Why I need to visit Amsterdam again

How was your weekend guys? Mine was spent binging on a lot of readings and movies in bed.

I may be the last fan of The Fault in Our Stars to see the movie since its release in theatres in June this year. Unlike other book movies, I’m mildly surprised that it meets the expectations. 

More importantly it kindled fresh memories of my abrupt trip to Amsterdam earlier this march since some of the scenes in the movie are in Amsterdam. It was an abrupt trip because I didn’t get to see the city in daylight. 

I squeezed out a couple of hours from my work to make a quick trip to the city and got back by the last train home for a quick catch up for another trip to Brussels the next morning. Phew, it was such a hectic time!

So, it was the night trip to Amsterdam. And for the obvious reason, to visit the infamous Red Light District. This explains why. 

Normally Amsterdam is portrayed with the quintessential canals with lots of bikes parked along, the boat tour, the famous Anne Frank House, Van Gogh museum, windmills, cheese…Unfortunately, I had to miss these. 

So we took the lesser road travelled and visited the red light district. Soon after we hopped off the train, we grabbed a quick coffee and headed straight to the district. There, the air reeked of weed, sometimes becoming quite grim for a normal breathe. 

It was a different experience, an eye-opening and a good one of course. It’s so amazing what travel can do to you. It makes you explore and connect with people and other cultures. At the same time it helps you learn new things and grow. It makes you realize how special your culture is and help you to appreciate yourself, the people you love and the place you live in so much more.

It’s rightly said ‘the world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.’ 

For a history enthusiast, it was such a great loss for me to have missed the Anne Frank House and Van Gogh museum since going to these places meant I had to have a whole day which was impossible. Nevertheless, I believe in next time. So next time these two are on my must- see place in Amsterdam. That's why I think I need to go to there again some day hopefully.

Excuse the blurry photos from the peek into the night.

Have a lovely week ahead and yeah don't forget to watch the movie if you are plain lazy to read the book.

Rain:The Art of Being Alive

Image via pinterest

As I stepped out of the house this evening, a mild roar of thunder was heard across the south Thimphu sky. Like huge eye bags, the clouds loomed ahead. I did not bother to get hold of the umbrella. The thought of an umbrella seem least important to my already crammed thoughts from the day. 

Before summer ceases, I’d like to take in as much as the heat and cool summer breeze. I’d like to get up before the sun and remember the smell of early mornings. I’d like to inhale in the fresh air and exhale all the toxins out of my life. 

Because some days I think I’m going to die from an outburst of passion and an excess of imagination. 

I’d like to go on solitary long walks; to hear only my heartbeat and no one else's. I wanted to immerse myself in this solitude. Thus, I headed left from my apartment towards the south. Down the highway towards the woods I took the trail less trodden. 
The warm summer breeze touched the cheeks of my face. Like silk it passed by leaving that lingering feeling of the touch of a man. 

My heart did small leaps of faith. Leaps of faith which is abstract for now. 

It started getting a little chillier as I plundered deep into the woods. Far beyond the branches of the tall trees, heavy laden clouds hovered right above me. Like a watchful pair of eyes, it lingered. 

Then without a warning, in a flash of second, it started pouring down. 

Like a shower, the rain came down, resurrecting this feeling of longing, being loved and the freedom afterwards. I quickly ran down to the nearest tree for shelter. After some good five minutes, it poured harder. 

Without a second thought, I immersed my feet first into the poodle of water. I looked up and the rain pelted on my cheeks. It was that gentle twinge which at times irked my inner soul waking me up from that deep slumber of permanence. 

With my arms stretched, I let the rain beat me down. My mascara melted and washed down the cheeks. It slowed down my tired and beaten heart. The rain went into the unfathomable depths of my soul. Deeper it sunk in, right down to the core. 

I noticed the potential in the air. Felt the ground beneath my feet and breathe it all in.
And allowed the butterflies to escape from the deepest part of my belly.

Things never remain the same. It never lasts, it never, ever lasts. 
People  love us and don't love us anymore. We have something beautiful and then it's gone. 
There are endings and endings and endings more than the beginnings.

That I'm a constant work at progress. It’s not the toughest species that survive but the ones who has the adaptability to change will. 
Things fall apart. For good. Like this rainfall. 
It brought me an opportunity to lose myself and find the freedom my soul craves. Gradually, and all at once, life seemed a much better place when I returned home,  drenched completely in the rain.  

More musings on the rain can be found here in this post .

As we travel life’s journey // One Summer Road Trip

We lay there, atop a hill, overlooking the valley adorned with luscious green paddy field. The cool summer breeze on our face and everything around so abundant. The Almighty indeed was gracious enough this summer to bless us lavishly. 

The mountain winds sounded exactly like ocean waves, with its deep ebb and flow. I felt pampered. 

Until the wee hours of the dusk, we stayed there. Such a blissful summer evening it was! 

It always feels so rejuvenating to get out of the city once in a while and bask in the glory of nature. And this break came timely when I badly needed a break after a stressful week at work. So we headed on a road trip to Paro. 

Like a true blogger, cameras slung on the shoulders, multiple stops were made to take pictures. Weeds were rolled in the paddy fields as squeals of excitement were made when the eyes met such stark grandeur scenes.

Caution: This post is picture heavy!

I love how Dantak road signs are simple and amusing. Like this one. Life is a journey. 

I'm still in it and hope to complete. How about you?

Picture courtesy: The un-named photographer