The Sad Part of Travel No One Warns You About

Most people say travel is rejuvenating, but no one really talks about what happens after the trip ends. This feels especially true for people with desk jobs, regular 9-to-5 schedules, or the kind of overtime-heavy work culture that has become common in India.

Once you return from travelling, you are often left with an unsettling feeling. You begin to realise how much of your life is spent restricted to a desk, tied to routines and responsibilities, while there is an entire world outside waiting to be explored. New cities, different cultures, mountain roads, local food, conversations with strangers, and experiences that make life feel bigger than your daily routine. Travel has a strange way of making ordinary life suddenly feel very small.

The truth is that most of our lives are spent working. We spend decades chasing stability, salaries, deadlines, and financial security. Only after retirement do many people finally get the chance to explore the world properly, spend more time on meaningful things, or simply move through life at a slower pace without constantly watching the clock.

After my recent trip, I finally understood why many people choose to limit travelling to retirement. Because when you travel while still working, the months that follow are spent thinking about retirement itself. You start questioning the structure of life in a way you probably never did before.

I think most people are not really craving luxury nowadays. They want peace. A chance to step away from competition, pressure, expectations, and the endless cycle of productivity. But financial responsibilities keep most of us attached to the lives we currently live. And if you think about it, it really is a sad state of affairs. So much of life passes without us truly knowing the world outside our routines. We spend our healthiest years working, saving, and postponing experiences for “someday.” Then, when we finally have enough time and freedom to explore, our physical health may no longer allow us to travel the way we once dreamed of.

Sometimes it genuinely feels like a trap. That is just how modern life is designed. The very rich can afford to live slowly, travel often, and experience the world freely, while the rest of us remain tied to jobs so we can eventually retire with enough money to live comfortably later in life. Until then, most people continue surviving between deadlines, stress, and short vacations that end far too quickly.

It has now been two months since my trip ended, and the feeling of missing the mountains still has not faded. I miss the slow life and mental peace I experienced there deeply. Returning has brought a quiet sadness that has stayed with me ever since. During those ten days of travelling, I experienced bliss as I consciously stayed away from the internet and social media. Honestly, it felt like a relief. When you are travelling, you do not really need distractions because the world around you becomes interesting enough on its own. Every moment feels fuller and more present.

Back home, though, life goes back to screens, schedules, and desk work. And sometimes the internet becomes the only way to explore the world when your real life feels limited to routines.

So now I sit with these thoughts quite often. There is a sombre feeling attached to them. I acknowledge these emotions and quietly hope that one day I return to the version of myself that existed before the trip, when I did not constantly think about whether I was missing out on life, the world, new people, or new experiences. Back then, work and everyday routines felt enough. I was content simply engaging daily with the people I already knew and focusing on responsibilities without questioning life too much.

But travel changes something inside you. That is the difficult part about it. It is both beautiful and cruel at the same time. It opens your eyes to how much more life has to offer, while also reminding you how little time most people actually get to experience it. As the euphoria of the trip fades, the ache lingers.

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Photo by George Pak

If You Were Locked in a Room with 10 Men for 10 Days

I came across this post on Reddit recently. It immediately made me think about my own experiences.

At the end of the day, it really comes down to energy, doesn’t it?

When I was in the North East, and it started snowing heavily, I stepped into a small shed with a heater. The shed was full of North Eastern men, including my guide. I was the only woman there at that moment.

And yet, I did not feel unsafe even for a second.

That moment stayed with me because it showed me something important about how we perceive safety while traveling or being around strangers.

Now imagine a similar situation somewhere else in India. There are some men I know personally, even a few colleagues, with whom I would feel uncomfortable being stuck in a small space. Not because they have ever done anything that could be complained about. Nothing like that. But the energy they give off simply does not make me feel comfortable.

Safety often has less to do with whether we know someone and more to do with the vibes they give off and whether we are comfortable with those vibes.

Many women will relate to this. We tend to have strong instincts when it comes to unsafe environments. Research often suggests that these instincts developed over time as part of human evolution. Women had to learn to read subtle cues in order to stay safe.

That is why sometimes we feel calm around complete strangers, while at other times we feel uneasy around people we already know.

If women were allowed to choose the people they would spend those 10 days locked up with, most of us would probably make the right call about who we feel safe around.

The real problem arises when that choice is taken away from us, and the men we are to be locked up with, whether known or unknown, are chosen by someone else. When that happens, the chances of discomfort or even unsafe situations naturally increase.

For me, that snowy day in the North East was a reminder that safety is not always about familiarity. Sometimes it is simply about the energy people carry, and the signals our instincts quietly pick up.

