For nearly two decades, my life has been defined by a single, repeating rhythm: coming and going.
It started in June 2008 when I packed my bags and left my hometown for Kolkata and eventually for my higher education in Bangalore. That first step out of the door opened up a world of exploration. I became a collector of experiences, constantly moving, wandering, and learning. Eventually, life took me across oceans to Nigeria. I lived out my bachelor years moving between different rhythms—from Benin City to Kaduna, Kano, and eventually Lagos.
Then, the chapters started blending into one another beautifully. In the final leg of my time in Lagos, I went back to India, got married, and my spouse joined me there. Soon after, we packed up our lives once again and moved to Vancouver, Canada, calling British Columbia home for three years.
It was in Canada that a quiet transition began. Together, we extensively explored the deep woods and towering peaks of British Columbia. With every trail we walked, my love affair with nature grew stronger. The mountains didn't ask anything of us; they just offered stillness.
But right in the middle of that transition between Nigeria and Canada, the ground shifted. I lost my grandmother.
Grief has a brutal way of tearing down the everyday illusions we build around ourselves. When you are constantly moving between cities and countries, a major loss makes you realize just how transient everything is. The places change, the packing lists change, the scenery changes, but the internal storm remains.
Ever since she passed away, my travel has taken on a completely different meaning. It isn’t just about exploring anymore; it is about seeking solace. I have found myself drawn to remote, quiet places, trying to process the emptiness left behind. In my search for answers, I turned to ancient epics and timeless philosophies, rewatching the Ramayana and Mahabharata, and reading the Bhagavad Gita, looking for maps to navigate this difficult inner landscape.
Recently, I came across a song called "Aavagaman" (which literally translates to the coming and going). It features a powerful metaphor about life being a vast cosmic marketplace where we accumulate emotional debts, and a desperate plea to finally end the cycle of wandering and find ultimate peace. The moment I heard it, I realized it was the exact background score of my life right now.
I’m tired of the constant transition ( I cannot say I am tired of constant travelling, I am enjoying this journey and the way it influences me to look inward. I am probably tired of this constant search for a permanent place to reflect, maybe I am wrong …. Maybe constant search is actually leading me and shaping me to be one with my inner consciousness). The woods of Canada taught me that peace is found in stillness, and now my feet are pointing toward the ultimate symbol of that silence: the Himalayas.
My journey started with education, moved through career and marriage, and was fundamentally reshaped by grief. Now, I am looking inward, searching for a place to finally stop the coming and going. I am searching for a place to finally call home by the mountains.
#ItsAbtMe #lifelessons #MyroamingSpirit #RoamFree