Wheels on Pause, Dreams on Play

Every Friday evening, I look out the window with wild dreams and wilder eyes—“This weekend, we’ll pack our bags and hit the road,” I declare heroically. By Saturday morning, I’m in an epic tug-of-war between my travel bucket list and my cozy blanket. Spoiler alert: the blanket usually wins. And the kids? They’re the cheerleaders chanting, “Home sweet home!”

You see, I have grand plans. This year, I solemnly vow to explore the charming little towns around my city. Historical forts, spicy street food, art tucked in dusty corners—I want it all. But reality often replies, “Ma’am, your laundry basket is overflowing, and your toddler just used peanut butter as shampoo.”

I tried visualising weekend getaways with a Pinterest-perfect family smiling beside a waterfall. In my version, someone is always crying, someone is hungry, and I’m Googling “nearest washroom.” Still, hope floats.

“Travel isn’t always a passport stamp,” I tell myself. “Sometimes, it’s just a drive to the next neighbourhood bakery that sells yummy chicken samosas”

I believe in micro-travel now—the idea that adventure hides in 10 km radius too. A new cafe. A park we’ve never visited. Even the museum we pass every day but never enter.

“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page,” said Saint Augustine. But some weekends, even rereading page one with a new snack feels like a win.

So yes, my future travel plans include great destinations. But until then, I’m journeying through board games, backyard campfires, and bedtime stories with dragons.

Thought to ponder:
Is it really about the miles you cover or the moments you create—even if they’re under the same roof, in your pajamas, with popcorn and laughter?