Every morning, Sanjana’s phone greeted her with mountains she had never touched,
beaches she had never walked on, and cafés she had never sat in.
Her Instagram feed was full of people traveling.
“Goa diaries.” “Solo trip.” “Living my dream life.”
She would double tap every picture and
then quietly lock her phone before anyone at home noticed,
she was smiling at something.
Because in her house, traveling was not a “dream.”
It was considered unnecessary.
“Why do girls need to roam around?”
“What’s there outside?”
“Family is enough.”
“Focus on work and future.”
So she did.
She studied well, got a decent job in Hyderabad,
worked six days a week, traveled two hours daily in traffic,
and came home exhausted.
But every night before sleeping, she secretly watched travel vlogs.
Sometimes Ladakh.
Sometimes Kerala.
Sometimes random girls sitting alone near windows in trains,
smiling like life finally belonged to them.
And every single time, Sana whispered to herself.
“One day.”
But that “one day” never came.
Whenever she mentioned trips at home, there was always a problem.
“Who’s going?”
“Why?”
“What will relatives say?”
“Girls from good families don’t travel alone.”
Eventually, she stopped asking.
But the desire never left.
It only became quieter.
Until one Thursday night.
Her manager dumped another deadline on her.
Her head hurt.
Her laptop froze twice.
Her teammate resigned.
Her mother complained she wasn’t helping enough at home.
And somewhere in the middle of all this, Sana suddenly realized,
She was living like a machine.
That night she barely slept.
At 5:12 AM, she woke up, stared at the ceiling for a long moment,
then suddenly sat up.
Something inside her had finally broken.
Or maybe… finally awakened.
She quietly pulled out her old backpack from under the bed.
Two jeans.
Three tops.
Power bank.
Headphones.
Wallet.
Hands shaking, heart racing.
She booked the first bus to Coorg.
Before leaving, she typed a message in the family WhatsApp group.
“I’m safe. I’m taking a break for 3 days. Please don’t call me continuously.
I just need some time for myself.”
She switched off her phone before anyone could reply.
And walked out.
For the first time in twenty-five years… without permission.
The entire bus journey felt unreal.
Sanjana sat near the window like a child seeing the world for the first time.
Morning fog.
Tea stalls.
Tiny villages.
Rain hitting the glass.
Nobody asked where she was going.
Nobody controls her.
She smiled the entire journey.
Actually smiled.
Not the polite office smile.
Not the fake family smile.
A real one.
By afternoon she reached Coorg.
And for the next two days, Sanjana lived.
She woke up late.
Drank coffee while watching the rain.
Went ziplining despite being scared.
Tried local food.
Danced during a random hostel bonfire night with strangers.
At one point she stood alone near a viewpoint surrounded by clouds and realized.
This was the happiest she had ever felt in her life.
Not because the place was magical.
But because for the first time…
She belonged to herself.
On the third day, she joined a small trekking group arranged by the hostel.
Halfway through the trek, while climbing a slippery path,
Sanjana lost balance slightly.
A hand quickly held her wrist.
“Careful.”
She looked up.
A tall guy wearing a black hoodie and glasses smiled at her casually.
“First trek?”
“Is it that obvious?” she laughed.
“Very.”
She rolled her eyes. “Rude.”
“Truthful.”
They walked together after that.
His name was Arvind.
Easy to talk to.
Funny without trying hard.
The kind of person who made silence comfortable.
They spoke about everything.
Travel.
Jobs.
Family pressure.
Dreams people postpone.
Somehow talking to him felt strangely natural.
Too natural.
By evening the group sat near a campfire while rain drizzled lightly outside.
“Honestly,” Sanjana admitted softly,
“this is the first thing I’ve ever done for myself without asking permission.”
Arvind looked at her for a second.
Then smiled gently.
“And you look different because of it.”
“What's the difference?”
“Free.”
Nobody had ever called her that before.
The next morning was checkout day.
Sanjana was packing sadly when someone knocked on her hostel room door.
She opened it.
Arvind stood there holding two coffees.
“One last coffee before reality ruins life again?”
She laughed and let him in.
While talking, his phone suddenly rang.
He picked it up casually.
“Yeah bro, I’ll join Monday’s meeting.
Tell HR I already informed you.”
Sanjana froze.
“Wait… Monday meeting?”
“Yeah?”
“Which company do you work in?”
He mentioned the company name.
Her company name.
Sanjana blinked.
“No way.”
“What?”
She slowly opened her office app and showed him her employee ID.
Arvind stared for two seconds before bursting into laughter.
“You’re kidding.”
“You work in my company?!”
“Apparently.”
“What department?”
When he answered, Sanjana’s jaw dropped even more.
Not only same company.
Same building.
Different floor.
For eight months.
They had probably crossed each other hundreds of times without noticing.
Arvind laughed so hard he almost spilled coffee.
“All this time we meet for the first time 500 kilometers away from office.”
Sanjana shook her head in disbelief.“This is insane.”
“No,” he smiled softly while looking at her,
“I think this trip happened exactly when it needed to.”
For the first time in years, Sanjana didn’t feel scared about going back home.
Because somehow, during those three days,
she had found two things she had been missing for a very long time.
Freedom.
And someone who understood why she needed it.
