You can't mold gold by doing nothing!

traveled alone out of my state to take an exam

Every month, I used to travel about 60 kilometers to my relatives' place to give my online exams. It became a regular routine—easy and predictable. But after several trips, I decided it was time for a change. This time, I picked Delhi as my destination, a city around 300 kilometers away. It was my first time traveling solo, and I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The bus ride was full of new experiences—I watched the scenery shift from crowded buildings to vast open fields, like switching from portrait to widescreen mode. I grabbed a burger during the journey and had an awkward moment when I accidentally walked into the wrong restroom (blame the high signboard and my urgency!).

I saw homes made of bricks without plaster, and I couldn’t help but wonder how people managed through winters and rains. Seeing someone asleep in one of those homes made me reflect on life’s challenges. The bus stopped for a long train to pass, and I took in the sights—people laughing, chatting, and some beautiful faces hopping on and off. What started as a simple trip for an exam became an eye-opening experience.

Baaki ka abhi thodi der mein likhta hu!

Toh…..

The bus stopped at Garh Mukteshwar for lunch, and I grabbed a roadside sasta burger. It tasted decent, but instead of putting ketchup inside the burger like a normal person, I smeared it on top of the bun. The result? A messy eating experience, leaving me with a bright red kid wali mustache. Somehow, I managed to lick it all off, trying not to look like a total disaster.

I called my aunt to confirm the address and got the sector number. Thankfully, many passengers were getting off at the same spot. To be sure, I asked one of them who was preparing to leave the bus, and they confirmed it. The area was buzzing with people, autos, and their autowallas. After navigating through the chaos, I found an auto heading to my destination.

The auto was packed, as usual. Two passengers sat on either side of the autowalla, and I was one of them, squeezed onto the left side. Balancing in that tiny space was a challenge—I couldn’t find anything to hold onto, so I pressed my hand against the roof. When that didn’t help, I reluctantly wrapped one arm around the autowalla. Behind me sat a young college lady wearing a mask (just adding for context, no story here!).

Instead of taking the main highway or expressway (whatever it was), the autowalla decided to take us through an underpass or a lower road. It was a bumpy and crowded ride, but I was already getting used to the chaos of the day.

Aur hai abhi, likhta hu thodi der mai!!