Raisa Choudhury Part 1: The Passport Window There’s something quietly electric about the moment just before a journey begins, that tiny pulse of anticipation you feel as you zip up your suitcase for the last time and check your passport compulsively even though you know it’s there, waiting like a silent witness to whatever this new chapter holds, and that’s exactly how I felt at 3:47 a.m. in my cluttered Delhi apartment, staring at the cab’s taillights as I locked my door behind me with a rush of both fear and freedom, not yet knowing that this trip would be…