Sometimes the Best Part of Travel Is the People You Meet

For me, the best part of travel is rarely just the destination. It is almost always the people I meet along the way. Sometimes they are fellow Indians I happen to run into while traveling abroad. Other times, they are locals who live there. Either way, travel experiences often become more meaningful because of the people you unexpectedly connect with.

It always amazes me how you can visit a completely new place and instantly click with someone. Someone you had almost zero chance of meeting in your life. Someone you may never meet again. There is something both beautiful and bittersweet about that.

For a brief moment, you feel understood. You find a kind of ease in being yourself. It makes you wish there was someone like that back home. A friend with whom conversations flow naturally, and silence is comfortable. But when the trip ends, you leave with the quiet realization that a part of that connection belongs to that place and moment. And you need to regrettably acknowledge and accept that fact and move on.

Now that I am back in India after my trip to the North East, I realize something interesting. What stays with me is not the destination or the sightseeing. It is the people I connected with during my travels. The random conversations, the shared laughter, and the small moments that made the journey special.

Those encounters also reminded me of something important. Even in my 40s, making new friends is still very much possible. Travel has a funny way of proving that meaningful connections can happen at any stage of life.

Of course, we can stay connected online. Social media and messaging apps make it easy to keep in touch with people you meet while traveling. But it is never quite the same as meeting someone face to face. There is a kind of chemistry in real-life interactions that online conversations cannot fully capture. The smiles, the sparkle in someone’s eyes, the playful teasing, the expressions, and the shared energy of the moment.

That is one reason why travel feels both rejuvenating and humbling. It lifts you into a small dreamlike bubble for a while. You feel lighter, freer, and more open to people and experiences.

But eventually, every trip ends. You leave that bubble behind and return to everyday life. Routine, work, responsibilities, and schedules slowly start filling your days again. Your mind may not be fully ready for reality for a few days. Part of you is still wandering through those travel memories.

Life, however, has a gentle way of bringing you back to the familiar. Slowly, day by day, you settle back into your usual rhythm. The memories of the trip remain, but over time they soften. The details blur a little. The feelings become less intense.

Until the next journey begins.

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Photo by All teams name

An Ode to Zarna Garg & Family

I recently started watching Zarna Garg’s stand-up videos. Until then, I had only seen snippets of her interviews on Instagram reels. At that time, I assumed she was yet another comic who makes a living by criticizing India, as many Indian comedians do. Negative takes on India tend to get more attention, and I, honestly, had grown a bit tired of that negativity. So I stayed away from watching Zarna’s videos for the longest time.

Eventually, I decided to watch her special Practical People Win on JioHotstar (originally on Hulu). That special led me to the Zarna Garg Family podcast on YouTube, where I found Zarna, her husband, Shalabh, and their three children having honest, open conversations. Something every Indian family could learn from.

In my opinion, it’s a brilliant marketing tactic on her part to build that curiosity around her family in her specials. She says, “My son… so handsome,” “My daughter… so nerdy,” so you naturally want to know more about this family, what they look like, and witness their quirks in real life. This is the intention of the podcast – to get you more involved in the Garg family brand.

People like me crave a more personal connection with celebrities, influencers, and comedians. I want to hear their real thoughts, personal likes and dislikes, without sugarcoating or political correctness. The Garg family brings exactly that authenticity, which keeps you hooked. Bollywood, on the other hand, lacks this today. Most interviews feel overly scripted, with celebrities giving dull, promotional takes right before a movie release.

Zarna calls herself the quintessential “Indian aunty.” As someone in my 40s, I relate to many of her traditional views. Opinions that I did not hold in my 20s. Her daughter Zoya, on the other hand, reminds me of my younger self: idealistic and confident that hard work and determination can achieve anything. But life eventually teaches you that not everything goes your way. However, this is a lesson only experience teaches you. It cannot be taught by others.

I would like to take this chance to point out how much I admire Zoya. She is articulate and strikingly pretty, with the most gorgeous eyes, even though the Garg family often jokes about the eldest son being the most attractive. Zoya is never dismissive or disrespectful to her parents, even when they go against her views. I find this refreshing, especially today when many youngsters tend to be more casual, even rude, with their parents. As an old-school millennial who values parental respect, this stands out to me.

The podcast drew me into Zarna’s world. I ended up binge-watching episodes where the family openly discusses topics like dating, marriage, interracial relationships, and finances. All of them, including the children, are articulate and express themselves clearly and thoughtfully. As someone unmarried and child-free, I couldn’t help but compare their conversations to those my cousins and siblings have with their children. One of my nieces is dating a white man (and she has a history of dating only white men), so Zarna and her husband’s confusion and concerns felt very relatable. The podcast not only helps you reflect on your own feelings but also offers a fresh perspective from the younger generation. This is something new-gen parents can highly benefit from.

