Travel Blog - Journey, Stories and Experiences

Have you ever felt that every small decision that you take and every small change that happens around you, that could have happened, either way, can change the outcome of certain events? Have you ever experienced the butterfly effect in real life? I never did until something so coincidental happened to me, it urged me to write a post about it. Last summer I was travelling to Mumbai. I stayed in Zostel (Hostel) in the Andheri area. It had been a long time since I visited Mumbai and met my friends there. Seeing this, my schedule was totally booked. I was in a 6-bed room in the hostel.  I just checked-in, put my stuff in the locker and went out to meet my friends. I returned late in the night around 11 PM or 12 AM maybe. I freshened up and laid on my bed. Like everybody else these days, I turned to my mobile and replied to some messages, scrolled social media a bit for a few minutes and then put the phone aside after my eyes started to hurt. I was tired of all the travel I did that day. I

In the midst of heavy rain, we decided to go ahead with the plan. I took my phone and the power bank with me. Raman took his phone. As we stormed down from the stairs, the rain started getting worse. " Are you sure it's a good idea? ", I asked him with rain dominating over my voice. " Just a matter of minutes and we will be inside the car ", a confident Raman said. " Alright then, let's go ahead with the plan" . READ SIGNS WE IGNORED PART 1 I sat in the back and Raman drove the scooty. There was water everywhere. I was soaked in water in just a few minutes. I tried to hide behind Raman as much as I could, but the weather was so damn bad, I could not escape. I was wondering how my friend was fighting with those thorny little drops. It was around 1.6 km in distance including all the U-Turns and service lane cuts. Finally, we reached our destination. " We have a booking for Tata Bolt ," I said in a slightly louder tone to the

As I landed in the city of Bangalore, a man is shouting just outside the airport. He is shouting something that I do not understand. Fortunately, he has learned 4 5 English words. After all, he is standing outside the airport. “ Where, ” he asks. “ Marathahalli ” I spoke. “ Bus 8 ”. He says one word and starts shouting again. He was a bus driver. But most importantly, a resident of Karnataka state in India. Yes, this place is in my country and we both cannot communicate. Many years back when I was in the eighth standard, my textbooks proudly and boldly highlighted the words, “ India is a diverse country ”. They would show the culture and folk dances of each state. Unique on its own. A moment to feel proud. You can never find a country as diverse as India, as culturally rich as India. That was just the textbook. My practical started almost 2 months ago. Soon when I reached my hotel I realized nobody in the hotel knows Hindi. Yes, Hindi. A language spoken in India.