We have been called many things. Travelers, by default. We like to be called nomads. Explorers. Vagabonds. Adventurers. Wayfarers. Modern gypsies. Wanderers. We've adopted them all. That is who we are. And that's just the gist of it.
We come from all walks of life, from bustling gray colored cities, sleepy beach towns, snow-covered metropolises, small villages nestled in between lush green mountains, we come from everywhere. But our inner gravity always brings us to the same place...
One day, when we are old with silver hair, freckles, creases, and laugh wrinkles from many years of wandering drenched under sunlight, our children's children will lay out with us under the stars by a campfire on a moonlit beach elsewhere. We will tell them stories of wild adventures, of lived dreams, of enchanting places, of conquered fears, of lessons that turned into gold, lessons that we've learned from the road of life. Our journeys will inspire their own.
We come from all walks of life, from bustling gray colored cities, sleepy beach towns, snow-covered metropolises, small villages nestled in between lush green mountains, we come from everywhere. But our inner gravity always brings us to the same place...
One day, when we are old with silver hair, freckles, creases, and laugh wrinkles from many years of wandering drenched under sunlight, our children's children will lay out with us under the stars by a campfire on a moonlit beach elsewhere. We will tell them stories of wild adventures, of lived dreams, of enchanting places, of conquered fears, of lessons that turned into gold, lessons that we've learned from the road of life. Our journeys will inspire their own.
Oh travellers of this world,
Your destination is the grave..
Since the creation of this world,
Thousands and millions have arrived
No one is left,
They've been engulfed by soil
Do not forget this,
This will be everyone's final abode
Oh travellers of this world,
Your destination is the grave
With your own eyes,
How many burials have you witnessed?
With your own hands,
How many of the dead have you buried?
Of your own consequences,
Why are you so unaware?
Oh travellers of this world,
Your destination is the grave
Those who slept on velvet,
On soil they are sleeping..
Kings and beggars alike,
Together they are sleeping.
Both are equal,
This is the effect of death
Oh travellers of this world,
Your destination is the grave
These great mansions you have,
They are of no use
These tall and lofty buildings (that you have built),
They are of no use
Only two metres of this vast earth,
Will be your small home
Oh travellers of this world,
Your destination is the grave
One day you have arrived,
Another it is, you have to leave
You are not to stay in this world,
Your destination is to leave..
Author and Credits: Stephanie Dandan
Junaid Jamshed, english translation: Sumaiya Umm Imran