1990, Mussoorie, somewhere near Kempty Falls. It was my birthday and my parents took me for my first trip. With a heavy heart, I have to say that my parents are not together anymore, as much I desire togetherness and a strong familial bond, some things are inevitable and they are not meant to be. But then on the other hand, some things are certainly meant to be and so deep rooted that no matter how many ever times you go off track, they will lead you on the trajectory you’re meant to tread on. My first trip has made me into the traveller I am. The way I look at the mountains, the way I talk to them, the way I’m so comfortable in their presence, the endless conversations I can have with people while I’m travelling is all because of this trip. Maybe my parents trained me, maybe I am to accomplish a task that’s left behind from my past life or just maybe, there is a life path that is unknown and I have to explore.

It all began in 1990. I thank both my parents. My mother who has always encouraged me to be courageous and travel wherever I want.

Whether it’s a difficult trek or an easy one, a chaotic street or the beach, she has never refrained. She has always said, go and explore, you are meant for this. Maybe she knows the big scheme of things planned for me. I deeply thank her. I thank my father for taking me to exquisite places to gain exposure. From Diving straight in the middle of Atlantic Ocean, to the posh areas of the chic island – Bermuda, New York to Orlando, North Carolina to Miami, Brussels to London, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia. From Dubai, Sharjah, Oman and Abu Dhabi. He has made me travel with him and I have seen a bit of the world, also letting me study Tourism in Singapore. I thank the both of you. You maybe not together, but I will always remember the trips I had taken with you both and cherish them forever and impart the importance of travelling to my children one day.

So stay tuned for some compelling travel blogs from me and get a taste of “Wanderer by soul, writer by heart”.

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