Aps- The Muddled Utopian

When you set your feet on unknown roads, when you believe in mirages, You discover some footprints hidden under the dried leaves and wonder! Who would have wandered here before you? What did they talk about? What deeds they do? It all lingers on in the air, it's for you to smell it's for you to encode and for you to decode! Those mountains will make you realize what a tiny spec you are in the playground of the universe... Those clouds will play hide and seek with you along with the sunrays... The twigs and trees will become your mates in crime  And those shores lines will help you paint your own map... Travel is not when you travel to different places or countries, travel is when you discover something new in the littlest of things and when you explore the new in the old... It may be stepping foot in a new country, or it may be just turning a stone upside down, as long as you unfold a new hue of nature, have a beautiful conversation ...

She was lying wide awake in her hostel bed. It was just yesterday when she had traveled 1600 kilometers away from home alone to give wings to her dreams. Her cozy nest of 21 years was now beyond access and mother bird was nowhere around to take care of her.  There was no steaming breakfast on the table, no hot water running, no ironed clothes and no mom shouting “Oh! Come on kid, get up already. You are late.” Sometimes I used to deliberately pretend to be asleep just to hear her voice. But then she remembered Moms warm tight hug and her precious words which were still echoing in my ears. “Go my dear Cuckoo (that’s my nickname) grab the world by horns. Mumma is so proud of you. In you I live my dreams”.  She got up from the bed and opened the balcony door. Mumma Duck was swimming happily with her ducklings in the nearby pond. That was the day little cuckoo bird grew up and took her first flight to make the world her own.