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Part 1
Bound by some hopes, spurred by some dreams
China? China.
A land unknown.
A land shrouded in mystery. Where abounds dark whispers of
communism. Rumours of hostility. News of deadly illnesses.
Thoughts of all these and more swirl in my head as I prepare
to embark on a 10-month voyage to discover the unknown. Evil
monsters of doubt knock at the doorstep. Mocking. Questioning.
India and China, neighbors for so long
yet, strangers
in recent history. For me, through years of suspicion, built
on that universal madness that afflicts mankind called war,
little is known about this ancient land. Until now. Unknown
no longer.
And that is the
beauty of travel. It's a journey to discover the truths that
lie underneath. To cast aside the facade of knowledge so glibly
assumed. And to create afresh through the eyes of the mind
that imagination which gently shapes our memories. Memories,
which settle, no, subside into the wells of one's mind. And
it is to these memories that I turn to in order to express
the million forms that life took for me here.
Landing here in China. Bound by some hopes and spurred by
some dreams. Those little imps, spoken of earlier, tell me
that being in China would end those hopes and burn those dreams.
Realization would dawn, they said, onto the futility of dreams
and the hopelessness of trying new endeavors. A realization
that to veer from the safe path is tantamount to running away
from the course of your life. Well
realization when it did strike was not that all. Realization
was simply this. All that I can express in the confines of
language, all that I have expressed within the limitation
of words. Realization is all the above and the below. Realization
is all this and that and more. Expressed and unexpressed.
Said and unsaid. Sometimes
it's just the yin and the
yang. And sometimes its just life.
I came to China thinking I knew myself. I realize I will go
back to India knowing that I know so little of myself. I came
to China with little boundaries in my mind, dividing the people
I have met and would meet into isolated spaces on the basis
of religion and nation, culture and language. I will go back
to India knowing that these boundaries exist only where I
created them. In the mind.
I turn the invisible wheel in the mind, and the film of memories
starts to reel.
Part
2: The chaos settling into the calm
this
travelogue is part of the subside
travelzine
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