Being Solo
blog image

  • 2nd July 2026, 12:16 PM


  • I always hated it. Hated it since my childhood. Hated to be out, solo. Even though, I always wanted to be an extrovert, and when I think about it, I am, but only when someone is around. A friend, I guess. So, I define it as…
  • “I am an ambivert who loves to travel. And that’s the bio on my insta” I replied.
  • “Hm, nice, what more?” Chanchal asked, her keen eyes starring at me. The more she gazed, the more I thought about her rather me and wondered if it is the first time somebody wants to know about me?

  • Among three of us in the car, Tushar was the one driving. Amid the conversation he shared his experience of lying to his parents about visiting Uttarakhand but traveled to Thailand instead.
  • “What would I say to my parents, if I were to go to Uttarakhand?” I thought.
  • I kept listening to Tushar’s casual experiences and Chanchal’s thought provoking questions about introspections.
  • “One must try solo for once” Tushar said.

  • ***
  • It was a childhood dream that I always wanted to see for real, the mountains I always wanted to climb, the rivers I wanted to boat, the ice I wished to slide, the riverside or forests I wished to camp in. For all these national-geographic wishes, I grew up, waited if people adds me to their plans or join mine.
  • Nobody did. They had their own plans. Plans with their families or so called friends.
  • I thought of what Tushar and others said.

  • **Preparations**
  • I had already lied for granting leaves to my company. This time even the CTO’s gaze couldn’t force the truth out of me. I said that I was going to village. Simple statement and no story making. Unlike the last excuse for GramSutr this one was a complete lie. I mailed the lie for 3-4days of leave.
  • “Ravi, what is this 3-4days? You must mention the exact days. Either 3 or 4 days” the team lead said. I changed the mail body mentioning 4 days.

  • I had started the itinerary a week ago, writing it down in the notebook won from VolFest 2026. Hm.. won, do you think that?
  • Searching from youtube and chatGPT, I jotted down the itinerary, a graph data structure with timeline, activity list, stay options and what to pack. It took me 3 days to pack the surviving items and the same number of days for my family to guess that I was serious. The list of items packed were dahi-chura, roasted chana, sprouts, a packet of Yippie noodles, a pair of clothes, an extra oversized t-shirt, power bank, toothbrush, etc. There was no need for permissions as I couldn’t ask. I wasn’t talking since months. One of the reasons I had to go.

  • **Departure**
  • I had asked some people for the last time to join, wishing they wouldn’t. The bus ticket was booked a day ago. A cheap “welcome tour and travel” bus, booked from PayTM with cheap rating and… it got canceled at the evening, just a few hours from departure. It was already Sunday, and I had wasted the only 2nd Saturday off with Preeti, a long lost friend. I had no time to think.
  • “He would go and come back for the delicious Chhole that I am going to cook” Sister said, pointing to the grocery that I bought to avoid bitter guard cooked often at home. I snapped the fattened bag at back and left.

  • I was scared. It was about 8pm. I thought of the last time I left for Gopalpura. I had recharged my phone for phone calls in case of emergency. It was months since I recharged to make calls.
  • I crossed Bilal’s alley and reached the bus stand. I was planning to take the metro in case, but suddenly a bus flashed its front LED display, “Kashmiri Gate ISBT” animating through it. I entered through the exit gate. Passing through the empty bus towards the backend, bus conductor saw me confused.
  • “Where you want to go?” He said.
  • “Kashmiri gate” I read the LED flashboard being animated in my mind.
  • I sat at last cornered seat, placed above the bus engine. It was an AC-chilled bus, with an unbearable cold as a consequence of emptiness. All that time in the bus, I had felt nothing but scared. Scared of the silence, scared of my phone’s battery going down, the calls I couldn’t pick. Scared of chatGPT failing to control it. I thought of playing Spotify. There was no song inspiring me to travel. I searched travel songs but couldn’t sooth with them. Finally, I did nothing but looking out the window accepting the fear inside.

  • An hour later, the bus left us a stand before the actual terminal it was supposed to leave us. It was around 10pm. I somehow asked an auto guy about the way to ISBT.
  • “From where to find buses that leads outside Delhi” the words I actually spoke.
  • He directed me to a square like infrastructure that I already guessed, is the terminal. I knew a little of it through a youtube video which was dedicated to the Kashmiri gate ISBT. I realised the video had nothing to do if you are actually lost absent minded. I came early from the departure timing mentioned in my cancelled ticket so that I ask for refund and buy another. I didn’t find that “welcome tour and shit” bus counter.

