The first rain in 72 days came here, in McLeod Ganj. It arrived with the wind, the cool wind and the motivation to pull up my hood and slowly walk the streets up and down in the drizzle.
I seek cover from the rain. Sits down on the steps under a roof and wait. A few metres infront of me, the forest clad valley begin it’s crawl a thousand metres down.
I listen to José Gonzales and smile at the lines he sings.
We remain. As everything else has been washed away.
That which remain beyond everything we live for, that which we think we need to survive. That which remain after the rain washes away our history and makes our future unknown.
One can only be a globetrotter if you walk already trodden paths. The one who stands still while the rain fall and patiently wait can never be a globetrotter. The one who has no memories walk new roads every day.
Then, only we remain.