As we set foot in the White Rann, the panorama in front of my eyes matched precisely the one my mother had showed me in the travel magazine. The milky white sand was reflecting crimson hues as the sun slowly set in the background. Both my parents and I couldn&rsquot stop smiling, but it was for very different reasons. Here I was, standing on this white wonderland that beat any &ldquoInstagrammable&rdquo destination I was hell-bent on going to, and my parents, on the other hand, knew in this moment that they had proven it to me that &ldquoparents are always right&rdquo.
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