Traveller of places

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If you ask me
I can name a hundred places
carved in every nook and cranny
of my inside

and that will make you wonder
why she has this thing for
empty lands

On my journeys across the western ghats
and the mighty himalayas
not to forget the tucked away beaches of
Mandvi & Gokarna
Looking at the sky I have
sent a countless notes of gratitude
up in the heaven

I have learnt that travel is a plague
it spreads like fire
can’t be buried too long
there were days I was occupied
doing the most humane thing there is
a job, as they like to call it
and I would still make time
paying heed to my day dreams.

I would think of camping in the vast Mongolian desert
sometimes shooting dawn at Salar de uyuni
hiking the inca trail
my lit up eyes seeing Tromso sky

I could go to Icelend
party the night in Rejkavik
Go fox hunting in Westfjords
and for nothing on this earth would I miss
sea diving between two continents

But I chose your soul
spread my bed in the home shaped heart
hoping that now you understand
why I always had this thing for empty lands

For I am a territorial bird
residing in your heart
when I think of Westfjords
I think I want to fly away with you.

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