The best part of traveling has always been the window. As far as I can remember, that’s been my favorite part. My eyes instinctively search for it, and there’s always a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips when I find one.

Waiting for my school bus everyday was slightly annoying — only the waiting part. I used to label myself as impatient. But the moment the bus was in my vicinity, something shifted. I’d get ready — well for the short trip — by the window, of course. Looking outside became my favorite pastime. All my attention would drift there — to the chattering people, the worn-out posters, the noisy excitement of children climbing into the bus. I’d quietly hum whatever song was stuck in my head or replay lines from the last TV show I watched. My eyes took in everything even though the routes were already memorized. And somewhere between all that, my thoughts would wander. Funny how I once believed I’d be stress-free once I graduated from school. Oh, how wrong we were.

Trains have always felt easy, familiar — almost comforting. As I step into the ladies’ compartment, I find myself doing the same thing again, searching for the window seat. It’s a habit that never left me. I’ve travelled by train since I was a little kid, so there’s nothing new about it — and maybe that’s exactly why it feels right. A faint mix of flowers, perfume and food lingers in the air, but it barely reaches me before my earphones do. The music fills my ears, the lyrics clearer than ever, while my mind drifts somewhere far away — not stopping at any stations. The train feels safer like an armor wrapped around me. The air rushing in, gently messing my hair never bothered me. Sometimes I wish there were more stations. Sometimes I wish it would never stop.

Car rides are fun, — especially when it’s raining. When the rain drops fall on the window, they look like tear drops. Watching each one slide down slowly has a way of calming me. On longer journeys I sometimes read. There have been moments filled with quiet meaningful conversations too. Sitting by the window, watching everything and everyone move feels like a gentle reminder that nothing really stays still. And somehow that makes me want to stay present. One of the biggest shifts in my mindset happened during a long car drive. Car rides are peaceful. Maybe because of the stillness inside with just a few people around. Or maybe it is the simple act of looking out of the window and noticing things — even the smallest ones.

I got a seat by the glass for my first solo- trip abroad — which I was genuinely grateful for. This one felt different. A new continent, a new beginning, a whole life waiting ahead — university, housing, people, money, everything. And yet the moment I looked out of the window all of that faded. When I first boarded the plane, I was questioning everything. My mind kept asking, how did we get here? But as the plane began to take off, something inside me shifted. Looking out, it felt like I was floating among the clouds. The morning sunlight that the sky in a shade of yellow instantly became my favorite. In that moment, the view didn’t just show me the world outside — it reflected something within me too. My pride. My strength. And the choices that bought me here. Somehow, it made everything feel a little bit more magical.

Every window seat has been special. I may not remember all the destinations clearly, but I  always remember the feeling. With each journey I learnt something, lost something, and gained something. Maybe that’s why I’ve always been drawn to that spot by the window. Maybe leaving a piece of my heart by the window was never such a bad idea after all.