No Whispering Winds for Me!

A few days back I was reading a beach scene somewhere (don’t ask me where or I may get beaten or ridiculed or maybe both) which left me wondering, why don’t I think like that, I mean ever? It was a sun kissed beach with sparkling blue waters, verdant shade and idyllic beauty. Or some such thing, a step just short of paradise. I too have been to a lot of beaches (much less than I would actually like to go to, though) but the word sun kissed never even passed through my brain. What to do? There are no whispering winds for me either!

The wind was whispering among the trees: Now I must be deaf, stone deaf for I never heard the whispering wind among the trees. If there is a storm and a loud crash, I can hear it alright. But what is this whispering business that completely refuses to reveal itself to me and yet it is heard by so many? Rustling of leaves, I still understand, cool breeze I have felt on particularly hot days but this whispering bit is completely beyond me. Maybe they whisper in Spanish, hence I don’t understand!

The narrow lanes that took us back in time: Well, the narrow lanes look like narrow lanes to me. If I peer even harder they still look like narrow lanes to me and nothing else. I like them, don’t get me wrong, particularly, if they are the type where motor vehicles are prohibited, because then it is a pleasure to walk there. But not sure about back in time stuff! Back in time I actually lived in a big spacious house, and I now live on a narrow street. Maybe that is why they don’t take me back in time. And what is the point if they remind me of the present, no one likes living in the present anyway!

Soft crash of waves against the sands: Really, when you go to a beach, do you listen to the soft crash of waves against the sand? Once again for me this goes back to the first category, I must be deaf. When I go to the beach I see lot of water, blue water, unless it is Maldives. There one can actually see many shades of blue. I like walking on the sand when the waves are mild (or softly crashing if you prefer) as it only gets my feet wet and not my camera! They can crash anyway only against the sand as usually there is nothing else to crash against! They can crash against the rocks too but rocks are not conducive to walking. And if you can’t walk along the beach, well what is the point of being on a beach?

The scenery moved me to tears: I have to admit I was once almost moved to tears. It was when I reached the Everest Base Camp. But I suspect that it had much more to do with the exhaustion of walking for a few hours at 5000 meters and above than with the scenery. I was in awe of the place for sure as what was the end point for me, was the starting point for the Everest climbers. Real climbers start their trip from where city dwellers like me walk back! But it was moving me ‘almost’ to tears for all the wrong reasons, chiefly because I was not too fit and it was a royal pain to reach there!

The painting was a symbol of happiness/agony: But more than anything else it is the museums and art that confuses me the most. I can see people standing in front of a painting with a look of rapture all over their face. The same painting would like a crumbly bunch of flowers to me! But if they say it was a symbol of happiness then it must be. Even more confusing are those random black dots that are a symbol of agony, to me they look like, well random black dots.

Now I am sure there is something wrong with me and not with the whispering winds and softly crashing waves and the like. But then if the winds don’t whisper to me, they don’t whisper to me. Yet it does not diminish my love for travel in any way. They can go and do their whispering someplace else. Now if only I would know what it was that kept me hooked to traveling, I would be able to express it so much better! Till then you have to suffer posts like these.