An Open Letter to Travel

Dear Travel,

I hope you’re well, though I know you’re always on the move. You never rest, just like me. You and I have a story—a story written on the crinkled pages of well-worn maps, between the creases of a dusty backpack & across the unpaved roads of distant villages. Today, on World Tourism Day, I wanted to sit down & reflect on our journey together. You’ve been my companion, my guide, & my constant muse. Together, we’ve meandered through bustling streets, trekked over hills, dipped our toes into cool rivers & paused in silent awe before ancient temples. I write to you not just as a traveler but as a someone who has let go of the comfort of home & surrendered to the unpredictability of the road. So, this letter is my thank you, my reflection & my expression of endless gratitude.

It’s a relationship built on curiosity, wanderlust & an ever-growing appreciation for the beauty, chaos & simplicity of life. As I sit under the shade of a banyan tree in some village, sipping chai made by hands I will never see again, I am overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. You are vast and varied. You stretch from the icy peaks of the Himalayas to the sun-soaked sands of Kanyakumari. You exist in the bustling markets of Old Delhi & the serene backwaters of Kerala. You reveal yourself in the chants of temple bells, the call to prayer from a mosque & the hum of an ancient prayer wheel. You are everywhere, yet always new. It’s not just the landscapes that call out to me, though they do have their magnetic pull. What truly defines you here, travel, is the people fiercely individual, yet collectively woven into the intricate story. Each journey I’ve embarked on has been a lesson, each destination a chapter in the book of life. There’s something poetic in how you, travel, manage to bring life to the mundane & magic to the ordinary.

Let me take you along on my journey; no itinerary, no fixed destination; just the sheer joy of wandering.

I remember the first time I felt your pull. It wasn’t a grand moment, but rather a slow & quiet realization. I was in Mumbai, that sprawling metropolis where the sea kisses the city’s edge. Watching the waves crash against Marine Drive’s sturdy walls, I couldn’t help but wonder what lay beyond the horizon. The city’s energy, its people, its contrasts – all of it spoke to me, yet I yearned for something more. There was an itch to leave behind the predictable chaos of daily life & follow wherever you, travel, might lead. So, one fine morning, I packed my backpack, light enough to remind me that I didn’t need much, but heavy enough to hold stories waiting to unfold.

When I first stepped into the life of a nomad, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The idea of not having a fixed address was daunting. But what I didn’t realize was that I was exchanging one form of shelter for another a home with four walls for a home with endless horizons. I was unsure, anxious & filled with the doubts that come with being a woman, alone on the roads of India. "Is it safe?" "Will I be judged?" "What if I get lost?" These questions echoed in my mind like an old, broken record, one that had been playing for generations, warning women to stay within their boundaries. But something inside me was louder than those fears, a voice that craved freedom, adventure & the thrill of the unknown. I was hesitant, unsure if I was ready to embrace a life so full of uncertainties. You, however, were patient. You didn’t demand that I change immediately. You allowed me to take those baby steps to step out of my comfort zone. I still hear the sounds of that early morning chai vendor’s call, the first sip of hot, spiced tea at a roadside stall & the laughter of children playing in the streets. That day, you whispered to me, “There’s more.” And there was so much more. You took me by the hand, introducing me to landscapes I had only seen in my dreams & people whose kindness redefined hospitality for me.

My first trip wasn’t a grand affair. It was a simple train journey from Mumbai to Kokan, but it felt monumental. As the train chugged along, passing through landscapes that transformed from concrete jungles to the serene landscapes of Kokan, I realized how small my fears were in comparison to the world outside. I leaned out of the window, the hot air whipping through my hair & for the first time, I felt free. It was during this journey that I learned the most important lesson you, have ever taught me—freedom doesn’t come from security, it comes from trust. Trust in myself, in the people I meet & in the roads I choose to walk. Each day with you feels like a new beginning. From waking up in Kerala to the scent of fresh coconuts mingling with the salty sea breeze to rising with the camels in Rajasthan’s Thar Desert. Do you remember our time in Hampi? That morning, the sun crept over the ruins, casting long shadows on the ancient boulders. It felt like I was witnessing a dialogue between the past & present. You showed me that India is not just a country of geographical beauty but a place where history lives & breathes in every corner. It’s in the intricate carvings on a temple wall, in the storytelling of a village elder, or in the quiet resilience of people who have seen time flow like the rivers that nourish their land.

Remember that one time in Kerala, a fisherman’s family once invited me in their humble home by the backwaters. We sat by the water’s edge, sipping coffee as the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange & pink. He spoke of the sea, of the days spent battling the waves & nights spent staring at the stars. “The sea is like life,” he told me. “Unpredictable, but full of treasures if you know where to look.” His words have stayed with me ever since. And then, there was a tiny village in Maharashtra, where an elderly woman taught me how to weave with my hands. Her fingers, wrinkled & worn from years of work, moved deftly across the loom. She spoke little, but her eyes sparkled with a quiet wisdom. In her, I saw a life lived with intention & purpose. I learned that travel isn’t just about seeing new places - it’s about learning from the people who call those places home.

You know what makes this country truly special for wanderers like me? It’s the feeling of being embraced by a thousand arms – whether it’s a stranger offering you a ride in the back of a truck or an elderly woman sharing a home - cooked meal in a remote village. It’s funny how, in a country as vast as ours, a simple “Namaste” opens doors to endless stories. I remember one journey in particular, from Mumbai to the southern tip of Kanyakumari. The train was crowded, as always & the air was thick with the scent of chai, samosas & people. I shared my berth with a family from Andhra Pradesh, a solo traveler from Madhya Pradesh & an elderly couple from Tamil Nadu. For hours, we shared food, stories & silence. As the train rumbled southward, I realised that in India, no journey is ever solitary. Even when you’re alone, you’re surrounded by the collective experience of everyone on that train.

