Confessions of a Single, Female Backpacker – Part One

My destination is not a place. My destination is to arrive at a new way to look at life. 

The essence of travel, really, is to impart a new perspective that changes the prism through which one beholds life.  In absence of such transformations, travel is about as meaningful as a brainless Bollywood flick.It has only been days into my first journey as a lone traveler in a strange city, devoid of any friends,family or itinerary. But the richness of even these couple of days has added years worth of perspectives. More on them later. This post however is recount of the hilariousness of being a lone wanderer – explorer and more so a girl at that.

 You are soaking in the novel and unique smells, sights and sounds - when you realise that you yourself are one of these.Camera hanging by your neck, guide book and maps in hand and those eyes wide open are a dead give away. Jaws drop a couple of inches, realisation dawns and a hundred buzzing questions in someone else’s brain are transmitted at crystal clarity to your own cognizant bemusement. Our country still has miles to go when it comes to women travelling and sight seeing alone. No, they don’t think you belong at home in the kitchen and bare foot.

They just think a girl sightseeing alone is a wondrous creation of God … much like a hybrid cow that’s lactating lassi instead of milk. In the past two days I have gathered enough material on the potential hilarity of the above, very real reaction to me sightseeing in Kolkata. On the plus side, men and women both are generous with their directions when I ask for them. Why, they even give me a few bonus, solicitous tips that make me feel like a cuddly bunny on the loose. More than willing to walk through the city, I am told to catch a cab or a bus to cover every single kilometre. 

Hire a guide, hire a car, wear a hat in this awful May sun so I don't go from gori to kaali.

And where are my parents /brother/husband ???

Take for example these two adorable little boys I met at the sublimely beautiful Victoriaa Memorial.

They asked me for directions to a place in Bengali. I asked them if they were lost  out of well meaning concern. They raised their noses high and said they were sightseeing – alone. Without parental supervision. 

And had come all the way from Bangalore.

The latter was said with an attitude implying that I marvel at this boyish, dare-devilry of two pre-pubescent men. I told them I was sightseeing alone too and had come from Mumbai. Their facial expressions quickly rearranged themselves with confusion, disbelief and then amazement.

Did Didi ( elder sister) come in a train ?

 Where are uncle and aunty ? Why is Didi wandering alone ?

And this one took the cake.

Had I run from home to escape marriage to a bore ?

Apparently one of their cousins did  just that – the ONLY girl they knew who had taken off travelling alone.

 Ever.