CAUGHT IN SHUFFLE

An emotional cocktail, a bunch of strangers, and a dangerously narrow trail—how one spontaneous decision helped me meet a version of myself I didn’t know existed.

You know how strong emotions sometimes push you to do something unexpected? That’s exactly how I ended up on my first-ever solo trekking trip. Throw in a bunch of random strangers, and you’ve got yourself an unforgettable cocktail of chaos and growth.

They say alcohol gives you liquid courage—I think emotions do the same thing. I wasn’t trying to make some deep statement or run away from anything. I just needed to do something—fun, impulsive, maybe even a little wild. Something that reminded me I was alive.

Now let me be clear: I wasn’t having second thoughts. I was genuinely excited. Yes, there were nerves—it was my first solo adventure—but the idea of backing out never crossed my mind. What I do want to say is this: I completely understand those who feel that urge to cancel last minute. That sinking feeling in your stomach, the anxiety-fueled overthinking before taking a new step. But sometimes, choosing that uncertain path leads you to the most incredible places—not just physically, but emotionally too.

And sometimes—it doesn’t.

Sometimes things go absolutely down the drain. Plans fall apart. Expectations crash. Anxiety spirals. Everything feels overwhelming. But even then, there’s something to gain. The mess teaches you more than the perfect path ever could. It teaches you resilience. Self-trust. Perspective. And most importantly, it proves that even in chaos, you survived.

I chose the Gokarna Beach Trek—not randomly. I was driven by emotions, not foolishness. I picked a beginner-friendly trail because I knew I wasn’t exactly the athletic type. Years ago, a trek with my siblings had me swearing off hiking forever, so I didn’t expect much from myself this time either.

But something shifted.

I remember the night I left. My dad dropped me off at the bus stand and said, “It takes a lot of courage to do what you’re doing.” I just smiled and shrugged. Back then, it didn’t feel like a big deal. I thought anyone could do what I was doing. I was too caught up in the rush of emotions to understand the weight of his words.

Looking back now, years later, I get it.

He saw something I didn’t.

There was one moment on the trek I’ll never forget.

We were hiking along a narrow cliffside trail—so narrow you could only place one foot at a time. On one side, the hill rose sharply above us. On the other, a steep drop fell all the way down to the rocky beach. The wind hit my face, sharp and salty, and far below, the waves crashed against the rocks. One misstep, and… let’s just say it wouldn’t have ended well.

I remember looking down and thinking,

What the hell am I doing here?

This is insane.

This is so not me.

And yet—it was me.

Terrified and thrilled at the same time. Hating it and loving it all at once. A small, wild part of me couldn’t believe I had put myself in that situation—but another part of me was proud I stayed. Because in that moment, something clicked.

I can do hard things.

Gokarna gave me something I didn’t even know I was searching for—confidence. Not the loud, showy kind. The quiet, inner kind. The kind that comes from doing something difficult and knowing, deep down, that you did it.

You don’t always need a burst of emotion to start an adventure. You can plan it. You can prepare. And then maybe—just maybe—you leave a little space for the unexpected. For magic. For madness. For meeting strangers who become companions, for trails that test you, and for views that leave you speechless.

So if you’re reading this and waiting for a sign—this is it.

Take the step.

Whether it’s amazing or messy or somewhere in between—you’ve got this.

Author’s Note:

I didn’t start this journey thinking it would change me. I just took a step. Sometimes, that’s all it takes for everything else to follow.