Page 11

“What did Ajatshatru Kaka say?” Samarth asked, stowing his backpack into the backseat of the car.

The sun was setting beyond the mountains and he had finished signing out at his dormitory, having submitted his assignments for the week and delivering the letters — his class teacher’s, his father’s and the Registrar’s.

Only then had the warden allowed him to leave for the weekend.

“Eeea,” Harsh made hand gestures, then grunted, then laughed. Samarth snickered.

“Your Papa thinks you are good for nothing.”

Harsh made more gestures.

“Yeah, if my Papa did not let you, he wouldn’t allow you to leave your house!”

Harsh nodded. He was seven years older than him, born with no voice in his throat but with double the spirit in his chest. He was studying through correspondence and was still trying to pass his 12th standard.

And that was not due to a lack of intelligence but due to a lack of interest. Papa, their Rawal, had identified that early on and had him train in the Royal Guard, where Harsh had thrived, then graduated with flying colours in Private Security and Hand-to-Hand Combat.

But his father had put his foot down and still had him slog through 12th.

But, Harsh hadn’t wanted to stay in Nawanagar.

On this summer vacation, Samarth had conspired with him and had him come up to Doon, as his official ‘security,’ now that he was allowed to leave the campus on the weekends and might need ‘somebody.’ In truth, this was Harsh’s vacation for the next two years.

“You checked the route?”

Harsh nodded, opening the door of their Thar and settling inside the driver’s seat, fiddling with Google Maps. He pointed, and Samarth pushed his head from in-between the front seats.

ETA Badrinath Dham — 3.30 am if they started immediately.

“Perfect. We’ll be in time for Mangala darshan.” Samarth shut the back door and opened the passenger door.

“Heeey!” Ava’s swinging voice made him turn.

“Hi,” Samarth smiled, then frowned, seeing her skipping down the road from the campus, a massive Defender driving slowly behind her. She wasn’t in her uniform, just like he wasn’t. She wore a long yellow kurti over a pair of frayed jeans, looking like nothing he had ever seen.

“What are you doing…” he stopped, seeing her come to an abrupt halt. “I mean,” he added. “Where are you going?”

“To Badrinath…” she said tentatively. “I got Kresha ready, and her boyfriend…”

“Her boyfriend?”

“Hey, Sam!” Gopi's head shot out of the passenger window of the Defender.

“Hey!” Samarth strode up to Ava, lowering his voice. “Gopi is dating your sister?”

“Yeah!” Her shoulders hunched up. “How did you not know? They are the Timolinee of their class.”

“The what?”

“Timothy Chalamet and Kylie Jenner?”

“Oh… right. So, your parents allowed?”

“On the condition that we take a bodyguard, of course. Kirti didi. She is driving,” Ava pointed.

Samarth noted a woman behind the wheel. She did not look like a bodyguard, not beefy or bulky.

But he had seen enough of them in his life to know that the real ones seldom did.

She looked to be about Harsh’s age. Or older.

“Aaaand,” Ava went on. “Kresha has left campus all of last year responsibly. My parents trust her, and now, by extension me too!” She grinned. “I first convinced her, she convinced Gopi and then we convinced our parents. They were actually happy that their girls were going to a temple.”

Samarth kept looking at her. She was so hyped and ready. In the best way.

“Umm…” Ava put her hands up. “I know you don’t like noise… so it’s fine if you don’t want to go together…”

“I want to go with you.”

Her face split into a massive smile, the last of the sun glinting off her eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. But we already have a car…” he glanced back at their rugged Thar.

“It’s cool, put your stuff in ours. We got an 8-seater.”

Without a second thought, Samarth turned and marched back to Harsh’s open door — “Listen, change of plans. We are going with Ava and her sister.”

Harsh frowned, hands on the steering wheel. He shook his head.

“It’s ok. Gopi is there too. You know him.”

“Oooo!” No!

“They have a bodyguard, a lady bodyguard. You and her can take turns driving. It will be good for you too, getting breaks.”

“Oooo!”

“Harsh, please,” Samarth gave him THE look. “It’s Ava. Please. It will be good, I promise. Please?”

Harsh sighed. Then shut off the engine, grabbed the keys and phone, and got out. Samarth kept himself from skipping down to the Defender like Ava as he got their two backpacks and walked. Ava was waiting, the backdoor open.

“Hey, Kresha!” Samarth greeted.

“Hi, Sam!” She was busy checking her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You got my sister to act sanskari.’

“Apparently, your parents like it.”

She chuckled, her face very different from Ava’s except their noses. They crinkled identically.

