Guest Post – Pujya Priyadarshni, travel writer

When it had struck, I couldn’t believe it. And then I was simply numb. As parents, family and friends prepared for a complete breakdown, they ensured that I wasn’t alone and always had someone to talk to. But days past, with no outburst. I felt less and less the need or urge to talk to people. My mind was occupied 24×7 as I conversed with it incessantly. It became a part of my bearing and existence; both mental and physical. I would ruminate over mistakes, both real and imaginary, wondering which action could have changed the fate. But the finality of the failure was slowly sinking in. But I still couldn’t believe that this had happened to me. Why me?

Watching me drift into this solemn, solitary existence, my mother suggested we take a trip. Travel, I thought, was for the good times…