Japan slowly stopped feeling foreign.
Each morning, Parampal Singh stepped out into the streets of Tokyo with growing confidence. He learned how to read the train lines by color, how to stand on the correct side of the escalator, how to bow slightly when thanking someone. Small things—but they made him feel connected.
One day, he explored Asakusa, walking beneath the great red gate of Senso-ji Temple. Incense smoke drifted through the air as visitors prayed quietly. Parampal washed his hands at the stone fountain, copying the locals, feeling a calm he hadn't expected. He tied a small fortune slip to a rack, smiling at the idea of luck following him across the world.
Another day, he went to Akihabara, where lights flashed and anime characters stared down from towering buildings. He wandered through electronics shops, listened to game sounds echo through the streets, and realized how many worlds could exist inside one city.
He challenged himself to eat what locals ate. Ramen in a tiny shop with only six seats. Sushi prepared right in front of him by a chef who barely spoke but smiled often. He learned that food could tell stories without words.
One evening, he traveled to Mount Fuji's nearby region. Standing beneath its quiet power, he felt small—but peaceful. The mountain didn't demand attention. It simply existed, strong and timeless.
At night, Parampal often walked without direction. He crossed bridges glowing with reflections, watched vending machines light empty streets, and listened to the city breathe. Sometimes he sat alone, sometimes with strangers who became friends for a single evening.
Japan taught him something important:
Discipline doesn't mean lack of freedom.Silence can be powerful.And beauty exists in simplicity.
When it was time to leave, Parampal stood at the station longer than necessary. Japan was no longer just his first country.
It was the place that showed him how to travel not just with his feet—but with his heart.
He wrote one last line before packing his bag:
"I arrived curious.I leave changed."
And with that, he stepped toward the next country, ready for whatever came next.