph, to show your sense.
Either a charisma, either the elegance. Beauty signifies the craze of nuance. Sagacity is beckoned by the serenity of persona, Like the sheen of eyes or the remedy like soma.
Pune, India In the dusk after the noon, Sparkling the swish across the moon. Neither the black but still nor the white, Mesmerized by honcho, as all aficionados the light.
Pune, India Speed of thunder but calmness of rill, Like fear of mighty at the hill. The sugar voice with a bold admiration, The canvas plight with a determined ammunition.
Pune, India Neither I think to love nor to admire, It’s my soul which will never mire. The friendship, the mate, the group to laud, True amicability provides the warmth of God.
Pune, India Sometimes you can’t the predict the charm, Sometimes you misjudge the warmth, Sometimes you don’t look the mere light from clouds, But always try to heal from the wounds.