Essays, Photography, Poetry

Between Here and There

Its not very often that I stop enroute to somewhere during travel. Its not that I don’t like it, its just that I get too caught up in the process of travelling that I forget that sometimes the best sights lie about 5 minutes away from the highway.

 This cycle was broken last week during my travel to Michigan. Somewhere tucked off the side of the I-90 exists St. Joseph’s Park also called as Silver Lake Beach. Time did not permit extracting the full flavor of this location, but what we saw definitely interested us in coming back. This is a beach town and the fact that we stopped here in the dying days of summer seems almost poetic. We ate some hummus and had a Margarita pizza (surprisingly good) and then headed back to the car and continued on our path back home.

 Sometime in the future, I would love to return to this quaint town, return and sing an ode to the sunlight and the heat mirages doused by the fountains of the silver lake.

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Essays, Photography, Pictures

On the Road…Again

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I live an interesting life, one that contains countless hours of monotone and some hours of somethings which are greatly different from my daily life. I was on the road last week. Travelling once again for work, seeking skills that the higher-ups think I need and I am trying not to construe this as a thinly veiled insult of some sort. There was the reassurance of having fellow travellers with me in the car which meant that whatever this skill was that I lacked, there were others who were right along with me.

After driving for about 5 hours we entered the famed ruins of detroit. Yes, ruins. I have seen similar ones before. Sprawling metropolitan cities which have been abandoned to their decay and vices and the results is a crumbling giant. Dont get me wrong, the city is still beautiful, the architecture, still magnetic, but as I was walking through the shadows of greektown looking at the empty streets, I realized that the best days of this city had passed it by. Whats left is a bunch of people not wanting to believe that. We still managed to survive this, ate at wonderful restaurants and saw possibly the largest french pastry assortment in the united states (a little ironic that we found this in Arab Town). At the end of the week, we left with mixed emotions. Sadness at having to leave a city that we called home albeit for a few days, and relief that we don’t normally call this city…home.

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Photography, Reflections

Sunset at 30,000 Feet

Sometimes in life, you see a scene that requires no explanation. The picture probably existed for thousands of centuries, but if you were not privy to that vista, you probably would never have seen it. I have flown all through my life, but for some reason never looked out of the window to watch the setting sun. I don’t quite know why. I have been up in the air at the time, but have either been preoccupied with some book or catching up on sleep, reflecting on the events of the day. But, last week I did look out. And the sight was surreal. It made me think of the experiences in life that we pass up. It also made me think about not judging people without knowing all the facts. But mostly it made me think about the calmness of the heavens and the how when the manic craziness of life was drowned out, the world does seem like a beautiful place.

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Photography, Reflections

The Weekender

There is nothing more enjoyable than an early (relatively speaking) morning drive on the weekend. The sun barely rising and shining its lukewarm resonance at me while I drive still drowned in last night’s sleep. The streets are empty and I barely see a soul or two, fellow early birds stumbling towards their haunts for breakfast, which in my case consists of a warm cup of mocha and maybe a bagel. People like to vacillate between iced coffee and warm coffee based on the iterations of the weather. Not me. For me, the sensation of sipping on warm coffee is one of the purest joys in life, one that does not depend on the weather but only depends on me and my motivation to go out there and seek it.

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Essays, Photography, Reflections

The Tired Traveller

It is a brutal world that we live in. Everything points towards the inherent cruelty of life. Even the sweltering heat of the summer seems to be a metaphor for that feeling. Life has become a race, a race where the finish line does not exist. We chase invisible dreams and are forever left with a feeling of longing. We are left unfulfilled. We travel the world, we work tirelessly, and we swim in the sea of life and fly into the expanse of the universe in our inexhaustible quest to become a fictitious version of ourselves. We are travelers.

As I stopped momentarily at a traffic light, my jaded mind wandered aimlessly and I looked around. This is the same light that I have stopped pretty much every single day for the past three years but for some reason, never saw what I did today. It was a reflective sight, in the sense that the image reflected the thoughts in my head. I wondered whether the birds were a manifestation of our place in this world. Whether they were a surreptitious message asking me to pause of take a deep breath. The birds seem to be doing just that. The birds tell me that sometimes, all that a tired traveler needs is a little break in your journey.

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