Road number 32

"Continue straight for 800 meters, then turn left onto Road Number 32..." the voice from the little screen came aloud.

I ease the wheel to my left, passing by familiar streets. Some of them are well-known, while others are barely remembered. Each road has held a part of my journey so far. And some roads... I’ve traveled against my will. ;)

The detours and unexpected turns weren’t just disruptions; they added a thrilling sense of adventure to the ride. They were part of the map, part of the journey—even when those roads were filled with potholes, narrow lanes, and the relentless honking of impatient drivers.

I questioned the map many times, wondering if it was all laid out in a void, leading me to some unknown destination. The pathways were intertwined. I’ve driven in circles a few times, stopping the car at random points, wondering if I’d missed the destination.

I recall Road Number 18, where it felt like the final destination had arrived. There was a shortcut from 18 to 81. Little did I know, my certainty would loop me back to the crossroads.

The junction at 22 is etched into my journey. And it felt like no matter which turn I took, the maps kept rerouting themselves. I've come to realize that it’s never about finding the "right" turn; it’s about making a turn and moving forward. I became ready to go wherever the journey led, as long as I didn't stop moving.

At Road Number 25, everyone showed me the path to the light at the end of the tunnel. Each one pointed to a different way, and the maps dutifully plotted every diversion. But in my pitstop, I realized I wasn’t in a tunnel at all—it was a wide-open highway, with a few mirages to chase.

I remember how I reset the maps at Road Number 25, changed the FM station, crumpled and tossed the to-do list, and finished off the water bottle.

By Road Number 26, I was driving with no map at all—and the ride turned beautiful. Encased by mountains, vast oceans, and deep jungles, the roads ahead didn’t look like roads. A few roads were filled with snow, a few were flooded, and a few were in the clouds, and a few... well, they weren't roads at all. They were all adventures, unfolding one after another. My routine was adventures!

With unique sounds of nature surrounded, and the unnamed visitors knocking my car door through out, the journey was quite eventful.

When I passed the magical waterfall on Road Number 30, I hit the brakes, letting the moment stretch out in front of me. I glanced at the timelapse of my journey behind: a blend of sunsets, sunrises, starry nights, and dark alleys.

Then came Road Number 31. May be this is the destination, I thought with silliness. When I parked at the café, I had no idea someone would be joining me in the ‘shotgun seat’ for the journey ahead. Now, the road calls for calm, composed, and consistent long-term commitments. And I’m ready to share this seat with someone else.

I've realised that commitment is perhaps the best 'sin' one could commit. It's the act of committing, of dedicating oneself to a cause or a person, that can turn our vices, our weaknesses, into virtues, our strengths.

And there's no more fabulous adventure than the dull, consistent routine, I was convinced.

The maps might not be able to navigate life ahead. Still, I'm confident now, unlike when I was on Road number 18, that I can navigate the journey ahead. I've learned that it's not about the right turn; it's about taking the right turn, and I'm ready to embrace the journey ahead, however long it takes and how many ever wrong turns I make...!

Let’s see what the roads ahead look like. I just hope the potholes are fixed, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll take the flyover instead of the service roads. ;)