lifepath

When the Road Ahead is Found Behind

Why the courage to retrace can redefine progress

It was one of those carefree summer holidays. My cousin and I would rent bicycles after breakfast and set out with no map, no plan, only a promise to return before sunset. The forests of Dakshina Kannada welcomed us with winding mud roads, small wooden bridges, and the quiet thrill of discovery. He would pick a turn, and I would follow, confident that in any direction a relative’s house awaited us with food and rest.

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Dilli

I opened my sketchbook and drew the India Gate,
standing tall like a doorway to stories untold.
Beneath it, I placed tiny dots of people—
tourists, school kids, dreamers, all walking through history.

Next came rickshaws, buzzing like cheerful beetles,
and a tea stall where steam curled into the winter sky.
I shaded the domes of Rashtrapati Bhavan,
imagining them as golden crowns balancing on the horizon.

Even the pigeons in Connaught Place looked proud,
as if they knew this was no ordinary city—
but the heart that beats for millions.

I smiled as I signed my page.
Today, my passport had Delhi stamped in pencil.

✨ Where would your Pencil Passport take you today?
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The flying bus

✏️ Day 11 – The Flying Bus
The school bus rattled down the road today,
its windows yawning, its seats yawning louder.

So I sketched a pair of wings on its sides.
Feather by feather, the bus stretched and lifted,
rising like a bird that had been waiting too long.

Children leaned out of the windows,
their laughter spilling like confetti into the clouds.
And I sat in the last row, sketchbook in hand,
watching a bus discover its secret—that it was never meant for roads.

✨ Where would your Pencil Passport take you today?
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