Lonavala Travelogue

By Sumedha Gupta

Hey! I'm out in the town by myself.. yes it's as scary as it doesn't sound, but for someone who's been trained her entire life to believe she couldn't do it.. it's a pretty big day.

8th august 2025

The day i broke free of another chain

Many more to go..

It's just another day in the life of lonavala auto-rickshaw bhaiyas, starbucks baristas, and mapro garden leaves who are waiting for their companions to bloom, but for me it marks something i cannot put in words. But I will try. 

I took a train to Lonavala today. The wrong one. And even the wrong coach on the wrong train. It didn't bother me in the least. I was just waiting for the TT to arrive for me to test my innocent-girl acting skills. Meanwhile I made a friend, Ishaan (eeshu) who shyly spoke his extended name and other things his mother asked him to, but then I tickled him and he smiled so wide and sat by my side. Took my mobile in his hands (meanwhile receiving scolding from his parents to return it) and started clicking photographs of the scenery from the window. And favourite-ed them. By himself. His mom asked why. I said because now I'll remember which ones were clicked by him. Also, i don't think i have more fun selfies with anyone else- he had a monkey face in one. Shy? For a total of five minutes. Did he offer me a goodday biscuit- yes. Relevance of this information? Debatable.

His father handed me my umbrella that I had forgotten inside through the window and asked him to wave goodbye. He waved byebye. Handshake handshake.

Ps. The views from the train were HEAVENLY. Green hills covered in white mist with a magnificent waterfall peaking in the distance. God. I literally had my jaw dropped for a good few minutes, at a stretch. Heavenly.

Taking in the vibe of the city, I roamed around with my huge bag, the most forgettable umbrella, and google maps pulled out on my mobile. Typical tourist. I wondered if people could make that out by the way I looked around. Curious, excited, scared, grim, acting all chill, she's here every other day y'all. 

Went into a hotel to have lunch. It only had men. Men staring, men curious, men talking politics, men gossiping, men waiting tables, one of whom bought me goodday biscuit packet from a nearby shop because i wanted to have them with tea in the memory of shy ishaan. I talked to one over a video call, and texted my location to another. Men. 

Off-radar mode on. Me and myself. Took an auto to my hotel and made a friend in Ramesh auto bhaiya. I thought we were similar in that we were straightforward people. He didn't hike the price for me to bargain. He gave me the standard price and I took it. He helped me get a sense of tourist spots and where I could spend the evening. He said "definitely" at one point which got me curiously asking if he could speak English. "Only little." We exchanged numbers for auto tourism purposes.

It started pouring when he dropped me, and i ran my cute wide footed run into the hotel reception. Checked in, dormitory, cool.

Scared. I didn't know why.

Scared, I arranged my stuff, haphazard movements, heavy chest. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. 

When suddenly I realised, I AM doing it! I am doing it. I'm doing it. I'm doing it WELL. I'm doing it well. 

Went for a hot shower which i couldn't take at the hostel due to the sheer impromptu-ness of the plan. I'd just decided i wanted to go at left in half an hour. All packed. I borrowed an umbrella because I had forgotten mine at a friend's place. (Yes i had left a borrowed umbrella in the train)

I drew a heart on the fogged up mirror, danced for a bit and thought of all the things I could do now that I was on my own. Sumedha with only sumedha. Taking care of her and everything else. And yet, against everything she believed (and often questioned, feared, guilted herself upon) she was doing it as easily as one breathes. It came so naturally to her, that she questioned her doubt in the first place. Maybe she always knew she could, she just had to prove it to the world. And herself. Mostly herself.

I tried on the lipgloss after long, and boy did that look hot. Climbed down happily, asked for directions, walked out- realised I had forgotten my umbrella upstairs. Surprise surprise. Ran my cute run back upstairs. I'm surprisingly very okay with the fact that I forget it everywhere. I find it cute, even. Should I? Maybe not? Maybe yes? Who cares? 

