going home
A thirty minute stop on the way gave me enough time to sit by a small shop. I have been here before an year, when I last went home. Then, our bus broke down near here and this shop was all that was there around. The guy at the shop talked a lot. In ten minutes I felt like i had known him for long. He had told me about his little sister, how she would come running any minute then, and thus. Today, although I wasn't sure if he even remembered me after an year, I really wanted to go there, not just meet him and the little girl, but also for the lip-smacking sweets and pickles he kept. It's been quite a long time since I felt so happy traveling. And I am going home after almost an year. Even as I left my beloved hostel room, a part of me felt really happy. The road home seemed to pour in a bliss. The narrow road, that wound around hills, had rocky walls on one side and steeped down on the other. The road, at many places could barely fit a small bus. Going down this road, I fel