Travelling Hangovers

 i love travelling. i love the liberation that is there for offer. i can sit in a motor boat and believe that i am chasing the sun. i can disrobe on the white beaches with only the rays of sun to bother me. feel undisclosed in a disclosed location. abandon the teeming billions that are left behind ,and that inhabit every minute of my life, the moment i board the plane.

what is it about casual romances? does a huge age difference really make that big a difference? dancing with strangers is fun. Especially if those strangers turn out to be suave and interesting men. The moments that give promises and projections that trick the mind completely and whole-heartedly. the abstractions cloud out the reality giving a fluffy touch to everything that i do.

noticing the sun set from the 64th floor of a building. salted pistachios and olives along with bitter vodka with the lights of the city just coming into focus from the heights of the stately tower in the city of the night dwellers.

touring the freak shows of the likes of the goblin market. playing abacus and hammer games at the bar table with shots at stake. smoking a cigarette with a beer in hand and pretending to be a causal observer. sex is a mere commodity here. women are up for grabs like meat pies or chicken loaves. nothing has a cost or a premium or a value. you are valued only if you trade in money.

but there are also vistas for those who care to notice. even if you are fully clad in a burqa with only the eyes unveiled. the emerald green waters are there for all. the bare white arms join the ones that are chestnut brown in the waters that are blue as sapphire. songs in Chinese language are cheered upon and new bonds are forged.