After forgetting it one more time at the reception, I took an auto to 'mapro garden'. Auto bhaiya gave me a high price, didn't budge. I bargained, he got upset. "Aap to naraz ho gaye bhaiya" I said while getting in. We talked through the ride and he gave me a special discount once I got out to pay. I smiled. Made another friend, Prashant auto bhaiya.

Mapro garden, honestly, was underwhelming. It was a. small b. uneventful c. i don't think there was even a point of making it a tourist spot had it not been for the huge mapro brand shop and that fancy cafe. There was a little curved lake covered with circular leaves. No sign of any lotus. Not even buds. I wondered if the leaves felt alone without their companions. The ones everyone photographed. Stopped to admire. Came to mapro garden for and rejected relevance of the place without. Companions.

After a few cinematic tree, cafe, children jumping on trampoline in the backdrop of a 'throw this here and win a soft toy’-type shop shots, I took another auto to a local cafe to reclaim my evening. 

The evening resisted. That cafe was in such a secluded place that even the auto bhaiya, Ravi, had never heard of it. We crossed silent streets and abandoned railway tracks when I asked him to turn around and just get me to any cafe. He knew about Starbucks. And also that I would get an auto back from there easily. That if i got too late, the prices might get hiked. That if i wanted, he could send for an auto to show me around tomorrow, whose driver, he would take care, would not hurry me and would let me click photographs for as long as i wanted. When I got off at Starbucks, he offered me a special discount and I had another friend- Ravi auto bhaiya. Auto bhaiyas here are too sweet.

I took a corner seat, overlooking the road. Only men were there. A man behind the counter and another sitting across the room. The former helped me with a discount, a Starbucks card and announced my name out loud when my coffee was ready. "So cute", I looked at the heart design he'd made over the foam. Even when he approached me to ask about where I was from, what I was doing in Lonavala, and for how long I would stay, I had not considered any ulterior motive until much later.

The auto bhaiya from the short ride back to my hotel- remained a stranger. 

I continued to journal in my bed, wishing my dormmate would respect sound boundaries and listen to reels through earphones. I decided to have a chat, which was followed immediately by regret. 

Between her convincing me to accompany her on a trek which i had already been to, and me trying to uncover the story behind the first solo trip of that 33 year old woman, i had to repeatedly reject her pushy offers and bring her back to my topic, which didn't seem to interest her as much as the prospect of sharing auto fares.

"I'm sorry, I'm out" wasn't enough resistance to her intrusive thoughts of repeatedly calling me at midnight to confirm about my plans. 

What was I doing outside my room at midnight? Good question.

What started with the need to avoid my dormmate at all costs, ended in a night of deep conversations with a stranger, Dhruv.

He asked me if I'd like to join them for UNO, and i agreeably did, after finishing my dinner. 

We got very competitive very fast, waiting for chances to specifically torment one another with draw 4s, reversing and re-reversing playing orders, gaining pleasure with the other's demise. He won. Proudly. The game, for me, was fun no more. He took my cards and finished it for me. He won again. And also in 2v1 fussball, repeatedly. 

The charged banter between us told me we would be having a conversation when the game got over. And we did, when he called me outside for a smoke. I denied, then agreed. 

Not getting into the details, but we talked about everything from why we were who we were, what made us, what broke us to what scared us most, which for him was the fear of losing people, and for me the fear of being left by people. I don't know how different our fears are, if at all. None of us would have ended the conversation in order to sleep, so we decided to wait out the night, and our progressively widening yawns, to see the sunrise at tiger point. 

He wanted me to wait in his room, else he would have slept and wouldn't have woken up. I wanted to rest in my room. I think the reason is obvious. I had to say I needed space, to which he blurted "go take your space" and barged inside. I slept, hurt, abandoning sunrise plans and the ideal image of him.

I didn't know he had waited. I thought he'd have slept, as he had claimed. I said sorry after. He did too.

I woke up at 8.30, tired. Slept again, woke up at 10.30 again, less tired. Then I had a comforting thought- as I was all by myself, I could start with a slow morning! Get ready leisurely, go to the German Bakery for breakfast and then call the auto bhaiyas for a ride. I did exactly that. 

