20 March 2025
I woke up with a blinding headache this morning. I’m not entirely sure what caused it—perhaps too much sun during yesterday’s walk through the city. I reached for my electrolytes, hopeful that some rest and hydration would set me right again.
My two roommates, sweet girls from Denmark and Sweden, were already up and heading out to explore more of the Blue City. I’d considered visiting the Mandore Gardens today, but my body had other plans. The headache was persistent, and my energy was nowhere to be found, so I stayed in.
The hostel felt much quieter than before. After Holi, most of the travelers have moved on to newer, flashier destinations. Only a few of us remain, tucked into corners of recovery, reflection, or transition.
With my mind too foggy to write and my body begging for stillness, I declared it a “Netflix and chill” day. I ordered snacks through Blinkit—a shopping app we’ve all become hopelessly addicted to. How they manage to receive, pack, and deliver an order in under ten minutes is still a mystery to me, but I’m not complaining. Blinkit delivered (again), and I was soon curled up under my blankets, coconut water and salty chips at my side, ready for a day of indulgent nothingness.
I’ve been eating very little the past few days. My body feels like it’s asking for a break, maybe even a light detox or fast. But today, all I wanted was comfort food—something salty, crunchy, and familiar.
By afternoon, the headache finally faded, but in its place came waves of pain—flu-like stabs radiating through my joints and muscles. It wasn’t your typical cold or flu, and there were no other symptoms. Just aching everywhere. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but decided to be cautious and ordered a spicy herbal flu mix to sip with hot water. Blinkit, my savior of the day, came through once again.
By evening, my roommate Emma wasn’t feeling well either. It seems something might be going around—an invisible little virus floating through shared spaces.
So tonight, it’s early to bed, wrapped in layers, hoping tomorrow brings clarity, strength, and a renewed sense of vitality. Sometimes, the only thing to do is surrender to rest.
