We often confuse being alone with being lonely. But aloneness is a space of strength — a doorway through which life, or God, invites us to grow. Loneliness is a feeling of lack; aloneness is a presence. It is in these quiet moments that life whispers its deepest lessons.
Here is my new experience from a few days back — an experience that reminded me that we should not disturb another person’s rhythm or routine for our own comfort. When we depend unnecessarily, we interfere not only in their life but also in our own learning. Life pushes us out of our comfort zone because something meaningful is waiting to unfold.
I wanted to send my two-wheeler back to India from Bhutan. The process was simple, but my comfort zone insisted that I ask for help. I involved colleagues, requested support, and tried to make the path easier. But at the final moment, the person who promised to help stopped taking my calls.
At first, it seemed like a problem. But deep within, I felt it was not a mistake — it was God’s intention. Nature was redirecting me toward an experience I needed. I suddenly received a holiday, perfectly timed. It was as if the universe had already arranged the journey.
So, I travelled to Phuentsholing. My bike refused to start, so I pushed it, step by step, across the border. Earlier, people had frightened me with stories of strict checks, heavy questioning, and tight security. But when I reached, no one stopped me. The border simply opened itself. Sometimes, fear belongs only to our imagination; reality is much kinder.
From India side (JAIGAON), I loaded my bike onto an auto and travelled to New Alipurduar railway station. The auto driver was one of the most patient and kind-hearted souls I have met. He supported me the entire time without a single complaint. We travelled up and down more than 140 km in his small auto — a long journey filled with trust, simplicity, and humanity. Even though I forgot to take his mobile number, he will always remain in my heart. Some people appear only for a moment, but they leave a lifelong imprint.
After shipping the bike, I returned to the border with a sense of gratitude.
But life had another lesson waiting.
I had already booked a cab to Thimphu. That day, India’s Prime Minister Modi was visiting Bhutan. Because of the visit, the Bhutan government temporarily restricted entry for Indian work permit holders. My cab driver warned me gently, “You can cross the gate, but at the first checkpoint they will stop you.”
Still, I tried entering. Again, no questions — the gate opened easily. But wisdom echoed in the driver’s words. He advised me to stay for the night. And I felt once again that this too was part of God’s design.
The next morning, the same restriction continued. I contacted my college, got a letter, and even spoke to a police officer. He said the same thing: I could travel only after Modi left Bhutan. So I waited — not impatiently, but with a sense of surrender.
Around 1 PM, the police officer himself messaged me:
“You can go now.”
And just like that, the road opened.
I took the cab and reached Thimphu by evening, around 7:30 PM. The journey, which could have looked like a series of obstacles, became a spiritual reminder.
Life was teaching me:
Don’t disturb others for small comforts.
Don’t run away from your own responsibilities.
Don’t fear the unknown — it is kinder than your imagination.
And most importantly, trust the timing of existence.
Sometimes, walking alone is not loneliness.
It is a sacred invitation — an invitation to meet yourself, to meet life, and to meet the invisible guidance that always walks with you.