Places

 Well, at least I didn't take a few years to post something again. It's only been a month.

October 13, 2025. Friday.

Glasgow, UK.

 

Trenches and the Everest,

Countries and islands,

Offices and houses,

They are all, but places.

Wars fought for territories,

Toils for building a home,

Love forsaken for land,

It is all about places.

 

Remember your last holiday? The stunning architecture that has seen the world transform? The streets full of history that whisper tales of war and love as you walk past? The tranquillity of the blue ocean or the stunning mountains and gorges obscured by the fog? The heat of the desert sand that makes you feel warm on the skin and in the soul or the cold of the snow cooling down all the burn in the heart? Or perhaps just laying by the pool in a resort? The shops and the restaurants and all the shopping sprees and authentic mouth-watering delicacies? The pristine lobbies, large bathtubs and feathery beds of the hotel (which I personally hate)? Yet the longing. Longing for your pillow and the blanket that feels yours own. Longing for home.

I have always been a places person. What does it mean? Well, it just means that places mean a lot to me. Every time I visit somewhere new, I find it hard to leave. Not in a way that I want to stay there forever but in a way that tells you maybe you will never have the chance to visit again, never be able to walk through these doors, touch these walls, or roam these streets ever again.

There’s a certain melancholia that accompanies the feeling on the last few day or the last hours of the stay, when you are boarding back the train or the flight. Things call to you, the nature urges to stay a little longer even if only for a moment, talk for a while, the sky asks to promise that you would return someday and the ground below assures that it would be there, just the same, waiting.

I am sure everyone has a sweater (or maybe a scarf) that you adore only because you brought it on your favourite vacation. You may not wear it often because it is out of fashion but cannot find yourself throwing it away either. Then there’s a magnet on the fridge which falls at times and makes your heart drop. In the world so fast and connected can you not order another sweater or a memento just like the old one? Perhaps something even better, from the same place. Then why does having that very thing matter? Because it’s not just a thing but a memory — a piece of that place that you brought along.

Ever thought about how many places we have already visited in this lifetime that we would never visit again?

 Love,

Srishti M Jain.