What endears me most to Zarna is her unapologetic Indianness. Many Indians abroad change their attire, avoid Indian clothes or bindis, culture, and even end up cooking less traditional food so that the masala smell doesn’t linger on their clothes. They have to compromise on their Indianness, just to blend in, be accepted, and respected. Despite these compromises, racism still continues. So, how much of this “blending in” has proven effective?

I’m of the belief that to enjoy Indian culture fully and unabashedly, one needs to stay back in India. Other countries, unfamiliar with the Indian, especially Hindu, way of life, may not be as accepting or comfortable with it. Living abroad often means diluting many aspects of your culture just to make others feel at ease. Zarna, however, proudly wears her Indian identity on her sleeve. She wears Indian outfits and a bindi on stage, despite admitting she constantly faces racist remarks in the USA over it. Her refusal to shed her identity to fit in is admirable. It takes courage and conviction to stay true to oneself in a foreign land, and Zarna has that in abundance. As racism against Indians has reached new heights globally, Zarna’s pride in her identity is truly inspiring. She shows that we should not cower before hate but instead embrace and celebrate our culture and traditions without fear.

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Picture Source: Instagram/ZarnaGarg

1921 Moplah Riots: False & Misleading Left-Wing Claims

In 1921, Kerala witnessed the Moplah Riots, where numerous Hindus were killed in communal violence. However, to this day, Congress and CPI(M) refuse to acknowledge it as a communal riot and instead label it a “class struggle between Hindu landlords and Muslim peasants.”

I also believed the class struggle narrative until I read B.R. Ambedkar’s book, The Partition of India. He clearly highlights the communal nature of the Moplah Riots, mentioning temple destruction, mass killings, and forced conversions of Hindus.

Some clippings from the book:

Source: Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar : Writings and Speeches (Vol. 8)

If Hindus were specifically targeted, their temples destroyed, and they were forcibly converted, how can this not be considered a communal riot? Ambedkar’s account challenges the attempt to whitewash history by reducing it to just a landlord-peasant conflict.

Here is the question I asked AI and the response it generated:

Question: Were temples destroyed during the Moplah riots?

Answer: Yes, several temples were destroyed, looted, or desecrated during the Moplah Riots of 1921 in the Malabar region of Kerala.

Historical Accounts of Temple Destruction:

Looting and Desecration:
- Many Hindu temples were attacked, idols were broken, and valuables were looted.
- Records mention temples like the Thirumandhamkunnu Bhagavathy Temple being desecrated.
Forced Conversions and Killings:
- The riots targeted Hindus, with reports of forced conversions, massacres, and mass displacement.
- Many Hindus fled their villages, leaving temples unprotected.
British Reports and Historical Records:
- British colonial reports and contemporary eyewitness accounts mention temple destruction.
- Annie Besant and Veer Savarkar documented attacks on Hindu religious sites.

Conclusion:

Yes, temples were destroyed and desecrated during the Moplah Riots, which started as an anti-British uprising but later turned into violent communal attacks against Hindus in Malabar.

So how can it be concluded as merely a class struggle? Next time, someone dismisses the communal angle of the Moplah Riots as propaganda, one should ask, “Why were temples destroyed if the riots weren’t communal? Why did conversions happen? Was Ambedkar lying in his book?“

This is just one of the many lies spread by Congress and CPI(M). Why do they do it? Only they know. Perhaps to ensure Hindus keep supporting them, or maybe to prevent the majority community from developing resentment.

The second reason might have been understandable if only they didn’t paint Hindus as villains in other communal conflicts. The lack of consistency exposes their bias.

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Photo by RDNE Stock project

12 Hard-hitting Quotes from A Thousand Cuts

I purchased A Thousand Cuts because I wanted to know Professor T.J. Joseph’s side of the story. Those who don’t closely follow news from South India might not have heard of him. I will offer an introduction before moving on to the quotes from his book.

Who is Professor TJ Joseph?

Professor T.J. Joseph is a retired college professor from Kerala, India. He gained significant attention after he became a victim of religious extremism. The tragedy that occurred in 2010 shook Kerala to the core and impacted the communal harmony of the state. Never had Kerala witnessed such a radical act in modern history. How and why did this happen?

The Tragic 2010 Incident

In 2010, while working as a Malayalam professor at Newman College in Kerala, Professor Joseph set up a question paper for an exam. One of the questions unexpectedly became viral due to its controversial nature. Professor T.J. Joseph did not mean any harm when he drafted the question. He had simply taken influence from a book that he had read. But alas, many misunderstood the actual intention behind the question and accused the Professor of blasphemy.