I had forgotten my morning meds at home, had to search 10s of pharmacies with no luck. I bought my thyronorm, something better than nothing, and continued with my day. I was feeling low. Three reasons- I had puked my meds last night, I had no morning meds, and the fact that I had made a mistake. 

I asked myself, what would that version of me who was driven towards her goals and also took care of herself, tell her? And the answer was- it's okay, take care next time. That's it. I was shocked at the lack of punishment in that sentence. I only had to take care next time- i would already have made sure of that!

I said to myself- I'm going to go do one of the things that i love most- being in the mountains and that would make me feel only better. And was I right. The first spot I got off at, I felt at home. I belonged- in the greenery, in the ripples, in the different heighted trees, in the fences and in the dams. I was home. Finally.

I took it all in through my eyes, and continued to the next spot in the auto, making sure to eat as much air as I could through the side window.

It tasted like childhood, like foolishness, like carefree-ness, like freedom. Freedom from the chains in which I was bound. The world's opinion, mannerisms, adulthoodness.

I went on a solo trip to Lonavala at 22 and ate air through the auto window. 

Sounds good.

Bhushi dam was next, crowded, commercialised to its capacity, with little to no nature left. I didn't enjoy it there, just ticked it off my list.

However, near that crowded tourist spot was a secluded hill, where only a few picnicked. I saw it from afar, and felt a certain calling. I can't explain it, but a particular spot on that hill called me. And I went. I trekked my way to that very spot and sat there. 

I don't have words to write about the feeling.

I'm serious.

Peace- it's all that's coming to me. That spot was the place where my inner child and I would come to feel all the emotions- good and bad. Especially bad. Ugly. Negative. Inhuman. Disgraceful. Shameful. 

Everything. 

All emotions were lovingly welcome there.

Come, sit- the place said to those emotions. Tell me about yourself, let me see you. Let me love you. 

I promised the hill I saw from there, that I would do whatever I wanted. I would start making decisions by myself. Not compulsarily caring about everyone else's opinion. I would do what I wanted to. I would listen to no one else. I would only do what I wanted to. I will not listen to anyone else. I will do whatever I want to do. I will not listen. I will not. I will do, I promise. 

And I promised to come back to that spot again, and when I did, I would climb to the top of that hill. I've left that for the next time, so that there is a next time. Something undone. Pending. 

I plucked a purple flower from there and preserved it in my purple plastic mobile-cover as a souvenir and a reminder. I also set my homepage wallpaper as the hill I made the promise to. I will do whatever the fuck i want to do. Periodt. I'm done listening to others. Obeying others. 

Bidding farewell to the spot and all the scenery from it, I climbed down, diverting my way to avoid a peeing uncle, and continued to tiger point, where I saw what heaven looked like. 

After clicking monkeys and children playing with bubbles, I looked towards the hills that surrounded me. And the one on my left called me. And I went. That is where I saw something which made me question- how will heaven be able to look better than this, if at all.

That was when someone asked me to click their photo. That's how I met devakar bhaiya, a god sent human gem. I clicked his photographs and he clicked mine. Then we crossed the railing through a space in the bottom, and there- the western ghats- looked us back in the eyes, with all their beauty, with all their majesty. Mesmerized. 

We couldn't stop looking. Not that we wanted to stop. 

We both marvelled at the beauty, the mist, and how it covered the ghats in a translucent white sheet. How there was peace in looking at them. No matter the noise from the crowd around, there was peace. Just by turning to look at that sight. There was stillness. There was hope. There was magic. It cannot be explained. It can only be felt.

Devakar bhaiya, whenever he saw a good spot, asked for my phone to click my photos. And rejected when I offered him the same. We sat at dangerous spots and stones at the edges, and he said "it feels like we're sitting at the edge of the world." And he was right, because it was unworldly. 

After exploring the entire length of that edge, and pointing out faraway waterfalls, villages, and a train with its light shining through the fog in the distance, we took a selfie. 

