Not All Who Wander Are Unemployed!

A decade ago, campus placements felt like life’s final exam. You cracked it if you landed a solid paycheck, a stable 9-to-5, and maybe—just maybe—if you got lucky, a job in a government bank or a PSU. That was the dream, wasn’t it?

Looking back, like any other 20s something, I convinced myself for every pre-placement talks – from NGOs paying peanuts, to MNCs offering fat wages – only to never pass beyond the first two rounds.

Dejected, every single time. But would soon pick up my pieces, fix the puzzle and pretend to move on – I had to get the dream aka ideal job!

I was fortunate – no financial burden, no parents to nag – but the unspoken pressure kept pressing. The pressure to “figure it out.” To succeed. To not be the one who got left behind. And yet… something felt off. Something was missing.

Around this time, when I had a lot of time to kill, I chanced upon the concept of ‘Nomadic Traveling’ – an indulgent slow travel experience where you work, but while traveling. Intrigued by this idea, I couldn’t help but read over and over about it. Following travel bloggers, reading their posts in the dark at night, wondering if I’d ever break free from the corporate grid.

Though I had no prior idea of slow travel, let alone working on the go, this idea somehow struck a chord with me. It lay buried deep inside, as I followed key travel influencers and watched with envy all these many years and got absorbed in the corporate rut.

But covid changed the dynamics – its ugly hands gave me a glimpse into working remotely. Working from home in pyjamas is just one part of it, but the freedom and flexibility it allows – changed a lot within.

Suddenly the thought that was lost deep inside, surfaced. Gradually as the lockdown came to and end and life started getting back to normalcy, I realised that this could be an alternate i.e. middle class cult lifestyle.

My first solo trip to Rajasthan 4 years ago gave me a deep dive into the insecurities and pangs of excitement and panic together. Each moment was unlike the previous. One moment I was struggling to make basic decisions, and the other I was spoilt for choices! But somewhere between those chaotic swings, I found a strange sense of calm. The butterflies felt liberating.

After that, I kept going. More solo trips followed. While others took dips in the pool, I worked from the bunks. I started working from hostel lobbies, cafeterias, zoo cafés, you name it. Yes, it was distracting. But then again, isn’t home distracting too? The difference? At the end of the day, I had something new to look forward to—new sights, smells, people, streets. And honestly? I’ve never felt more productive.

There’s something about working from a balcony in the hills, with bird coo-ing in the background (sorry MS Teams), or drafting a serious mail in a Goan beach shack with salty air brushing your skin. These aren’t distractions—they’re therapy for me. They’re why I can stay sane in a world that glorifies burnout.

Also, I’ve realised in the past few months that travel is just as expensive as you want it to be. You want to take a convenient flight to reach your destination, or an overnight train would mean saving for an additional night – is a choice you have to make. Whether eating out only at exquisite restaurants is an option, or a mix of street food works. And ofcourse there is no right or wrong to this. It’s all about making choices that appeal to you!

Going out for a stroll in the evening at a neighboring park in the evening, witnessing the first rays of sun in India, the bohemian shack life in Goa – are all possible now because I can choose this version of slow, nomadic, budget life.

Today, I live a life that many might not fully understand. My stays are humble, my meals simple, my itinerary loose. But I’m at peace. I’m not waiting for retirement to see the mountains—I’m hiking them now. I’m simply choosing experiences over a flamboyant lifestyle. Its a cautious choice.

There have been multiple occasions where I have come back to my base and worked through the midnight, there have also been instances where I have missed elaborate lunches or few of the major sight seeing spots – but its all been worth it.

I dream of spending a month in the mountains, followed by another by the sea. Right now, that’s still a dream. Work keeps me grounded—but not caged. I’m committed, present, and showing up. But I’m also choosing to listen to my #YOLO whims.

Maybe this phase is temporary. Maybe it’s just a detour. But it’s my detour. And as long as it lasts, I plan to soak in every last bit. The job may not come with a jazzy title or a fat paycheck, but it lets me breathe. It lets me sleep at night. And most importantly, it lets me plan my next slow, nomadic adventure.