I love to travel and have a special connection with the

Hear the words of Tripti Dimri, who proclaimed: “I love to travel and have a special connection with the mountains.” At first they sound simple, spoken like a gentle confession of the heart. Yet beneath them lies a truth older than cities and kings: that the mountains have always been the dwelling place of vision, and that the journey of the traveler is not merely across the earth, but also into the soul.

The love of travel is the love of discovery, the yearning to leave behind the familiar and embrace the unknown. For what is the road but a teacher, what is the path but a forge? When one walks beyond the gates of home, the world unfolds as a scroll written by the hand of the Eternal. In mountains, rivers, and winds, the traveler reads wisdom no book has yet contained. Dimri’s words remind us that the spirit of travel is not escape, but awakening.

And why the mountains? Because mountains are the eternal guardians, standing higher than man’s ambition, older than his empires. They are the pillars between earth and sky, where silence itself becomes a voice. From Sinai, Moses brought the law; from Olympus, the Greeks heard the quarrels of gods; from Kailash, the sages found visions of eternity. To stand among mountains is to stand before what cannot be conquered, and to feel oneself both small and yet profoundly alive.

Consider the tale of Milarepa, the great Tibetan mystic. He withdrew into the high mountains, clothed in rags, living in caves, surviving on nettles. There, in solitude among the snow peaks, he conquered not kingdoms, but himself. His songs of realization echo still, carrying the message that the mountains grant not wealth, but clarity. Like Tripti Dimri, he felt a special connection with the mountains, for in their silence he heard the truth that the noisy valleys cannot reveal.

To love the mountains is also to honor struggle. For the ascent is never easy: the air grows thin, the body weary, the path uncertain. Yet each step upward is a triumph, a reminder that elevation of the soul comes only through effort. Just as the traveler climbing the ridge must fight against fatigue, so too must every seeker rise above despair, doubt, and fear. The summit becomes the symbol of victory—not over the stone itself, but over the weakness within.

The origin of Dimri’s saying is not merely personal; it is universal. Countless wanderers, poets, and seekers have felt that same stirring when the peaks rose before them. The mountains are eternal mirrors, reflecting back to each soul its own longing: for peace, for greatness, for union with what is beyond human grasp. Her words carry this ancient lineage, reminding us that even in our age of machines and cities, the human heart still belongs to the wild heights.

So the lesson is clear: seek out the mountains—whether of stone or of spirit. Do not live only in the valleys of comfort and routine. Travel beyond your safe boundaries; let the road teach you. Climb, even when the climb is hard. Sit in silence and let the immensity remind you of your smallness, and yet also of your dignity. For in loving the mountains, you are drawn toward the eternal, and in loving travel, you are drawn toward transformation.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, follow this teaching: embrace travel as the path of awakening, and cherish the mountains as the altars of truth. Seek them not only in the world, but also in yourselves, for each soul carries peaks yet unclimbed. Walk, climb, ascend—and you shall find that the summit you reach is none other than the summit of your own spirit.