Why you need travel insurance.

Jesus


 I usually shy away from writing anything publicly. But, lately, I've been addicted to doing things that used to scare me the most. And am just going with the flow:


The night before my 24th birthday, I decided to do something I always wanted to do. I hated my corporate job. My favorite time-pass on my workstation used to be updating an excel file containing my tentative itinerary to travel the whole of India. It used to be my only source of entertainment amidst the mind-numbing, monotonous routine.

3 days after my birthday, I put in my papers. My boss was more confused than angry. I was in charge of doing some technical work for a lots-of-money-involved project. And I was literally tinkering with the deadline. I told him I wanted to see India. He didn't get it. Still hasn't.

Those few days, while I served my notice period, were awesome. Surprisingly, my body aches vanished. I got my voracious appetite back. And I worked like a mule, to complete my tasks ASAP. My parents came to terms with my travelling alone, though they thought I was doing so because none of my friends would get such a long break. I stopped telling people about my plan, mostly because they thought I was being immature, not grasping the gravity of the situation.


And then I left Mumbai. Man, it was liberating! 3 days into the trip, I cancelled all the tickets. Then onwards, it was just impromptu planning, everyday. I ate on the streets, sometimes slept in the open. Did whatever I was cautioned against.


I made almost 4-5 friends daily. They helped me chalk out my next destination, making sure they were the best hosts of my trip. I hitch-hiked whenever I could. I asked for free food and free stay, shamelessly. And I was welcomed with open arms. I befriended a dog in Goa, learnt how to travel without a ticket in Jan Shatabdi, observed with awe as a Kathakali performer put on his makeup, stayed in a hut alone all day, just breathing, witnessed Deepavali on two consecutive days (Tamil Nadu celebrates a day before the rest of India). And I conversed with people without having any common language.


There were numerous experiences. I felt like a toddler, suddenly starting to walk, and looking at the world from a very different angle. And then I came back to Mumbai. Only this time, I was much more calm. I felt a sense of satisfaction, having learnt a lot about nature and life. And never once did I feel any regret about leaving my job. I met Veenu, who was working double shifts for 2 years, just so he could spend Rs. 50k for a distance MBA course. There were many people like him with far worse conditions. But they all smiled at, and laughed with, me. Somehow, my own life seemed far easier.


And about the risk. The biggest risk you can ever take, is holding yourself back from doing what you want to. That way, you risk death while you're still alive.