He was the only non-crew passenger and had voluntarily severed all ties with the digital world—no internet, no notifications, no endless scrolling. Not even a phone connection. Just books, his thoughts, and the open sea—and seasickness.

With temperatures plummeting to -30°C at night, stepping outside even for a few minutes felt like a test of endurance. “The ship itself was warm, but feeling the slap of the cold air for 5-10 minutes was an experience in itself. You feel alive in a very visceral way,” says Misra.

“The days stretched endlessly,” Misra says. “Especially with the seasickness. I’d watch the crew sip beer while I struggled to keep anything down.”

“My day revolved around mealtimes,” he admits. “They were the only normal things in an otherwise surreal experience. There was a Filipino chef on board, and the food was amazing—it played a huge role in keeping my spirits up.”

Despite the discomfort of the seasickness, there were also moments of pure wonder. “The Northern Lights,” he says, awe in his voice. “Though it’s the cameras that capture them in their full glory, not our eyes. But still, I teared up. You don’t truly realise these concepts until you experience them.”

An iceberg was another surreal experience. “We had to call in an icebreaker—a ship that smashes through the ice to make way. That’s when I fully grasped the term icebreaker, which we use so casually.”