The Journey of Stories: A Bus Ride from Kamakhya to Jalukbari

Travel is often romanticized as a series of grand landscapes, thrilling adventures, and bucket-list experiences. But for me, it’s the stories of people—the fleeting, unplanned conversations—that make the journey truly unforgettable. One such moment happened on a bus ride from Kamakhya to Jalukbari, a seemingly ordinary commute that turned into a window into another person’s world.

As I settled into my seat, the bus chugging along the winding roads, I found myself next to a man who seemed to carry a quiet sense of wisdom. He was about 51, his weathered face bearing the marks of a life spent in motion. We exchanged casual greetings, and soon, our conversation unfolded like an old book brought to life.

He told me about his years as a roadside seller, traveling across South India. For 20 years, he had journeyed from one town to another, setting up makeshift stalls in bustling markets, selling everything from trinkets to tools. His eyes lit up as he spoke, the corners of his mouth curling into a nostalgic smile. It was as if, in that moment, he was revisiting the crowded streets of Chennai, the vibrant festivals of Kerala, or the quaint bazaars of Karnataka.

I couldn’t help but ask him, “What keeps you happy after all these years on the road?”

His response was simple yet profound. He turned to me with a soft smile and said, “I have two kids. My happiness comes from working hard to give them a good education.”

It struck me how his world was both expansive and deeply rooted. He had seen countless places, yet his dreams revolved around the small but mighty goal of securing a better future for his children.

As the bus began to slow down, signaling our stop, we exchanged one last smile. We both knew that our paths were unlikely to cross again. But there was no sadness in the goodbye—just a quiet acknowledgment of the beauty of a brief connection.

Travel isn’t just about destinations or landmarks; it’s about moments like these, where two strangers share pieces of their lives, leaving each other a little richer in spirit. That man’s story—of resilience, dreams, and devotion—reminded me of why I love to travel. It’s not about checking places off a list; it’s about connecting with the essence of humanity, one conversation at a time.

As I stepped off the bus in Jalukbari and watched it fade into the distance, I carried his story with me—a reminder that every journey holds a universe of untold stories waiting to be discovered. everything from trinkets to tools eyes lit up as he spoke, the corners of his mouth curling into a nostalgic smile. It was as if, in that moment, he was revisiting the crowded streets of Chennai, the vibrant festivals of Kerala, or the quaint bazaars of Karnataka.

I couldn’t help but ask him, “What keeps you happy after all these years on the road?”

His response was simple yet profound. He turned to me with a soft smile and said, “I have two kids. My happiness comes from working hard to give them a good education.”

It struck me how his world was both expansive and deeply rooted. He had seen countless places, yet his dreams revolved around the small but mighty goal of securing a better future for his children.

As the bus began to slow down, signaling our stop, we exchanged one last smile. We both knew that our paths were unlikely to cross again. But there was no sadness in the goodbye—just a quiet acknowledgment of the beauty of a brief connection.

Travel isn’t just about destinations or landmarks; it’s about moments like these, where two strangers share pieces of their lives, leaving each other a little richer in spirit. That man’s story—of resilience, dreams, and devotion—reminded me of why I love to travel. It’s not about checking places off a list; it’s about connecting with the essence of humanity, one conversation at a time.

As I stepped off the bus in Jalukbari and watched it fade into the distance, I carried his story with me—a reminder that every journey holds a universe of untold stories waiting to be discovered.