Today, I have started writing a small diary here. No photographs, no videos, but just simple thoughts that flow.

It seems like just yesterday that my friend and I were sitting in one corner of the deck, late in the evening, sipping our drinks and brooding over the simmering lights on the distant hill across the valley. A moment to savor. The cool breeze and a ‘who-who’ of an owl somewhere nearby. We talked about how villages do give peace of mind, but at a cost. The finances go for a toss. Job opportunities and businesses usually don’t do so well in such faraway places. But, at least, there is some amount of happiness. I can sit quietly and think over things, read a book, and chat with a friend without bothering with the internet or phone.

Such moments are priceless. Even though this was many months ago, I can still remember those lovely moments and live them again. The discussion seems lively and recent. The time was early autumn and the evening wind was starting to develop a pleasant winter nip. After a warm day, such an evening was well awaited.

This is what slow life is and this is what he told me to start journaling.