DEEP SOUTH 2025 - The Grieving Ride

The ride was never about fitness or distance—it was about healing a pain no medicine could reach. I crossed into Thailand not for escape, but for something quieter: a place where motion might soothe what words could not. On the road, the danger didn’t unsettle me—it sharpened my senses, reminded me I was still here. What stayed with me most were the encounters: the working class who spoke plainly about survival, their resilience reflecting the quiet endurance I hadn’t known I was mustering; the ruins, half-swallowed by time, standing anyway—proof that broken things could still hold beauty. Food stalls became small altars of comfort: the warmth of broth, the kindness in a vendor’s smile, the way a single bowl of Tomyam Kung could make me feel human again. And the sea, wide and indifferent, gave me a silence that didn’t demand anything from me. I never said aloud what I had lost, but in these moments, I saw it differently—not as something to run from, but something I could carry more gently. The road didn’t heal me outright—but it reflected my grief back in softer tones, until I could face it without flinching.

The pain still rides with me—but now, it moves in rhythm with life, no longer in defiance of it.

#AlFatihah #Orphaned