India, Dec. 8 -- The year was ending and my privilege leaves were about to lapse, so I decided to escape the routine with a solo trip. This time, I chose South India of which I'd only read and heard. I began my travel diaries with Bengaluru, the Silicon Valley of India, and then headed to coastal Karnataka. On Day 1, I visited Bengaluru Palace with its Greek influence in the paintings and architecture. Next, I stopped at the only Indian Institute of Cartoonists that opened my world to the golden age of cartoons right after Independence, when journalism came alive through funny yet fierce sketches by RK Laxman, Abu Abraham, and Satyajit Ray. After navigating Bengaluru's traffic and enjoying its pleasant weather, I boarded the train to Mysuru, a romantic city with hop-on buses, pink chariots, and a palace that glitters on weekends. The city felt oddly similar to Chandigarh: Planned, aesthetic, serene. From there, I took an overnight journey to Udupi. Since the main road to Malpe Beach was closed due to Prime Minister Narendra Modi's visit on November 28, I had to take a longer route. For the first time, I saw the sea. I sat on the beach for hours, building sand houses and watching the waves. Letting the water touch my feet felt healing in a way I didn't expect. From Udupi, I headed to Saligrama, where I kayaked through the mangrove forest. The tangled roots rising above the water, the thick green cover, the birds calling from hidden branches, all of it made me forget every worry. The sunlight glistening on the water, surrounded by lush mangroves, reminded me of the Pirates of the Caribbean and every adventure movie I'd loved. Next, I moved to Murdeshwar, a small seaside town with a massive Shiva statue and a towering gopuram. My aim was scuba diving at Netrani Island. The best part of being underwater is the sound, or rather, the quiet. Everything fades except what you see. At Gokarna, I met a bunch of solo travellers - Darshini, Ravi, Bharti, Shafeek, Ahmed, and Dixit. Little did I know that they'd become my support system in 20 hours. The next day was pure joy: Jumping into the sea, gulping salt water by mistake, playing volleyball, failing at snorkelling, swimming, dancing to Kannada and Bollywood music on the boat, and laughing so hard that I forgot I'd ever been depressed. But our happiness was short-lived. On our way back, Shafeek and I met with an accident. The moment our scooty skidded, everything went silent. I didn't open my eyes; I only heard Bharti's worried voice. I didn't know where Shafeek was. They rushed me to hospital, and all I kept asking was, "Where is he?" Thankfully, he had only injured a knee. I had injuries on the right side of my face, arm, and leg. The only medical help in Gokarna was a primary health centre with first aid. Since I couldn't see properly from the right eye, Shafeek and Ahmed handled everything, taking me to Kumta for tests, consulting another doctor, buying medicines, fruits, food, while I just lay there thinking: What now? I had to extend my stay in Gokarna and rested in the bunk bed, while the others went exploring. In the evening, I accompanied Darshini and Bharti to the beach. Sitting at a cafe by the shore, I savoured the view, knowing it was my last one before returning to my no-sea land. I even pushed myself to sing karaoke. It felt funny to be wrapped in bandages, limping, singing off-key, yet smiling. The trip had its hard moments, but more than anything, it was the thought that I wouldn't get this chance again that pushed me to embrace everything. The sheer support I received from strangers-turned-friends in Karnataka made me genuinely grateful for everything that came my way....