On the last day of April, I packed my bag and left home. There was nothing for me except frustrating work and complex relationships in past few years, and leaving home was my only way to gain what I lost, only way to be free from this captivity. There is no place like the road, where I can be free doing everything; or I can be busy doing nothing. It’s been long since I was on such a journey, so long that all past memories became blurry, like they happened in another life to another person and I read those stories in my childhood.
I was going to Bangkok, my favourite place to spend days after days being inactive but never getting bored. Bangkok embraces travellers as much as its dwellers, and I am fascinated by its magical power to connect everybody; disregarding race, nation, age or other diversity. Here I can truly be myself or I can truly be someone else.
Through the window of my plane, with the first light of the day on the horizon and infinite starts above, Bangkok appeared like a long lost treasure, waiting to be explored rather than being discovered.
But truly, what should I explore? Should I search for the soul of the city? Should I look for the beauty? Or should I try to understand its spirituality?
A city has no soul if the people living in it feel no love for the city, only using it for their own benefits. Bangkok is not like that. People here not just love but worship the city. Maybe that is why they can embrace travellers as their own; they both hold same love for the city in their heart.
Bangkok has not changed much since I was here last time except for it is now cleaner and more organized. For some parts, it reminds me of Tokyo. Tall skyscrapers coupled with straight, narrow roads through concrete pavement and sharp stairs with dry leaves lying on them. It looks beautiful from little distance, like a perfect frame capturing large buildings, blue sky and busy roads full of cars and motorcycles, all in a flawless harmony.
Bangkok doesn't preserve history. There are not many old buildings, monuments, statues, palaces or any other token that remind me of its past, and whenever there is a requirement, the buildings and roads are repaired with modern construction. But yet I would not call it a modern city. Rather it is something in between which makes it even more desirable, more lively. I can almost feel its sharp, long breath in the endeavor to unite chaotic western lifestyle with silent Asian philosophy, coming out of its past to make new history.
Bangkok has her own way to reveal her beauty to all, but only for those who seek. I did not fall in love of Bangkok at first sight. She disclosed herself to me slowly, delicately, with extra care and precaution because she already knew that I was going to fall in love with her. I think many travellers feel the same way. Maybe the people of Bangkok even feel the same way. Like any true relationship, this undertaking of falling in love, developing a deep connection and affection for the city brings melancholy, the type of melancholy that can only be caused by unexplained beauty and desire.
So when the time comes for me to leave Bangkok, I feel depressed, like an addict, not because I am leaving her but because I know melancholy will take over and rule my heart until I am back again.
