As I Travel

The mountains line our path. Brown waves shining under the morning sun. From a distance the mountains look like they have been draped in fabric. Silky and smooth, I feel like running my hands on the waves. As we move closer, the dried grass is visible. It no longer looks smooth. I feel disappointed and cheated. We slowly drift away again. The mountains look smaller now and the velvet curves are back. I feel happier. I see tiny spots. Little houses on the mountains.
I remember a cartoon series I watched when I was younger. Heidi. I watched it with my sister. It was our favourite. I remember home. That painful feeling in my heart is back. I miss home. So many memories come flooding in. Maybe I should have stayed closer to home.
Maybe I should buy a house in the mountains. I wonder if I will be happy there. I have never lived so far away from the city. Are the people in the mountains happy? Do they envy the city people? They probably pity us. Struggling with the traffic, pollution, so disconnected from nature.
The mountains are no longer visible. We are now passing through concrete jungles. Why are you so silent, he asks. I am shaken out of my thoughts. Nothing, I reply. Talk to me, he says. I pick a conversation. We laugh. We pass through freeway junctions, weaving in and out till we are on the right one. The mountains are visible again. The brown velvet, the tiny houses. I slip into another reverie.

“Why are you so silent?”.

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