In one day I felt huge ounces of peace and fear. Amidst the green, the quiet, the wind, the hills, I found peace. This peace was a lot different. It was not the one I had felt by the water, in the traffic of the bustling lanes of Mumbai. But a peace of quiet. And I think that’s what scares me. The quiet, the nonchalant, the melancholy, the monotony. And the thought of the loved ones, family.
I guess I’m the kind of person who wants enthusiasm, thrill, and Empire States vibes in my peace. My kind of quiet isn’t exactly the sound of wind, the chirping of birds, the shh of the city. My kind of quiet is the water hitting the rocks, the sound of the waves, the honks of the traffic, but the serenity in the fast pacing life.
Hills are beautiful, luxurious in nature. But I guess I’m more of a luxurious in luxury kind.
For me the traffic is the peace, the hustle bustle of the city is the peace, and the breathe of concrete air is the peace.