When Travel Starts with Begging

I love to travel. But lately, it feels like the hardest part is not the flight.It is the visa.

It starts innocently enough: an exciting invitation, a conference abroad, a long-awaited family visit, or simply the pull of a destination you have dreamed of for years. Then the reality sets in: the visa application process.

First, the fees. You pay a substantial amount before you even know if your application will be approved. Then comes the paperwork, a ritual that demands you strip your life bare for scrutiny. Bank statements. Marriage certificate. Employer’s letter. Sometimes even property deeds or proof of children. OmG! Why? 

It often feels like begging for permission to visit someone’s home, except the “home” in this case is an entire country. The process makes you feel small, like your intentions are under suspicion before you have even booked your flight.

I have sat at my desk several times gathering documents that reveal more about my life than I would ever tell a close friend. I have explained, in black and white, why I want to spend a few days in another country, while knowing full well that the person processing my file may never even glance at the heartfelt reason.

And here is the irony: in an age where we can book a hotel room in thirty seconds, send money across continents in minutes, and verify our identities online in seconds, we still cannot have a centralized international platform to store travel credentials. A secure, once-and-for-all digital “passport” that holds your key details, ready for any trip. Instead, we are made to re-live the same exhausting process for every journey.

Sometimes the process is so demoralising that it dims the joy before the trip even begins. This year, I planned three international flights. I have managed one. Out of nowhere, the love to travel is zero. I have cancelled the other two September and October ones.  Far distant areas. 

The magic of travel is still there somewhere, but the gatekeeping has become too heavy to carry every time. You get tired before you start.

Once I paid double or thrice to travel to Europe for 3 days. Worth? Not sure! I feel like it was too much. Trade-offs.  

I have done this many more times. 

I will always love the world and the wonder of stepping into a new place for the first time. But I also dream of a day when travel starts with a smile, not a checklist; with a welcome, not a demand. Until then, the magic waits, somewhere between my passport and a pile of forms.