Chasing Cities...

I want to chase the endless sunrises, I want to fulfil those promises of tomorrow;

The sand beneath my feet, the ocean that threatens to make me its own.

That wildness that pulsates in the dreams of millions, to tread on the paths that haven’t yet been shown.

But most of all, I want to chase cities with endless roads and the sparkle of the bright lights and blaring horn,

Wandering towards the dreams that my brave heart reserves, Only to return into the warm cuddle of my own home.

“Breathe, You are home.” I have always wanted a love that told me this.

I fleeted from heart to heart in search for it. The rom-coms have been digging up my hunger for the want of my Happily Ever After. That magical glance, those bells of fantasy ringing in the ears, that electrifying touch, the coalescing of the two souls and bodies, and that falling and rising in love. I hungrily waited for my prince, found him, lost him and so on... Sometimes it lasted for a moment and sometimes months or even years. Sometimes, I found people who wanted to share and fulfil their own desires and sometimes I found those who wanted to support my dreams. Sometimes I found someone who tried to give me scars and sometimes them, who tried covering mine with their kisses. Some wanted to anchor my wild heart and some wanted to give me stability.

But maybe my heart was never meant to be stable and the wildness could be only tamed by chaos. I don’t blame them; I never knew that, so how would they. But as I grew and learnt, there was no looking back. So I stitched my chest back up, hid my heart behind those scars, plastered a smile on my face and off I went.

I was charmed by moving to the new cities. ‘How do these nomads manage to be on the go always, Don’t they get tired?’ , this childhood query had become a way of life for me. I was dazed by the new streets, the new places that I would share with strangers. The thousand year old temple laden lanes of Chennai, or the bustling streets of Banaras on the ghats of river Ganga, the never stoppable spirit of Mumbai or the freshness of Nagpur, the warmth and scorching heat of Ahmedabad or the wet, cold weather of London, they all have been mine. And within these superficial qualities of the cities that I have lived in, are interwoven innumerable stories, the stories that are mine, the stories that make me, Me...

The unknown hello’s with promises to make great friends. Exploring the new places and new people gave me an adrenaline rush. It was like a treasure hunt, only in real life- discovering tiny secrets about new cultures, tasting their accents and dialects and trying to mingle. But what I loved the most was the packet of dreams that each place brought with itself. May it be a truth or a fantasy but it was a way of looking forwards to new things. It was like living a sunrise, ever so sparkly. The timidity of breaking the ice and the fear of saying a good bye became a thing of history. Discovering the fragility of the relationships (of any form), and the strength of the heart in believing in goodness within people was the most liberating lesson.

And somewhere between those shy hellos and forgotten good-byes, I found the love I so wanted. I found it in the crowds that didn’t care, the streets that refused to retire, the lights that shone too bright and the darkest silences in the night. It was the Love with myself, my story, and the cracks in my heart which let the light shine in.