Do you remember that time when a broken-down bus left me stranded in the middle of nowhere in Tamil Nadu. With no other options, I started walking along the road, hoping to find some form of transportation. Instead, I stumbled upon a small temple dedicated to an obscure local deity. The temple was empty, save for an old priest who welcomed me with a warm smile. We sat together for hours, sharing stories & coffee as the world outside seemed to fade away. Or like that one time I missed my train for Mumbai & ended up spending the night talking to an elderly couple at the station who regaled me with stories of their travels from decades ago. Or the time I got lost in the narrow streets of Karnataka & stumbled upon a hidden artisan market where I found the most beautiful handcrafted jewelry. I’ve learned to embrace the unexpected. Some of the most memorable experiences I’ve had were born out of unplanned detours.

One of the greatest gifts you’ve given me, is the ability to slow down. In a world obsessed with speed, you’ve taught me to appreciate the beauty of stillness. There is something meditative about the simple act of walking, of letting your feet carry you wherever they please, without the pressure of getting somewhere fast. You’ve taught me to trust my instincts, to embrace the unpredictable. And India, well, it has its own brand of unpredictability. The weather shifts on a whim, trains run on their own time (if they run at all) & Google Maps will often lead me astray. But in these moments of uncertainty, I’ve found clarity. The magic of travel lies in letting go of control. There is a deep comfort in knowing that, no matter what happens, I will always find my way. You’ve also taught me humility. It’s easy to get caught up in the idea of being a “traveler,” but you’ve reminded me that I’m just a small part of a much bigger world. Every place I visit, every person I meet, they all have their own stories, their own journeys & their own dreams.

How could I talk about you, travel, without mentioning the food? If there’s one thing that binds this nation together, it’s the food. Oh, travel, how you’ve turned me into a food lover—a seeker of spices, flavors & culinary traditions. Every journey, every stop, is marked by the food I’ve tasted. And in India, the diversity of food is as vast as its geography. I remember the first time I had poha jalebi for breakfast in Indore. It was a strange combination to my outsider’s mind—soft, lemony poha paired with the sugary crunch of jalebi. But, as I took my first bite, I understood why it was a local favorite. That’s the beauty of travel, isn’t it? You challenge what I think I know, & then surprise me with something so simple, yet so profound. I remember sitting in a small dhaba on the road to Joshimath, eating piping hot parathas with homemade pickle, watching the mountains bathed in the morning sun. Or that one time in the south, I enjoyed fresh dosas and coconut chutney every morning, paired with the strong, sweet aroma of filter coffee or that time when I was treated to a traditional thali, with over ten different dishes, each bursting with flavor in Gujarat. From the smoky, grilled aromas of Rajasthan’s tandoors to the coconut-infused curries of Kerala, each meal has been a journey in itself. And, of course, there’s chai—a constant companion on every road trip, at every sunrise & during every break between adventures. The humble tea stall by the roadside has often been where some of the most meaningful conversations with fellow travelers and locals have happened. 

But travel, let’s not romanticize this journey entirely. As a woman in India, especially one who travels, the road has not always been easy. You’ve tested me. You’ve shown me the dark side of the road. There have been moments of fear, of doubt, of loneliness. I’ve had to be cautious, constantly aware of my surroundings. I’ve faced questions, judgment & even hostility at times. But through it all, you’ve shown me how to navigate these challenges with grace & courage. There’s a certain kind of strength that comes from being a woman on the move, from knowing that you are capable of handling whatever comes your way. And while the world may still have its prejudices, you, dear travel, have shown me that for every person who doubts my journey, there are ten others who cheer me on. Because for every moment of uncertainty, there’s been a moment of kindness—a stranger offering help, a woman sharing her story, a family inviting me into their home. These experiences taught me that travelling as a woman, is a balance between vigilance & openness. You have to be aware of your surroundings, but you also have to be willing to trust—because the beauty lies in its people, in the connections you make along the way.

As I sit here, writing this letter to you, I wonder what the future holds for us. Will I continue to wander, or will I eventually settle down? Will I ever grow tired of the constant motion, or will I always crave the thrill of the next adventure? I don’t have the answers & I’m okay with that. What I do know is that you will always be a part of my life, in some form or another. On this World Tourism Day, I want to celebrate not just the places I’ve been, but the person I’ve become because of you. You’ve shown me that travel isn’t about ticking places off a list, it’s about growth, connection & learning. It’s about being open to new experiences, even when they scare you. It’s about trusting that the road will always lead you where you’re meant to go.

To anyone reading this letter, if you’ve ever felt the itch to wander, to leave behind the familiar & embrace the unknown, I encourage you to answer the call. Trust the road & let travel guide you. You don’t need a perfect plan, just an open heart & a willingness to embrace whatever comes your way. Because in the end, it’s not the destinations that matter, but the journey itself. Travel will teach you more about yourself than you ever thought possible. It will show you the beauty of independence, the joy of solitude & the power of connection. It will remind you that you are capable, brave & worthy of all the adventures that life has to offer. So pack your bags, lace up your shoes & set out on your journey. The world is waiting for you.

So here’s to more sunrises seen from train windows, more meals shared with strangers & more stories written in the dust of forgotten roads. Here’s to you, travel & the endless adventure you offer.

With love,

Nomadic Chaiwali