I am a time traveler. Oh no, it is no science based write-up. It does not take into account any of the spatial or spiritual elements. It does not rouse your feelings of awe in mysterious explanations of the nature. It is my simple diary and I write only what I feel.

But, again I should put forth. I travel through time. Traveling that does not require money or status. It only makes claims on your courage and willingness. It is about finding those unique ways in which you can explore beyond where you are, so that you can define your existence not to anyone but yourself.

So it happened, I could not harbor the feeling of deprivation any longer or stand the meager resources on top of my intension longing to see more than what my eyes could bring light to.

It seems like no coincidence that I turned to books. They have been my time traveling machines. They have transported me to the world of fantasy, into different eras of history and present-day far-off regions that otherwise my feet could not touch.

They have introduced me to people I never knew and will never know for sure, for a huge time-lapse between their existence and mine. They have shown me homes I desired and roads that I wanted to traverse. They have taken me into the realms of Sufis and monarchs. They have talked to me in languages ​​I never hear anywhere. They have enriched my soul and soothed my emotions, those that never found their outlets or expressions.

But this is not all. The best thing that can happen to any living being: I became introspective. My observation may and may not be sharp, my concentration power may and may not rest for long and my memory may lapse from time to time. And yet I have somehow learnt to speak in the language of the world. It speaks to me in a language sans words. It empties me from all the trash I gather from other contaminated bodies in the environment. This language slows down my pace to see myself sitting as a bird by the roadside, soaking my wings in sunlight with my back to the world. My feathers turn gray and weathered, almost broken to leave no flight in me left and yet, I feel alive.

I know you have traveled with me with the above-mentioned words. See, traveling does not need material resources; it is a matter of choice. You can fly anywhere, anytime.



Source by Saima Akhtar Gill

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