a day in the city of lakes

Boating in Bada Talab; and a heartfelt conversation on a rainy day

We went boating at Bada Talab.
It was raining — soft, steady, and beautiful.
Thank you to my friend for travelling with me — for showing up, for sharing the stillness.

The wind was strong, dancing through the air, brushing against my face like something alive. We paddled slowly, without hurry, circling the lake. Just being there felt like enough.

The whole experience — I’m not sure I can describe it fully, but I’ll try.
It was peaceful. Simple. Healing.
Moments like these remind me how much I love being in nature. How good it feels — how right.
There’s no harm in it.
Only calm, clarity, and something quiet inside coming back to life.
I want to keep travelling. Keep exploring. But more than anything — keep returning to nature.
Because every time I do, something in me heals.

We watched a group learning to windsurf on the far side of the lake. They kept falling, again and again — but they never gave up. They’d fall, get up, try again. For hours.
It was strange how just watching them filled me with belief — not just in them, but in the possibility of trying. That maybe we really can learn anything, keep moving forward, fall and still choose to stand.

Later, we walked to a place called Winds and Waves, overlooking the lake, and then visited the CCD nearby.
If you're ever around Bada Talab in the morning or evening, please go to one of these cafés.
The view is unreal — breathtaking and calm, a quiet kind of magic.
Perfect for being with someone you love. A friend. A partner. Yourself.

My friend and I just sat there and talked — about our heartbreaks.
I told her how mine still lingers.
How I love someone who makes me feel like I’m just an option, while being with someone else.
I told her how I still text him — even while talking about him. That I want him to know I’m here. That I care.
There’s so much love in my heart.
But I also know — I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what he wants.
Someone who dates knowing it’s not right, and ends up hurting others in the process.
What’s the point of that?

That café — that view — gave us the space to open up. To be real.
And in that open space, something softened.
We said the truths we usually hide. And it healed something in me.

I realised that no matter what happens, I will be there for myself.
If I keep listening to my inner voice, I’ll be okay.
I’ll make decisions that are right for me — not perfect maybe, but honest.

And sometimes that’s all you need.