I asked for his phone number, and added his contact: devakar tiger point lonavala.

Edit- devakar bhaiya tiger point lonavala

He saw me edit. "We've met on rakshabandhan," he said. "Yes bhaiya", I smiled.

I asked him for my umbrella that I had kept in his bag to prevent losing it, and we parted ways. 

I was sitting idly in the auto, eating air whenever I felt like it, when Sajay auto bhaiya reminded me of the ceramics market which he had promised to stop by on our way back. I bought everything I wanted for myself, and more so for others. Matching mugs for my new roomies and myself, more mugs, for gifting, a flower holder and a coaster. All of it was packed in a cardboard box for me so that it doesn't get spoiled on my return journey.

The points we covered after that were not of much significance. It got dark. I was tired, with a full heart. I asked sajay bhaiya to drop me at starbucks so i could have the chance to talk to the staff who might have wanted to ask me out. He wasn't there. Instead there was a beautiful guy with his extended family, who agreed to talk to me for a few minutes when I blushingly poked him. He was beautiful in every way, except in conversation and his instagram profile. I couldn't believe they were the same person. He was not for me. I took his leave. 

I walked back to my hotel, and was infuriated when I saw my bed still covered with someone else's suitcases, and my stuff on the floor, even though the staff had assured me of taking care of it till I came back. In a firm voice and tired body, I asked the administration to fix it. One of them talked to me in a raised voice with no fault of mine. I got more furious, but more than that, scared. I was scared. That someone might scold me. That conflict was impending. There was no evidence to back it, but I was scared. I assured myself that I loved myself even if I didn't do anything about him. Even if i said nothing to him. If I let it go. If I chose peace. And I was calm.

I lied down to rest before going out to socialise.

That's when I met Dhruv again and we exchanged our sorries. That's when I met Ashok. The first person to tell me that I had a literary talent and something that is hard to express for others came naturally to me. And that it was rare. And that I should go forward in that direction. That i should have pursued english literature. That people would read my writings only when I got famous. That it was worth reading. 

He wrote too. Both our pieces came from a place of turmoil. He was happy that his life was going fine for he no longer felt an urge to write. It didn't come from within. I knew exactly what he had meant.

After making me take a personality test and explaining what ENTJ/INTJ meant, discovering that I was converting from T to F and J to P, and discussing about him being an INFJ, he took my leave as his friends were waiting for him, and I continued to the yellow swing. After some osscilating alone-time, I saw people trying to start a bonfire and gathering in a circle. Naturally, I went there. Expecting a mesmerizing bollywood jamming session. It would've been, if that one drunk guy didn't scream every song at the top of his voice and directly into my left ear. I couldn't sing, no one could. I left, and in a while everyone dispersed. 

I joined the group Dhruv was playing cards with. They taught me 'mongoose'. I enjoyed two rounds and sat through the third, tired and sleepy. I said my goodbyes. And dhruv smiled, "aaj jaldi neend aagyi?"

Only after I woke up the next morning, I remembered of wanting to ask him if we could go to see the sunrise at Tiger Point that day. It was already noon. Next time I visit Lonava, I said.

After having an oily paneer roll for breakfast at lola cafe, i walked to coopers to buy preety mam walnut chocolate fudge. It hadn't opened yet. I had 45 minutes to kill. I walked through the streets of Lonavala, went up and down the Lonavala railway station, had coconut water and by the time I came back, it had just opened, already with a queue of customers. 

From there I took an auto to german bakery, and finally tried the 8 layer ganache torte which I had to cancel the previous day due to fullness of stomach. It was yummy, but too much for one person. I had half and asked them to pack the rest. 

With that i headed back to the hotel, kept some of my stuff at the reception to indicate my check-out, went back to my bed, and slept. Completely oblivious to the efforts of my dormmate, anuj, to wake me up by making loud noises, throwing stuff around. He was a fellow solo traveller getting bored and still had an hour to kill when I was finally woken up by the hotel staff. (He had asked them to.)

