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Journalism of Courage
The FlixBus that pulled up at Delhi’s Anand Vihar terminal wasn’t what Pooja Saha, a 31-year-old brand consultant had booked. Instead of her expected ride, a local DTC bus claimed to be a replacement. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed. This wasn’t how her grief journey to Rishikesh was supposed to begin. But something her late brother, cinematographer Pijush Pal, had always wanted her to experience was calling.
“After he passed away, I felt this need to honour his wish. So, I finally did Rishikesh the way he wanted me to,” Saha recalls, in a conversation with indianexpress.com. What started as fulfilling a promise to her brother became something much deeper—a growing phenomenon experts are calling “grief travel”.
As traditional travel makes a strong comeback post-pandemic, another trend is gaining visibility: people turning to journeys not for leisure or wellness, but to navigate and process personal loss. Travel industry professionals are witnessing this shift firsthand.
“I have seen a subtle yet growing trend of people turning to travel as a way of coping with grief or major life transitions,” says Dushyant Bhalla, founder of luxury travel company Aabee’s. “When we lose someone dear, the natural instinct is often to find distraction or create space where healing can begin.”
DK Ghatani of Sikkim Expeditions has observed similar patterns since the pandemic. “We see more guests consciously choosing destinations where they can step away from daily routines, reflect, and reconnect with themselves or the memories of a loved one,” he notes.
This isn’t your typical vacation planning.
“Grief travel is distinct from wellness or leisure tourism because the intent is deeply emotional,” Bhalla explains. “It is less about escape and more about creating a gentle distraction that helps in moving forward.”
For Anwiti Singh, grief travel became a pilgrimage to fulfil her bedridden father’s unrealised dream. “My father, bedridden for five years, wanted to go to Valmiki Tiger Reserve. His friend even booked him a room in the forest house several times, but he could never overcome his oxygen machine dependency. When he died, I read his diary. The place was mentioned several times. It broke something inside me how he couldn’t realise this small dream, could never cover the distance of 800 kms,” she recalls.
Her solo 11-hour drive to the Bihar-Nepal border became transformative. “When I was in Nepal, looking across the river at the forest—my father’s small dream—I felt somehow closer to him. I carried his large framed photo with me to the riverbank and everywhere I went during the journey.”
The therapeutic potential of such journeys resonates with mental health professionals. “Travel can interrupt this loop by offering what we call a transitional space—a psychological pause that allows the mind to process loss in a different rhythm,” explains psychotherapist Sakshi Mandhyan.
Neha Cadabam, senior psychologist at Cadabam’s Hospitals, adds, “Travel can provide both physical and psychological distance from the routines and environments that are tied to loss.” This shift often creates a pause in the constant reminders of grief and offers space to reflect, process emotions, and gain perspective.
Sometimes grief travel happens spontaneously.
Pallabi Dey Purkayastha, 34, booked a week-long solo trip to Jaipur after her grandfather’s death in 2018. “I couldn’t attend his wake, among other rituals, and so, I needed an outlet. The vibrancy of Pink City called to me,” she says.
What unfolded was cathartic. “In Jaipur, I went bonkers. I shopped till my legs hurt, had street food to calm my aching heart, and drank alcohol and cried my heart out.”
But human connection provided the healing moment. “When we reached the top of Amer Fort, he said something that will always stay with me: ‘God doesn’t give any pain you cannot handle, ladki (girl). Give it some time.'”
For Akshat Kharbanda, a student in France, a €10 spontaneous flight to Italy became an antidote to emotional suffering. “It was both the thrill of spontaneity and an emotional necessity disguised as adventure… It gradually opened my eyes to how much of my suffering was happening in my imagination rather than reality,” he shared.
Travel experts are noticing patterns in what resonates with grieving travellers. “Nature-rich locations such as mountains, forests, lakes, and coastal retreats are particularly comforting because they create a sense of calm and continuity. Spiritual destinations like Varanasi, Rishikesh, Kyoto, or even quiet monastery stays offer a setting for reflection and rituals of remembrance,” observes Ghatani.
The format varies widely. “Some find healing in solitude, others in stimulation,” notes Bhalla. “Travel formats also vary: some prefer going solo, while families often travel together to collectively process their emotions.”
Back in Rishikesh, Saha’s experience transformed when she found the right environment: “I stayed a week instead, because of the people I met. They made me feel at home. We’d spend evenings talking about global cultures, about what drew them to India, and sometimes about our loved ones—laughing, crying, and then singing together by the Ganga.”
The shift wasn’t dramatic but profound. Every time she sat by the Ganga, she admits to letting herself “cry openly; the river’s rush was loud enough to hide everything…” In that quiet, amid the ritual and the river’s steady flow, something shifted: the sharpness of the pain didn’t disappear, but it softened into a strange comfort.
Mental health experts caution that grief travel isn’t universally beneficial. “If travel becomes avoidance coping—using distraction to suppress grief—it may delay healing,” warns psychotherapist Sakshi Mandhyan. Emotional flooding can occur when familiar anchors are absent.
Timing matters too. “Travel tends to be less helpful during the acute shock phase, when the psyche is still in survival mode,” Mandhyan explains, adding that it becomes more beneficial in the integration phase, when individuals “begin moving from raw grief toward adaptive coping.”
Cadabam agrees, stating, “Travel tends to be most helpful after the initial shock or numbness has begun to settle and a person feels ready to engage with their emotions.”
For those considering grief travel, experts recommend specific practices. “I often encourage travellers to begin with storytelling practices: sharing the loved one’s memory with a trusted companion,” suggests Mandhyan. “Alongside this, journaling each day allows feelings and insights to take shape on paper, while personal rituals—such as leaving a token in a meaningful place or writing a goodbye letter—provide symbolic closure.”
Cadabam recommends “keeping a journal to record thoughts and emotions can help transform experiences into insight.” Simple rituals such as lighting a candle, writing a letter to the loved one, or carrying a meaningful object can create moments of connection and closure.
The travel industry is slowly adapting. “The biggest challenge is sensitivity. Unlike leisure planning, there’s no ready-made template for grief travel. Each story is unique,” says Bhalla.
Ghatani adds, “Service providers need flexible, non-intrusive itineraries that follow the traveller’s emotional rhythm.” Both experts see growth potential, predicting specialised retreats, destination packages, and emotionally sensitive travel advisors in the future.
The advice from those who’ve walked this path is unanimous: trust the process.
Singh recalls her Bihar journey: “I went down a spiral after his death. The travel decision was a penance, for not being able to save his life… The 11-hour drive healed me in ways that the entire year had not.”
Saha adds: “If your loved one ever spoke about a place they wanted to see or something they wished you’d try, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and go for it. It might feel hard at first, but once you do it, the experience becomes unforgettable.”
