25 & 26 March 2025
My time in Jodhpur—and in Rajasthan—has come to an end. After a lot of deliberation and what felt like endless searching, I finally found a volunteer exchange opportunity through Worldpackers in Haridwar. It’s about 20km from Rishikesh, and my heart quietly rejoiced. Rishikesh wasn’t originally part of my itinerary, but nothing about this trip has gone to plan, and perhaps that’s exactly how it’s meant to unfold.
India is simply too vast to experience in one journey. There are so many sacred, beautiful places I wanted to visit, but time, energy, and practicality force you to choose only a few. So I’ve let go of seeing everything. I’ve chosen, instead, to honor the pull of the heart—and this time, it brought me north again.
The journey from Jodhpur to Haridwar was nothing short of brutal. I’d booked a 17-hour overnight bus through Redbus, selecting what looked like a decent vehicle—one with working AC and a proper sleeper compartment. When I arrived at the station, however, I was ushered onto a different, grimy, older bus. Before I could process what was happening, we were already pulling away.
Furious doesn’t even begin to describe it.
I’d paid for something better, and there was no warning or apology—just dumped into this old, filthy metal box with no option but to suck it up. I climbed to the top bunk, instantly miserable. The space was too narrow to sit up, and barely wide enough to lie down. The aircon vent blasted stale, semi-cool air directly at my face, and the charging port dangled from its socket—useless.
Fueled by pure Taurus fire, I grabbed my bag and stormed down from the bunk. I wasn’t doing this for 17 hours. I found an empty lower compartment across the aisle with a bit more room, closed the curtain, and tried to breathe. At least this one had a working charging point, and the air could be redirected slightly.
Just as I started to relax, a smiling Indian woman appeared at my window. Before I knew it, her entire family had joined her—two kids giggling from the bunk above, a teenager seated comfortably in my space. Despite the chaos, their kindness softened me. They shared drinks, snacks, and stories, and we laughed together in a mix of broken English and smiles. Turns out, they too had booked the same better bus and were just as disappointed. Misery really does love company.
But my peace didn’t last long. At the next stop, a group of men began yelling at me in Hindi through my window. I was being told to move back to my “assigned” bunk. Anger and survival mode hit hard. They hadn’t expected this girl to fight back, but I did—every ounce of frustration over the last month poured out. After a loud disagreement and what can only be described as a fiery showdown, they finally gave me a compartment I could actually fit in, with a working AC and charging point.
By then, I was shaking. I was done. With India. With the bus. With all of it.
The night dragged on—freezing cold, endlessly bumpy. Thankfully, I’d had my backpack moved up with me, so I was able to dig out a jacket and socks. My travel pillow became my saving grace. No blanket, but a little comfort.
Many hours later, we arrived in Haridwar. I stepped off the bus, and of course, tuk-tuk drivers were immediately in my face. One look at me and they backed off—I must’ve radiated “do not test me.” I ordered a cab and was on my way to Sai Veda Wellness Retreat.
After a shower, a warm meal, and a nap, the world felt lighter again.
The staff gave me a short tour—the therapy rooms, dining area, yoga hall. Then, just before dinner, I was invited to join the family in the yoga hall for an evening of kirtan and dancing. The music, the laughter, the lightness—it all washed over me like a balm.
Already, I feel happier here. The greenery, the cool air, the peaceful energy—it’s everything I needed. No more pale dust and dry shrubbery. Just breath. Just being.
And maybe, finally, a soft landing into the next chapter.
