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There is a faint thrumm of some sort in the air. The yellowing pages are finally becoming very real. Willows, snow, purple mountains, the clear postcard frame pictures that we have seen in English films and those of Yashraj are crowding before the eyes. It’s been 2 weeks now and it hasn't yet registered in my head that I am going to Europe. I have dreamt of this quite some. They were separate isolated fantasies. I never thought that it will happen, or that it will happen so soon, or that I would go with friends. Nothing of this was supposed to be real right? A part of my head has disconnected itself from the rest. That disconnected part is calmly responding to all the "congratulations", answering all the questions, planning and figuring itineraries, it’s that crude practical part that shows as much excitement as I would show about taking a metro to Ghatkoper but no more.


None of this was supposed to be real after all, such stuff doesn't happen. I will drive to the airport tomorrow; check the baggage in, marvel at the wonders of T2. I will function, my disconnected part will guide through the whole. But the other half has suggested and informed me that I am flying to the land of Da Vinci, Michealangelo, Balzac, Kafka, Chaplin, Geothe, Chekhov... It seems like this knowledge is seeping into the blood from some form of intravenous drip. I am going to Europe...I am going to Europe ...I am going to Europe .... Europe... Europe.. Europe.....

#europe #czechrepublic #paris #amsterdam #belgium #travel #love #wanderlust

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