Wishing I was there

There is something very romantic about being a tourist. You see people and places and admire them. You imagine what it would be like to live in those pretty places. You dream of their perfect looking lives and wonder if there is that life in store for you sometime. You wish it was, because it looks so perfect and you have this idealized view of yourself and your life in the future.

I remember visiting Bangalore as a child and wondering how exciting it would be to actually live there. A city full of neon lights and buzzing restaurants and different people, exciting events happening all the time. When I did live in Bangalore, I don't think I enjoyed it as much as I had dreamed I would as a child. 

I sit on my favourite bench here, watching tourists from different places, races, cultures and think of their exciting lives. I think of the fun that they will have in their next destination. I think of the people they will meet, the food they will sample, the places they will admire and wonder if there is any of that waiting to happen to me. And while I dream on, I catch them looking at me, with the same wonder and longing in their eyes as when I look at them.