Routes

Lakes, mountains, rooftops, and rivers—Switzerland gave silence, Paris gave song; together they taught that journeys are lived in fragments, not destinations

X“Don’t forget to carry your favourite Parle-G, you’ll miss it there,” my mother had said while stuffing biscuits into my backpack. I laughed it off, but hours later, when I bit into a cold sandwich on the train from Zurich to Lucerne, her words came back to me with startling clarity. That’s how travel works—between postcard landscapes and museum halls, it’s the smallest reminders of home that pierce the heart. Travel begins long before the plane takes off towards your destination.

Zurich welcomed me with a crisp morning. Even the air felt curated—clean, cold, tinged with coffee from the kiosks at the airport station. My fir

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