It is rare for me to sit pillion on motorcycles, But now I didn't have a choice, and I was starting to like it. It protected me from the cold and allowed me to enjoy the nature around. I even bumped into a wild buffalo in the city center. "Have they lost their way, or have we taken their place?" There was a splendor bike left to rust at the cottage. I wondered If I could get the bike repaired so I can move around. The feeling of being lost is coming back. I am seeing many kinds of people. All have their own stories and struggles. I see old people carrying firewood on the roads. People earning their livelihood with small food joints serving hot meals in this chill climate. I have my respect for them. But I don't want to settle down here, and I need to keep moving. I wondered "how do i reach to the top of the country?" I always thought "What's the fun when you know your next day?" Because When I first started working , I had got very comfortable