When solo wasn’t solo

 That Idli dipped in sambar stared at me continuously at that non -descript restaurant near the Mysore bus stand. Whenever the spoon touched its uneven but soft surface, it would command me to eat, like my mom when I would be in disagreement with her. But I would just fiddle. Nervous for my first solo trip to Coorg, I must have eaten 10 percent of that Dip idli which had long ago given up on me, like my mom. 

 With my two friends here at the last stop to raise my spirit, I finally boarded the state bus, choosing a seat near the window. I am not sure if the parting hug from my friend calmed my nerves, but the sound of the engine, did turn on a switch inside me which commanded me to take charge. And I did just like I have been doing for the last 8 years. As the wheels of the red and beige bus headed out of the bus stand, the confident, independent and go-getter woman inside me took charge, quite organically to my surprise. I realised the basic tenet to setting a goal, planning and then reaching out is quite similar and I was not new to the process.

Plugging my ears with earphone and monitering the route on Google maps, I watched the bus move towards the location. At times my mind pretended to know the route like Calcutta’s and at times the loss of network alerted the 30 something me exploring South India’s unfamiliar terrain. 


Reaching the bus stop and heading to the Zostel is another story marked by vanishing network, hazel eyed auto wala and the region that doesn’t speak Hindi. 


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