The Open Box

What would you like to open?

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The 7 types of travellers and their idiosyncrasies.

Ah, travel! There’s not much else that compares to the feeling of leaving your life behind and going to a place where no one knows you.

The big question you have to ask yourself is if you know what kind of a traveller your companion is.

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The Nervous Newbie: 

The one who keeps looking at the departure board every 14 seconds.

The Eager Beaver: 

The one who’s super excited to go to every touristy spot.

The Braggy Braggerson: 

The one who claims to have been to the place every time a new destination comes up in a conversation.

The Budget planner: 

The one who frowns if you spend ten bucks more than the daily budget. These are the kind that fill their bags with the bread from the breakfast buffet.

The Go with the Flow:

The one who went all the way to Agartala, ‘cos that’s where the trucker was headed.

The Phoren Return: 

The one who’d rather stay constipated than go Indian style.

The Cry Baby:

The one who deviously plans his wailing the moment you plan to fall asleep on the flight. Yes, I meant it literally.

So there you have it. The seven most peculiar kinds of people you’ll come across when you’re out and about. Keep a look out for them. You've been forewarned.

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When in doubt, Travel.

                                           Since when I’ve been old enough to form my opinions and make my own decisions, there’s only ever been two things I wanted to do in my life, travel and play music. But as clichéd as it sounds, life got in the way. The plan was to do it right after college. But after four years of paying for my education, I couldn’t ask my parents to also pay for an extended vacation. So I got a job, worked my hours and followed a typically humdrum life. Don’t get me wrong. I had my fun. The weekend parties, music concerts and even the occasional drinking binge. I even did get to travel a bit, but it was mostly just weekends and boring business trips.

                      For a while there, I was really happy. I was doing good work, I had good friends and life in general was... merry. But, in the back of my mind, there was a small part of me that just wanted to leave it all behind. Go after the dreams I had been harboring for the better part of a decade. I knew I had enough money to put my grand plans in motion. But things didn’t work out. From my overbearing, insecure (and now ex) girlfriend to my parents comparing my decision to “flushing money down the toilet”, I just couldn’t get away. I stuck it out with the job for another 8 years. By then, the afore mentioned girlfriend was now travelling the world with her pilot boyfriend- the irony is not lost on me- and my parents realized I was just too old for them to dictate terms to me. The little voice in my head had now becoming a screaming wail and I knew the time had come to leave it all behind.

                                      As I write this now, it’s been 16 years since I’ve left my job. And I think back to a point where I thought I was happy and smile at the naivety of the kid who thought that was happiness. Right now, I’ve just finished playing a small set for a small crowd in a small village in the small country of Seychelles. I get paid lesser than I used to but more than I need. I’ve travelled 32 countries and never stayed anywhere longer than 8 months. The people I’ve met are friends for life. The cultures I’ve experienced have added something to me as a human. And all of this is just because, I was just ready to take a leap into what essentially was an abyss of the unknown.       

                                                                                                   www.theopenboxindia.com

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What's the Open Box

You’ll know when we’re OPEN :)

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Remember letters?

Letter writing. It’s an art form that is all but dead. The thought that comes to your mind when a postman arrives at your door has drastically changed in the last twenty years. Nowadays, when I see a postman at my door, it’s almost certainly a document. It’s either a solicitation of some kind or my beloved bank reminding me how poor I really am and how much money I still owe them.

There was a time when I was a kid, I would be really excited to see the postman. What mysteries was he carrying in his bag? There was a curiosity to know. Who had written to me? Who was thinking of me? Was it good news or bad news in that small envelope that my Khadi-clad friend was getting to my door? I couldn't wait to rush inside and tear open that envelope. It could be my aunt sending pictures of my 2 year old cousin, or my grandma just checking in and asking me to visit her. There was so many avenues that this one letter could hold.

But nowadays, as the great Mr. B.B King put it, “The thrill is gone.” Don’t get me wrong. I love Facebook, Whatsapp and the ability to call anyone at the push of a button. It’s never been easier to reach out to someone you care about. But there’s something so pure and personal about a letter addressed to you. Knowing that someone actually took time out of their lives to put pen to paper and post it to you, really makes it special. The only time I get a letter now is when my cousins send me a rakhi once a year along with a message they were most likely forced to write by their parents.

So yes, I do plan to go old school and send letters to people close to my heart. Friends and family. I can picture the joy on their faces and the curiosity of who could've possibly written to them. I just hope they don’t chuck it in a bin, thinking it was just another worthless document.