Tag: Adventure

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N.25 The Enigma of Return

And so it goes, my grand travel adventure comes to a conclusion amidst a peculiar temporal fluidity. As if I’d never left, I find myself in the same places being a whole other man.

My vision is fresh and my choices are now imbued with a freedom from ancient concepts.

I’m rediscovering the daily.

The same drop of water from my old apartment’s water faucet taps to the same rhythm, the endless roadworks and the same passerbys with fleeing eyes at the sight of my huge smile.

I’m not sure exactly what I’ve done for this but I am coming back to Montréal in an ocean of love. I am welcomed as a great guest and I’m getting seduced to get back into the city’s thriving cultural life.

The friendships that bloom in my existence are one of the grandest riches that a man can ever be given. I am truly moved.

I am back in town only to find a large garden. I do not recall planting so many flowers.
Maybe they’ve sowed themselves?

It’s quite unique to roam around in the city’s streets in the fall to imbibe the atmosphere. I’m playing the game of smile, salute and look in the eyes.

The people seem tired and thrown off by a stranger’s smile.
I have hopes to find reciprocity of joy in the coming days.

And so, I find myself in my town, back in Québec’s culture, tango dancing with the mysteries of what shall present itself as a new life. I have so many friends to see, it’ll take me at least a month to get through them all.

My travels have brought me this trait that I now choose joy in my heart irrespective of what’s happening outside of me.

We have the freedom to create our internal environment and to ascribe meaning or not to the events of our lives.

The human experience is a malleable clay. By our actions, we can mold it the way we choose.

With this newfound freedom, I’m writing on the balcony warmed by the morning sun.
Here I am, back into Quebec’s day to day.

I take a deep breath and I tell myself:

‘’It’s good to be alive’’

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N.15 ‘’ Indian Traffic King’’

Klonks, klanks, screeches, vroom and horns blaring.
That’s the sound of Indian traffic.

Out here, downtown India in a small village by the name of Padmanabhapuram, at the crossover of streets, right in front of an historical building, here lies the action. Ginger tea in my hand I observe the chaotic beauty.

It’s so hot I probably sweat a third of my bodyweight daily. People keep telling me it’s only getting higher until the rainy season hits, June or july.

I am the only foreigner out here in these parts at this time of year.
No one’s crazy enough for those scorching hot and sweaty weather.

Forget the saunas. Come to South India in May.
You’ll get your money’s worth. No refunds.
Getting played by taxi drivers included.
The perfect getaway vacation!

First time I saw Indian traffic, I was baffled.
They cross lanes all the time. Buses pass you by, barely face fronting your life away. there’s no streetlights and the walkers get in on the action too. It’s a wonderful mess to be part of.

One day, as I was enjoying a mango juice in Kerala’s capital, directly in front of traffic, something hit me. Despite the thousands of cars, buses, motorcycles and trucks flowing by, I did not feel stressed at all. Not one bit.

Back home in Montréal, I avoid traffic at all costs.
There’s a pressure and tension present that I do not like.
Out here, downtown Kiruvananthapuram, the traffic did not bother at all.

As I was wondering why, I came to a possible explanation.

Contrary to Canadian traffic which is filled with frustration, anger, despair and suffering, Indian traffic is so overwhelmingly wild, the only way to survive is to play.

To be playful. To approach it as a game. Or else you hesitate and die.
By all standards, it’s a total neverending crisis.
You have to find the opportunity and without any second thoughts: seize it.

Who would have thought that traffic could teach such a profound life lesson.
When everything is in flux, victory comes to those who take action with clarity and decisiveness