I took him to the german bakery- for i could not stand the thought of someone visiting lonavala and not checking it out, where we finished my leftover torte, dipping it in cafe mocha which made it even better. He lived in delhi too, and ran a drop-shipping business that he had started from scratch. He told me in detail about his experiences with kasol brownies and how he had acquired them using his local dialect imitation skills. It was his first solo trip too, and after lonavala he was headed to munnar, kerala. He also had to get back to Mumbai first but the bus I had booked my seat in, had no vacancy. So he had to continue with his “bla-bla ride” plan, which is apparently famous in mumbai, leaving me with two and a half hours to myself.

I used them to write- about how sad i was to leave (and I quote-) “Today is the third day of my trip and I am so tired. There's melancholy in the air somehow. The thought of leaving is making me sad. I met such good people here, made new friends, felt a sense of belonging with these people. As Sajay auto bhaiya would've said, "Kabhi kabhi bhagwan log bhej deta hai,” I think that's what happened with me. I wish I could just press pause. Except for the rain. The light 'paus' that has been falling on my hair, my spectacles and my mobile the entire time. It's better than kisses.” 

I also wrote a poem about leaving (I'll attach the most coherent stanza)

“Do i really have to leave

How long can i stare at hosteller yellows for

And park greens and pool blues

Can i sit on the swing for one more time 

Can i climb that hill one more time

Can i go and see the sunrise at tiger point 

Can i do it all again

Can i go back in time”

and shared it with my new hostel roommates. They were proud of me for the solo trip.

At the bus stand, i told my family about my little trip. I asked them to be proud of me. To not guilt me into thinking that I wasn't putting effort into studying. To trust me with my career. To be happy for me. They were, surprisingly. 

The uncle who was supposed to occupy the window seat beside me agreed to give it to me, and I told mom about it over call, looking at him. Uncle smiled.

I wrote on the bus, and when my stop was announced, took down my stuff and nodded uncle goodbye. I wondered how he'd have felt sitting through my handling of family matters over call with my mom and grandmom. He smiled and nodded back goodbye.

At this very moment, I'm sitting in the auto, and for the first time, writing in the present tense. I am a minute away from my hostel and the end of my trip.

Are we ready?

"Yahin pe rok dijiye, bhaiya."

We have reached.

Back in my room. It's exactly as I had left it. The day before yesterday. Feels longer, doesn't it. My bedsheet crumpled at the same spot where I sat while booking my train ticket. Shampoo that I'd forgotten to take sitting on the table, along with the meds I searched tens of pharmacies for. I hope the bread has a day or two of life left for my PB&Js.

Sideward trains of thought:

Today is the third day of my trip and I am so tired. There's melancholy in the air somehow. The thought of leaving is making me sad. I met such good people here, made new friends, felt a sense of belonging with these people, I wish I could just press pause. Except for the rain. The light 'paus' that has been falling on my hair, my spectacles and my mobile the entire time. It's better than kisses. 

Do i really have to leave

How long can i stare at hosteller yellows for

And park greens and pool blues

Can i sit on the swing for one more time 

Can i climb that hill one more time

Can i go and see the sunrise at tiger point 

Can i do it all again

Can i go back in time

I'm missing that staff guy from manipur

He's nowhere to be seen today

And dhruv, he left without even a handshake 

Anuj was so sweet, we shared a cafe mocha and left-over cake

He's from delhi too, we might meet again

Devakar bhaiya might be back in hyderabad by now

His brother should appreciate is photography skills 

I feel it's the subject that lacks in beauty because my pics were just wow

His to be wife would be a lucky lady, he's so pure at heart

He made me his sister for we met on rakshabandhan

The auto bhaiyas

Starbucks staff

Starbucks guy

These are all the memories of people i have for now

And i will keep them dearly and near to my heart

My first solo trip

I have a smile rn

It was seldom solo 

And muchly with new conversations

New people

As auto bhaiya would've said

"Kabhi kabhi bhagwan log bhej deta hai"

I think that's what happened with me

God sent gems

All of em

By Sumedha Gupta