August is the not the month to travel, once you leave you can’t come back home. My grandmother use to say. Don’t know the story quite well, but I guess it was about some saint who made a long trip but never came back… or something else. But I was never allowed to make flight tickets for mom on the 1st of august. I was never allowed to make travel plans for myself in the month of August. Whatever goes in august never comes back. As a child I used to wonder, what exactly happens to the people who never come back. Where do they go?
Some space between life and death? Some place which is beyond the understanding of the logical mind. I found it very intriguing then.
This august i wanted to get rid of something in me.
Which is that one thing in me I want to go and never want it to come back?
I let it go… I let it go…
This august, I let go of my ego....
