Captured

I don't need a DSLR to know that i'm not a photographer. The same is true about millions of others who are suddenly empowered by Instagram. With the exposure we are party to—thanks to the rise of technology—there's this unexplainable urge to click and share and upload and stare. Set against this trend was a wise friend of mine who went to Ladakh and didn't bring back a single photograph. Not even one for memory's sake. On the contrary, he questioned the logic behind wasting time collecting pictures when he can utilize the same amount of time on exploring the place. After all, he was there on a short trip and "couldn't afford wasting time on something he wasn't well-verse with" instead of living the moments a bit more. No place for posterity. Whatever that sounds like now, it reeked of sincerity then. And the acceptance of the fact that he was a traveler, not a photographer.

Culture matters

It's only when you travel that you realise the importance of getting lost and finding yourself. Those who indeed travel—not just fly around—know what i'm talking about. I happened to visit Thailand last week. Not the entire country, just two cities to be precise. Bangkok was fastidious and Pattaya, avid. What connected both of them was the civic sense so prevalent amongst Thais. The stuff they do to English could be the worst form of torture but it's worth accepting that they know how to keep the tourists in. How they manage to do that despite their allergy to Angrezi is mind boggling? Oh wait, it's the cheap(er) currency. And during my stay, i couldn't help notice how their cities are so well-planned and maintained. Vehicles wait for you to cross the street first. Honking is a rare phenomenon there. Unlike ours, their footpaths are meant for walking and people don't litter. For a country filled with Sanskrit titles, it was nothing less than a surprise. I was expecting a few lapses in infrastructure but i was utterly disappointed. Throughout my stay, i couldn't locate a single pothole. Compare that to Mumbai where all roads lead to huge ugly craters. It's depressing, actually. A nation that was struggling not so long ago is now doing so well for itself. They have their share of problems—the ongoing anti-government protests being the least of them—but at least they are working towards finding a solution. In retrospect, our sexagenarian independence seems like a series of lost opportunities. On top of that, we haven't been lucky enough to find ourselves yet either.