Our Story

Born and raised in a small village in Himachal Pradesh, she moved to Shimla in 2014 to pursue higher education after completing secondary school.That year, she enrolled at Rajkiya Kanya Mahavidyalaya (RKMV).In 2016, RKMV organised a college trip for girls to the Golden Triangle of India — Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur. Out of 107 girls in her class, only 44 joined. The reason most others stayed back was safety. Their parents refused permission, saying, “It’s not safe for girls to travel.” Well-meaning relatives echoed the same advice: “Beta, travel after marriage” or “Take your brother along.”Convincing her parents was not easy, but her spirit for travel was stronger than their fear. She finally received their consent and set out on her first tour.The trip changed her. She was mesmerised by the timeless beauty of the Taj Mahal and the intricate elegance of Hawa Mahal. She saw firsthand how rich India is in culture, history, and tradition. Yet, alongside that wonder, she felt a quiet sadness for the classmates who had to miss the experience. She realised they had missed more than a trip — they had missed a part of life.That journey became the most memorable chapter of her early years, giving her stories and memories to share with friends for a lifetime. More importantly, it taught her a fundamental truth: Travel is an essential part of education and life. She came back convinced that every girl and woman has the right to travel, to explore, and to see the world as it truly is — beautiful, vast, and welcoming. There should be no place for gender discrimination in that right. Indu Chauhan loved to travel. Mountains called her name, new cities lit her up, and every unknown road felt like a promise.But with every trip she planned, she hit the same wall. Group tours where she was the only woman. Cab drivers who took “longer routes” after dark. Homestays where she didn’t feel safe locking the door at night.The breaking point came in Kinnaur. She was at a tiny cafe in Kalpa, watching the sun set over Kinnaur Kailash. The only other solo traveler there was a German woman. They talked for hours. Two strangers, two countries, same fear: Will I get back to my hotel safely tonight? That night, Indu didn’t sleep. She kept thinking — half the world is women. We want to see it. Why should safety be the price of our freedom? She called Sunil the next morning. Sunil was her School friend, the guy who could fix any logistics problem before breakfast. She told him, “I’m done waiting for someone else to build this. Let’s create the tour company we wish existed.”He didn’t ask if she was sure. He just said, “What do we call it?”Wander Holic was born from that phone call.Indu handled what she knew best: curating trips where women wouldn’t have to choose between adventure and security. All-women groups, verified female-friendly stays, local women guides, drivers vetted and trained, no 10 PM curfews but yes to backup plans. Sunil handled what he knew best: routes, permits, vehicles, negotiations, 2 AM phone calls when a landslide blocked a road. He made sure Indu’s vision ran like a well-oiled Tempo Traveller.Their first trip had 6 women. Age 22 to 58. A schoolteacher, a startup founder, a new divorcee, a mother-daughter duo, and a 22-year-old on her first trip without family. They went to Sangla Valley. On Day 3 in Chitkul, the youngest girl cried at dinner. Indu panicked — was she homesick? The girl said, “I’ve never felt this free. No one told me what to wear, when to sleep, or that I can’t walk alone to the river. I didn’t know travel could feel like this.” Indu looked at Sunil. He just nodded. That was it. That was the whole point. That one trip planted the seed for what would later become Wanderholic. Today, Wanderholic isn’t just a travel company. It’s a room of your own, with wheels. For every woman who was told “the world isn’t safe,” Indu and Sunil built a world that is.