“I am coming for the Valley of Flowers. You guys go do darshan and all, Gopi and I are going there.”

“Sure. Hey guys, this is my friend, Harsh. He will not talk but rest assured he will tell you everything when he wants to. Harsh, this is Kresha, you know Gopi…”

“Hi, Harsh!”

Harsh gave them a halfhearted wave, grabbing the bags from his hand and opening the dicky to stow them.

“I told them,” Ava whispered in his ear. “About Harsh, I mean.”

“Thanks.”

Harsh rounded the car and stood outside the passenger seat, eyes on a relaxed Gopi.

“Gopi, come back here, Harsh and Kirti didi can take turns driving,” Ava diffused. “Harsh, this is Kirti didi, our bodyguard and the best driver in all of Gwalior!”

Harsh gave her a chin nod, which she returned just as coolly. Gopi opened his door grudgingly, vacating the seat for Harsh. This was going to be an interesting trip.

“We are at the back,” Ava pointed, folding down the seat and pushing in.

Samarth followed, settling beside her. The seat was locked in place, Gopi settled in beside Kresha in the middle row, and Samarth felt like Ava had created a cocoon here — for the two of them, as well as for the larger group at play.

“Ready?” Kirti didi asked.

“Ready!” Ava, Kresha and Gopi hollered. Samarth chuckled.

“Samarth says ready too,” Ava held his wrist up. “Are you ready, Harsh?”

“Huh,” Harsh grunted.

“Let’s go, Kirti didi!”

————————————————————

Samarth jerked awake, blinking at the dark moving interiors of the car.

His neck was stiff, the scenery in front of his eyes all dark trees and nothing but endless sky.

The car interiors were filled with silence, no music.

All night they had played music, trading playlists, Ava and Kresha bullying their way into longer sessions for their Punjabi pop. Now though, everybody was asleep.

Samarth peeped at the front. Harsh was driving, Kirti didi quiet beside him. Was she asleep?

“Harsh, all good?” Samarth asked softly.

He grunted in assent.

“Are you sleepy? I can come up front and sit with you…”

“I am here,” Kirti didi replied.

“Oh, ok, I thought you went to sleep. Do you want to come back here and nap?”

“I’m good.”

Samarth settled back into his seat, his head turning and eyes stalling on Ava.

Asleep. Her adorable panda neck pillow cradled her head on one side, her hair all over the place.

She threw tiny snore bombs out of her mouth, bubbles bursting every now and then.

Even in this dark, he was so attuned to it all.

Samarth smiled. All evening and night they had listened to music, talked school, cricket, polo, 10th standard gossip courtesy her sister and Gopi, 9th standard gossip courtesy Ava, then stopped for a dhaba dinner and promptly fallen asleep.

He glanced at his watch. 3.45 am. Their ETA had been pushed to 5.45 am after their long stop for dinner and then a longer stop for the girls to go to the bathroom. At a decent place.

Samarth reached inside his pocket, pulled out his phone and AirPods and settled with his head back on the window. For some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at Ava. Even while doing his morning paath.

Samarth plucked the AirPods, popped them into his ears and swiped his phone for his morning ritual.

Ever since he was a child, Hira ben, his Dadi Sarkar’s most trusted chaperone had come to wake him up in his Papa’s room.

She would sing these while helping him get ready.

Then as he had gotten independent, gotten his own room, she would let him do his thing, going around the room tidying it up, singing.

He didn’t remember when he had begun singing too.

Now, in the car, he kept his chorus to himself, murmuring under his breath as he played Madhurashtakam.

He followed it with Yamunashtak as was his ritual and then automatically his playlist switched to Krishna bhajan.

Hey Krishna Gopal Hari… Jagjit Singh’s low voice reverberated inside him.

Ava’s eyes popped open. Samarth’s first instinct was to look away. But she smiled at him. And he held on. His mouth stretched of its own accord. Ava got up slowly, pushing the hair off her face and tightening her neck pillow.

“Did we reach?” She asked.

“One and a half hour, Kumari,” Kirti didi resounded.

Ava swallowed, then glanced around. Samarth pulled the bottle of water and handed it to her, unable to look away even when she opened the cap and poured some down her throat.

He hoped he wouldn’t step into the creepy territory with the way his eyes couldn’t leave her.

“What are you listening to?” Ava whispered, capping the bottle.

“Nothing,” he mouthed, reaching to pull his AirPods out.

But before he could, she shifted closer to him and stole one of them.

Samarth’s body locked as she pushed it into her ear, Jagjit Singh’s baritone echo singing about bowing to that Krishna who had taught the world the secrets of karma in the middle of battle.