An Icelandic Reflection

Written by Hamza Gulzar Khan

We hiked up mountains, tried rye bread baked underground, and saw the most beautiful waterfalls. We went to a beach with black sand, saw a glacier in all its glory, and wild horses. We met the most beautiful people, had exquisite coffee and ate the freshest fish I've ever had. And now, I can revisit these memories with my friends. Would it hold the same weight if I experienced it with no one? I need to know that someone witnessed the beauty I did.

Most of the time and for most things, I am cynical. I get tired of things easily and the default lens of all that I see is on the greyscale. I don't believe in smiling for my own sake. I can't explain how it happens but in comes a story. It's very simple, a person chooses to put it out that they love doing something. A very brave thing to believe a dream could ever coexist with reality. Nothing needs to be said, no need to explain how the change comes. The mountains are more beautiful knowing they catch a dreamer's heart.

You must know something about these trips. Anything born out of a dream and imbued with love is misrepresented if you just look at how it is materially presented to you. Is the glass set gifted to you by your mother just a glass set? Or is her food comparable to other food? Is a handwritten letter to you just words on a paper? I would be lying to you if I told you anything else. When you interact with something made from love, a part of that love is transferred to your own heart. Love is naturally potent, and its only pathway is one heart to another.

What I'm trying to say is when the trip is over and you're back home and you're back to routine, you won't feel at ease. These trips were born out of dreams. They are potent. If they leave you yearning for more, it is only natural.

Photography by Nida Syed