Roads that lead nowhere

I am traveling to this ancient land in a couple of days. The land that I viewed with a fragmented telescope the last time I was near. I didn’t quite take up to it back then. Yet I chose to come back to this melancholic squall. Tucked away in a far corner of a state infused with tradition and charm. Lately as life has started taking unexpected and jarring turns along the treacherous roads, the need for solitude has skyrocketed. The need to sit alone in a commoner seat and let the air waft in and out, as pictures unfold. There is a strange calmness in roads. Roads into the unknown. Zapping into the palm lit groves. Simmering in the summer heat. I often think how magnificent and luscious green the trees look. Perhaps one tends to view the world with a newfound awe once the flipside has been viewed. As I refuse to mute the noises in my head these days, the words appear lyrical, the strength of life more vivid. Irrelevance, insignificance shape into regularities. The roads whiten out.