I would love to travel the region, uninterrupted by the sour-faced immigration, corrupted customs and the need for passports. I would like to travel with just a backpack, my trustworthy watch and my cellphone. I would love to travel without the troublesome concept of borders. Imagine the world without borders. Imagine how we would feel with the sweeping happiness of the adventure.
Is there truly a need for borders? What, to protect the sovereignty of the country? What rubbish! For a traveler, borders are as inconvenient and annoying as a swarm of sand flies. Borders stink of bureaucracy, the rot of paperwork and the garbage of how the institutions are keeping an eye on those who travel into their borders. But what does borders really do? How does it facilitate a spirit of solidarity and understanding? I mean, we have seen and read how nations commit themselves to war and destruction, merely because of borders. People have perished, property destroyed, the land raped and untold misery because of the presence of borders.
Borders, that thin ghastly red line that separates us from embracing each other. That thin line that prevents us from accepting one another. Borders, a technicality of the right of rule, the invisible line that many times make us inaccessible and unavailable to the realms of adventure.