Despite offering an apology, communal tensions refused to die down. The religious were angry. Fearing for his life, and feeling utterly unsafe in his surroundings, he ran away from home. After moving from one district to another, he finally decided there was no point in hiding, especially when he had done no wrong. He returned home, only to be eventually attacked by PFI members. He was mercilessly beaten up, and his right hand, which the extremists accused of writing the “dreaded” question, was severed in front of his family, neighbors, and other village folk who stood shellshocked, too scared to intervene. It took multiple complex surgical procedures to re-attach his hand.

Kerala is a state that is renowned for its communal harmony. But it is also known for its appeasement politics. The state government, politicians, and media did little to help Professor TJ Joseph. His Church abandoned him out of fear and ego. The Professor ended up losing his job in the college on the grounds of misconduct, although he was later reinstated after public outcry and intervention by authorities. He was the sole breadwinner in his family, and his wife and children had to endure many hardships due to his job loss. His wife, Salomi, slowly went into depression and died by suicide. The chapter on his wife is the only chapter without a title. It’s as if words aren’t enough to encapsulate the depth of his grief.

I bought his book because I had only heard the media’s version of his story till now. We all know by now how the media often tries to cover up facts based on their own biases. The present state of mainstream media made me purchase the book. I am glad I did it. The details are chilling. The points I am giving are only a summary of the things that happened. When you read the book, you are transported into Professor Joseph’s world of art, cinema, poetry, desperation, fear, courage, and resolve. He explains every little incident in vibrant detail. You can’t help but shed a few tears. I feel Kerala collectively failed him. Yet, his optimism and his dry sense of humor prevail and serve as a source of inspiration. Here’s a teacher who is teaching everyone in his own unique way how to combat the extremes that life throws at you.

Professor T.J. Joseph’s case remains one of the most shocking cases of religiously motivated violence in Kerala. The incident sparked widespread anger and discussions about freedom of expression and religious intolerance. The PFI members involved were later arrested and convicted. But, sadly, as a society, we still remain religiously intolerant. If you take a peek at the comments under any of his videos or news articles, you will know what I mean.

Quotes from Professor TJ Joseph’s Book

In an apology of a democracy, the interests of the mob got weightage over anything else, even if those interests were born out of ignorance, against truth and flagrantly unethical. Vote banks comprise such mobs. They shoulder the chair of power.

Marital life is a kind of war. An extraordinary war that lasts a lifetime. In a normal war, the one who defeats the opponent wins the war. In a marriage, the one who defeats the other will also lose. Therefore, marriage is a war where one must win without defeating the significant other.

My rationale was that as I had taught thousands of students, a large number of whom were Muslims, even if some misguided elements wanted to harm me, wouldn’t they first ask my students, and wouldn’t my students stand up for me and disabuse them of their wrong notions about me?

The mind of a student of literature must be dispassionate. Only in a place where there is no entrenched emotion can all emotion enter. Only in spaces where no one belief has nested itself can enlightenment enter and soar.

As I lay there accepting gifts and graces, I thought I must not merely forgive my attackers but thank them as well. For until then, I had never received so much love and care.

The attack on me was condemned even by Muslim organizations. The Church authorities alone remained silent.

I have been told that the gang that attacked me was made up of active members of an organization called Popular Front of India (PFI) and its political wing known as the Social Democratic Party of India (SDPI). All the members of the attack gang were then sent to various safe houses and shifted from one to another frequently with the help of many sympathizers.

The fish seller in our area in Muvattupuzha was a Muslim. Earlier, if we asked for half a kilo, we would receive exactly half a kilo. That has changed since: when we ask for half a kilo, we get at least three-fourths of a kilo. Only when I threatened to stop buying his fish if he didn’t accept payment did he, very reluctantly, start to accept money from me again.

Pinarayi Vijayan said that the whole of Kerala was on my side and that there was no difference between the extremists from PFI who had chopped off my hand and the church diocese that owned and managed the college.

At one time, having run out of funds, when I was at the end of my tether, Yukthivadi Sanghatana (Rationalists Organization) turned up with the money they had collected for me. I asked myself, why would they need other gods when they are themselves playing the role of God?

After I was attacked and maimed, I appealed to the state chief minister and home minister to withdraw the blasphemy case filed by the police against me of their own accord. The government had no will or courage to withdraw a case they had got instituted for communal appeasement.

The view that the suicide was caused by the unjust and immoral ways of the Newman College authorities predominated. One thing is certain, a dead Salomi is more powerful than a live Salomi. Because what she couldn’t achieve while alive, she could, by dying—bring the management to change their mind.

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Photo by Bithinraj Mb