  • Earlier I wondered why are these private AC buses costs about 300-400Rs whereas the government buses for 400Rs or more. And now the government buses were way cheaper with difference of 200Rs or more. I didn’t know the reason until I waited, and waited for more than an hour. I saw people pushing each other in crowds to just enter the bus. I was crowded among a large number of ants. A heard of people running as soon as a govt bus appears. A non AC govt bus.
  • “What the hell is wrong here?” I thought.

  • With a typical Indian mindset that I will miss it if I won’t hurry, I boarded in one of the busses. The bus was so crowded that the bottle kept aside my bag popped up its cap. I was in the bus but got no seat. As soon as I thought of board down a man pulled my shirt.
  • “Quickly, sit here” he whispered.
  • I sat at that ugly looking seat. Or I should say the ugly looking bus. The bus started moving and I had no time to actually board down after I asked the obvious question to the man beside me that why are these people going crazy to just board on the bus.
  • “The people are going to Haridwar for Nahaye and tomorrow is the last day” he answered.
  • That time I regretted the decision based on my typical Indian mindset.
  • “What about you?” He asked, with a suspicious stare at my neutral face.
  • “What if they got to know that the only person in the bus who this man has offered the seat is atheist?” I thought and avoided answering.

  • **Day 1**
  • I felt the heatwaves inside the oven like bus although it was early morning. The man who offered me the seat was lying down in the narrow walking passage of the bus, with his cardboard sheet. I did not disturbed him as I got little more space of his seat. Sunlight passing thought the windows kept warming my face while I was trying to have a nap, so I put my handkerchief to lighten it.

  • It was already 6hrs late from its original 6hrs of travel time. I kept looking google maps, the exact path it followed through, labelled as national highway but size of a street. The street that we mention as street number in our home address in Delhi. It was an alternative path as “the main highway that leads to Haridwar is blocked by government” the man said beside me. He woke up.
  • I was getting a hope as soon as the alternative highway was about to join the main highway. All these religious people would unload at Haridwar and I would be in the very few people left for ongoing journey. Suddenly the bus stopped. No traffic around.
  • “The bus will not go further, please debus” the driver announced.
  • “But why?” One the few person from my earlier imagination shouted.
  • “The police officers has disallowed to pass on” He replied her.
  • I peaked from the window and saw the police barricades just a few steps before joining to the national highway, the broad one.
  • The few of us asked for the refund for the journey that was left as per our ticket but the argument did not turn into money.

  • Here I was standing at the highway joint of Haridwar, scared of asking for directions.
  • “It is too late, to go back” I said to no one, and started walking, looking at the phone’s low battery and uncountable missed calls from Mom. I messaged her that I’d switch off my phone if she kept calling. I hoped for her reply but I knew at the same time that she couldn’t. I even picked Sobhit’s call and rudely responded that it isn’t his matter to involve.

  • Somehow, I managed a little consciousness in the busy highway and asked an auto guy about the directions and mode to take further. He suggested another government bus. I asked a policeman too and he patted on my shoulder as soon as we saw the bus appearing and disappearing at the same time. I ran for it. Boarded in it.

  • Finally, it was a time to calm down. A group of teenagers kept gossiping about their plans, their imaginary plans. They screamed looking at the famous Ohm Bridge on the left side of the bus while I kept looking right through the window. The river, the trees, the forest and the mountains. The view formed a gradient from bottom to top or say the farther I tried looking. I was sure that it wasn’t smog that blurred the mountain tips.

  • I reached the destination. Looked up at the peninsula view of mountains. Looked down searching for the teenage group but they were gone. I sat on a bench and had breakfast of Dahi Chura that I packed along. Amid eating I listened a group of guys leaving for home. I asked their suggestion for the stay. They asked me the budget and sneered when I said “It is 300-400Rs”

  • I moved on, sweat pouring down the chin.
  • “Where do you want to go?” An auto guy said matching his speed with my walk.
  • “I’m looking for dormitory or ashrams”
  • I told him my budget.
  • “You won’t find any at that price”
  • “Then, where can I go with that budget?”
  • “Hm.. you can go to Pramarth Niketan at the opposite side of Janki Setu. At night, you will find people sleeping at the front of the ashram. You can sleep among them.”
  • “Ok” I did not realise at that time.

  • I walked confused for about half an hour and then messaged AJ for Bablu or Hariom’s number, the one who traveled solo. Called.
  • “Why everything is so expensive here?”
  • “Brother, it’s the peak season over there”
  • With that statement I understood the economics and ignored rest of his words.

  • I reminded my self.
  • “There is no going back”

  • To be continued…

Have a feedback?