If you went on vacation but did not post pics on Instagram, did it really happen?

A man lying on grass with mountains in the background clicking a selfie

A few years ago, I went on a college trip to Shimla. As our bus wound its way through the hills, we reached a beautiful spot where the entire valley stretched out below us, like a painted landscape. The view was mesmerizing—crisp mountain air, a gentle breeze, and the sprawling valley that seemed to go on forever. For most of us, who came from the plains, the sight was almost magical. Even the stomach-churning twists and turns on the road and the puking all the way felt worth it for that moment.

I wanted to simply stand there and soak it all in, to just absorb the peaceful beauty of the moment. But before I could truly settle into the experience, I found myself being pulled into a group photo session. Moments later, the quiet calm I craved was replaced by the chaotic clicking of cameras and phones. My collegemates were already posing for selfies and group shots, phones held high, ensuring everyone captured the “perfect” image for their Facebook profiles (Instagram was still new, then).

I was caught off guard. I had expected the stunning scenery to be enough to captivate us all, to offer a chance to fully immerse ourselves in the beauty around us. But for most, the urge to document the experience overtook the desire to simply live it. Being there wasn’t enough; proving we were there seemed to matter more.

This experience stayed with me and has raised important questions ever since about traveling in the age of social media.

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" by Georges Seurat, a pointillist painting from 1884. The scene depicts a park by the River Seine filled with various people relaxing on a sunny day. Men, women, and children are dressed in formal, late 19th-century attire. Some hold umbrellas or wear hats, while others sit or lie on the grass. The pointillist technique is evident in the use of small dots of color to create form and light, giving a sense of calm yet structured elegance. In the background, there are trees, sailboats on the water, and distant buildings. — "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" by Georges Seurat

Travel and Authenticity: Are We Living or Performing?

An interesting question to ask ourselves is: when it’s not for work, why do we really travel? Do we travel because the very act of traveling and seeing unseen worlds stirs something inside us, thrills us, stokes our curiosity, and fills us with joy and peace? Or is traveling just a means for us to get our pictures against a pretty background which we later post on social media to seek validation of strangers?

In other words, is traveling for you an end to itself or a means to an end? Do you live a life true to your values and desires or one just to impress others? Do you actually live authentically or is your life just a performance?

The Third-Class Carriage" by Honoré Daumier, an oil painting portraying a group of working-class passengers in the dim, cramped interior of a train. Painted in a realist style, it highlights the hardship and exhaustion of the individuals. In the foreground, a woman holds a baby in her lap, next to an elderly woman clutching a basket, and a young boy slouches beside her, seemingly asleep. The passengers wear simple, worn clothing, and their expressions are somber and weary, conveying a sense of resignation. The muted color palette and shadowed background evoke a somber, introspective mood. — "The Third-Class Carriage" by Honoré Daumier

Traveling: A Privilege, Not a Virtue

It’s a trend I often notice: some people who travel frequently display a subtle, sometimes even overt, smugness about it. They seem to believe that traveling more somehow elevates them as if it’s a marker of sophistication or superiority. However, this mindset misses a crucial point—frequent traveling is a privilege, one that only a minority can afford.

Frequent travel comes with significant prerequisites, the most fundamental of which is financial stability. Beyond the cost, it requires a job that offers ample leave and weekends off. For many in India, even Saturdays are workdays, and taking time off often isn’t easy. Even in workplaces that offer generous leave, the demands of the job can be so intense that many find themselves unable to use their designated days off without falling behind.

Good health is another, often overlooked, requirement. Travel is far from easy for those with chronic illnesses, and for people with disabilities, it’s an even greater challenge. In a country like India, where accessibility infrastructure is scarce, traveling for those with disabilities often involves significant hurdles and, in many cases, makes travel impractical.

Gender also plays a role in travel accessibility, particularly for women. Safety concerns due to the prevalence of violence against women make solo travel daunting and, at times, dangerous. Women must often consider factors that don’t affect male travelers to the same degree, underscoring how unequal access to travel can be.

Recognizing that travel is a privilege, not a universal right, allows us to appreciate our experiences without feeling superior. Rather than a measure of personal worth, traveling is simply a luxury—one not afforded to everyone.

Traveling is the New Car: Redefining Status and Success in Modern India

Gone are the days when a car in the driveway was the ultimate sign of middle-class success. Now, it’s photos of pristine beaches, bustling European cafes, or exotic cityscapes on social media. These snapshots from international vacations have become the new markers of status, subtly (or not-so-subtly) declaring, “I’ve arrived in life.”

Today, travel isn’t just a break; it’s a statement. It tells the world about one’s social ascent, serving as proof of upward mobility and lifestyle aspirations. International trips, with their curated Instagram moments, reflect more than the joy of exploration — they’re symbols of a new class identity. It’s no longer about what you drive; it’s about where you’ve been.

"Sunset at Montmajour" by Vincent van Gogh, a vibrant landscape painting depicting a sunset over a countryside near Montmajour, France. Painted in 1888, it features a dense foreground of twisting trees and lush, yellow-green vegetation, rendered with Van Gogh's characteristic bold brushstrokes and expressive texture. The sky above is dynamic, filled with swirling clouds and a soft gradient of yellow and blue, capturing the changing light of dusk. In the distant background, a faint silhouette of a hill or structure is visible, adding depth to the composition. The overall mood is lively and rich, evoking the warmth and movement of a summer evening. — "Sunset at Montmajour" by Vincent Van Gogh

How Do We Reclaim Authenticity?

How, then, do we reclaim authenticity in our travels? Perhaps the answer isn't about abstaining from documentation altogether, but rather about mindful engagement. Imagine consciously choosing to put your phone away and savor a breathtaking view without an audience. That deeper, more lasting connection, unquantifiable by likes or comments, is the essence of authentic travel. The next time you travel, ask yourself: What do I truly hope to take away from this experience? The answer might be far more fulfilling than the “perfect” shot.