I am Murphy’s Law

 They call me jinx at work. Anything that can go wrong with my travels, we are all sure it will.

Here’s the backdrop of my travel mishaps: I started working for Travel + Leisure seven months ago (officially), and a lot of travel assignments came my way. And one after the other, they kept getting cancelled for a variety of reasons that I’d rather not say. So after a string of heartbreaks, I finally flew out for my big international trip with a photographer and everyone thought that the jinx was broken. If only it were that easy.

Johannesburg is known for its crime—we were warned. I wasn’t worried though. I was travelling with a photographer who was anxious enough for both of us. This may be the reason that he didn’t let the gentleman at the airport help him with our luggage trolley. The gentleman, who we thought was a porter, showed us the way to the domestic airport and we hurried to catch our next flight. To thank him, we turned around and bam! Our nice gentleman was being handcuffed by the cops. So close.

Instance two: A day before I was supposed to leave for Switzerland, Jatts decided to protest in Rohtak. Gradually, it progressed to Gurgaon and our office declared a holiday. Amidst cheers and woohoos, my reaction didn’t go unnoticed, “Nooooo!!!” I had to take cash advance for the trip that day but I couldn't. Something had to happen, however small.  

Almost a year after the devastating earthquake, Nepal was still kneeling when I visited the country last month. To say that their domestic airport doesn’t compare to ours will be an understatement. It’s more like a house, an old one that you see in Chandani Chowk, with two counters. That’s not the point here though. We went to Chitwan National Park, and the airport there is smaller than the domestic one in Kathmandu, if that’s possible. The plane is just a wee bit bigger than what kids play with, and when it flew, it swayed. But that wasn’t the problem either. The problem was that it came four hours later and I missed my next flight, to home. Mishap number three.

I won’t explain my very recent trip to Egypt more than this: I lost my luggage; we had unfortunate encounters with cops; I got terribly sick and had to take an injection. Four, five, and six.

No, my jinx isn’t broken. It follows me everywhere and strikes when I’m not looking. But here’s the good part: I bring back home incredible stories.