Srishti Tehri Interview
“A travel creator’s journey from fear, fast living, and checklists to kindness, slowness, and conscious choices.”
Q. Before travel became central to your life, who was Srishti growing up?
I haven’t been asked this in a while, so let me start here. I grew up in a family of doctors, my father is a neurosurgeon, my mother a paediatrician, and my grandfather was a much-loved general physician in Saharanpur. I was expected to follow that path, but I never had the conviction for it. I wasn’t studious, couldn’t have cracked the entrance exams, and honestly, I was a distracted, naughty child with a dreadful fear of the stage.
I had no achievements from my day school to boast of. Everything changed when I went to boarding school in Dehradun from 2009 to 2011. That’s where I truly blossomed. I suddenly became good at math, developed a love for writing, and felt deeply drawn to geography and biology. The teachers were empathetic and encouraging, especially to children living away from home.
That environment changed me. Sports were compulsory, so I played football, volleyball, badminton and thrived in routine. I wasn’t “the naughty child” anymore. I started writing poems, listening to global music, and sharing spaces with students from Korea, Thailand, Nepal, Dubai, Bihar, Haryana, South Bombay, you name it.
It felt like two years of cultural exchange while staying in one place. My world expanded without me moving. Falling in love with the world later felt natural. I eventually studied Fashion Media Communication, did nothing with the degree, and travel swept me off my feet.
I had no achievements from my day school to boast of. Everything changed when I went to boarding school in Dehradun from 2009 to 2011. That’s where I truly blossomed. I suddenly became good at math, developed a love for writing, and felt deeply drawn to geography and biology. The teachers were empathetic and encouraging, especially to children living away from home.
That environment changed me. Sports were compulsory, so I played football, volleyball, badminton and thrived in routine. I wasn’t “the naughty child” anymore. I started writing poems, listening to global music, and sharing spaces with students from Korea, Thailand, Nepal, Dubai, Bihar, Haryana, South Bombay, you name it.
It felt like two years of cultural exchange while staying in one place. My world expanded without me moving. Falling in love with the world later felt natural. I eventually studied Fashion Media Communication, did nothing with the degree, and travel swept me off my feet.
Q. Moving to Goa brought slow living. What belief about success or productivity was hardest to unlearn?
I realised this about eight months into living in Goa: your problems follow you everywhere. You don’t escape them by changing locations. You carry your emotional baggage with you.
A slow-paced environment removes distractions. In cities, there’s always something to do, events, parties, food, people so it’s easy to compartmentalise pain. In a village where everything shuts by 8 pm, delivery apps don’t work, and crickets start singing, you’re left with yourself.
You sit with your fears. You face your beliefs about productivity and self-worth. Goa forced me to do that. Things have changed a lot in the last three years: quick commerce, more distractions, but slow living still exposes truths you can’t outrun.
I remember being in Turkey for a month in 2022 and being genuinely upset that my visa expired in 30 days. In 2019, I spent a month in Borneo, living with tribes in Danau Sentarum National Park, dancing to SRK songs. Travel, I’ll always argue, must be slow. It’s more soulful that way.
There are many. One that stands out is when I reached a small town in Turkey for the World Nomad Games after a 29-hour train journey and a four-hour car ride. Everything was booked. I was stranded. The mini bus driver called his wife, explained the situation, and they took me into their home. I lived with them for three days. We didn’t share a language, only Google Translate, but they gave me their son’s room, fed me, and cared for me. We’re still in touch.
Another time, in Azerbaijan, I gave a local man a lift while driving solo. Once he found out I was Indian, we spent half an hour singing Bollywood songs together. There was couchsurfing in Bangladesh with a mother and baby, visiting Gurez Valley in Kashmir despite warnings, and a stranger in Delhi who went out of his way to help me reach Kashmere Gate during a metro outage so I wouldn’t miss my bus.
These moments remind me why I travel. No matter where you go, it’s always the people who make or break your experience. Always.
When he told me, I felt relieved. Years of saying no had worked. I had earned that reputation.
Being able to say no is a superpower in this industry, and we don’t value it enough. Creators don’t have to say yes out of desperation. They don’t have to compromise values or read scripts that don’t feel right.
There were months when my younger self struggled with rent but I had integrity. So how do I balance it? By saying yes to what aligns and no to what doesn’t.
Money can be earned anywhere, but you only get one conscience.
You sit with your fears. You face your beliefs about productivity and self-worth. Goa forced me to do that. Things have changed a lot in the last three years: quick commerce, more distractions, but slow living still exposes truths you can’t outrun.
Q. When did you realise slow moments tell better travel stories than perfect itineraries?
I think I’m just a slow person, and my travels reflect that. I’ve tried travelling fast, I really have, but I lose myself and feel frustrated. Two weeks is the minimum I need to feel connected to a place. I’m an observer. I need time to understand people, food, dialects, how they say thank you, how they smile, how they scam, what they hide, and what they’re proud of. A few days aren’t enough.I remember being in Turkey for a month in 2022 and being genuinely upset that my visa expired in 30 days. In 2019, I spent a month in Borneo, living with tribes in Danau Sentarum National Park, dancing to SRK songs. Travel, I’ll always argue, must be slow. It’s more soulful that way.
Q. What’s one solo travel moment that deeply restored your trust in people?
There are many. One that stands out is when I reached a small town in Turkey for the World Nomad Games after a 29-hour train journey and a four-hour car ride. Everything was booked. I was stranded. The mini bus driver called his wife, explained the situation, and they took me into their home. I lived with them for three days. We didn’t share a language, only Google Translate, but they gave me their son’s room, fed me, and cared for me. We’re still in touch.Another time, in Azerbaijan, I gave a local man a lift while driving solo. Once he found out I was Indian, we spent half an hour singing Bollywood songs together. There was couchsurfing in Bangladesh with a mother and baby, visiting Gurez Valley in Kashmir despite warnings, and a stranger in Delhi who went out of his way to help me reach Kashmere Gate during a metro outage so I wouldn’t miss my bus.
These moments remind me why I travel. No matter where you go, it’s always the people who make or break your experience. Always.
Q. How do you balance earning, influence, and conscience as a creator?
Recently, someone asked my manager, “Isn’t Srishti very picky?”When he told me, I felt relieved. Years of saying no had worked. I had earned that reputation.
Being able to say no is a superpower in this industry, and we don’t value it enough. Creators don’t have to say yes out of desperation. They don’t have to compromise values or read scripts that don’t feel right.
There were months when my younger self struggled with rent but I had integrity. So how do I balance it? By saying yes to what aligns and no to what doesn’t.
Money can be earned anywhere, but you only get one conscience.
Bio
Srishti Tehri is an Indian travel storyteller and slow-living content creator based in Goa. With over a decade of travel experience, she is known for her deeply personal, observation-led narratives that focus on sustainability, animals, culture, and conscious living.
Living with her partner and three cats, Srishti creates comforting, reflective content on Instagram and YouTube, offering an alternative to fast travel and performative lifestyles. Her work emphasises human connection, ethical choices, and the quiet beauty of staying present.
Interviewed by Monika Bhardwaj
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