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“A long time ago, Vishnu Bhagwan wished to experience tapasya. He was the preserver of the universe, he was the one who was supposed to enjoy the experience of the world. But he wanted to feel the stillness of tap, to understand his own creation through the act of renunciation…” Samarth whispered to Ava as they walked from the car parking towards the temple, their group around them, devotees buzzing ahead.

“He sought a secluded spot, here, in the Himalayas, near Alaknanda River,” Samarth pointed at the temple ahead.

“He closed his eyes and went into deep tapasya. And forgot the constraints of time. Years passed. Then centuries. Then thousands of years. He remained motionless, indifferent to the world, indifferent even to the biting cold winds and the ice freezing all over him.”

Ava’s face turned to him, their feet reaching the threshold of the winding temple steps and abandoning their footwear in unison.

"But someone was watching.” He held her hand as she reached down to pull her socks off and stuff them into her shoes.

“Who?”

“Lakshmiji.”

Samarth turned to check their group, pulling off their footwear behind them. Harsh was talking to Kirti didi, or as close as he would come to it with strangers — head nods and grunts. Samarth smiled.

“Then?” Ava grabbed his arm and shook it. He bent his head down to her — “Then, for her husband who was unaware of his own suffering, Laxmiji transformed herself into a Badri tree. That one there, see?” He pointed his finger in the distance. “A tree like that.”

“That’s a ber tree.”

“Badri is ber. Laxmiji transformed into a lush Badri tree, spread over Vishnu Bhagwan, and bore the brunt of the elements. She remained evergreen, even amid the snowstorms, creating warmth for him to finish his tapasya. And slowly, the ice over Vishnu Bhagwan began to melt. The whole valley came under her protection, turning warmer and greener, even through hail. She stood like that, for thousands of years, watching, waiting, protecting. When Vishnu Bhagwan finally opened his eyes, he looked at her and smiled, realising that the one he had vowed to protect had protected him.”

Ava’s face was alive, bright with the incense of the place, the nascent sun in the sky and the bell gongs from Badrinath.

“In all his lifetimes he had been her shelter. But in this sacred land she had been his. He hence declared himself Badrinath. People say that he called himself the ‘Master of Badri.’ But Hira ben believes he meant ‘The one whose master is Badri.’ This is them,” he eyed the temple rising in front of them.

She clapped her hands together — “This story is soooo good! I’ll tell this to my Naniji…”

“I have a feeling she might already know it.”

“So what? Hearing stories you already know is such a great thing,” Ava turned to the temple, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

“Let’s go, everyone!” She did a cute little wiggle, clapping her hands again to get their attention.

And then, like the leader she was, she took the first steps ahead of him, almost skipping her way up to the massive home of a god who had remained so because of his wife.

All the good things inside him burst to life at that sight.

A yellow kurti over frayed denims, hair swinging in the wind, dancing to a temple he had wished to visit for so long, with him.

Even without any yes or promise from her, Samarth had a flash of a future.

A flash that came and went. He startled out, revelling in that flash and then pushing it away.

It was today he had learned to live in and this was the best today of his life.

“Samarth, come on! You’re so slow!” Her hand reached for him from behind, fingers open. Without thinking, he slipped his hand into hers and let her pull him to her skipping speed.

————————————————————

“ Bhaiya, teen plate poha, do puri-aloo, and Kresha — please place your own order, [1] ” Ava pointed.

“Toast without butter. Brown mat karna.”

Ava rolled her eyes — “ Haan do toast bina butter. Aur poha ke saath sev. Aur… anaar hai? [2] ”

“ Nahi, madam. [3] ”

“ Chalega, itna leke aaiye, please. Anything else, guys? [4] ” She prompted again to their group of six huddled together on a small wooden table.

The tiny roadside joint in the centre of Badri town was stuffed to the brim but so warm.

And the scents of hot food and frying savouries overpowered everything else for their grumbling stomachs.

All answers came in negative, Harsh’s came as a grunt with his teacup raised high.

“ Bhaiya, ek aur chai, [5] ” Ava understood and relayed.

Samarth sat back pleasantly surprised at how easily she had picked up that cue.

He sipped his own tea, relishing the spicy taste but also missing his usual hot milk with chocolate powder.

That had been his staple forever. He began to tell that to Ava, unable to contain any words inside him after the experience she had shared with him some time ago.

The darshan, the aarti, that ethereal atmosphere. She had not only shared that with him but revelled in it, cherished it, and in turn, multiplied his experience. Now he wasn’t shy of telling her anything. Even his chocolate-milk drinking habit.

“What’s the plan now, guys?” Gopi slapped the table in excitement before he could open his mouth.

“Kresha Kumari wanted to visit Valley of Flowers,” Kirti Didi announced.

“But she wants to go there for sunset, right?” Gopi poked her bicep.

“I just want good photos, at whatever time of the day!” Kresha declared, blowing delicately on her tea.

“Then let’s go now!” Ava suggested. “It’s just 7.30. The light will be good till 9 or 10. Then the sun will be heavy.”

“Done!”

“Done!”

Ava glanced at him and Samarth nodded.

“You wanted to visit somewhere else?” She whispered. “Sorry I hijacked it like that.”

“No,” he smiled. “I love you hijacking things. Right from my window seat.”

Her eyes widened. She glared at him, her cheeks heating up.

Samarth lifted her teacup and handed it to her, allowing her to hide her face behind the huge sip she pretended to slurp.

Very un-princess-like. But nobody cared.

Nobody was prince or princess or chaperone or guard here.

They were all their own persons, not the best of friends but at ease after one night spent in close confines driving.

“Eehh?” Harsh called out to him. He made quick gestures with his hands and everybody’s eyes ping-ponged between them. Samarth’s eyes widened — “Who? Papa? He called you directly?”

Harsh nodded, holding up his phone with the call log.

“Didn’t you tell him we have a group with us?”

Quick hand gestures that now Samarth read as fast as he processed the spoken word. Samarth sighed, then let out a laugh. Classic Rawal, he mouthed. Harsh joined in, opening his hands in a helpless gesture.

“What?”Ava shook his shoulder. “What happened?”

Samarth looked at her, then at the rest of the group — “You guys mind returning by helicopter?”

“What?” “Why?” “Not at all, man!”

“Why helicopter?” Kirti didi asked, not to him but to Harsh.

“Rawal, my father, has arranged for a helicopter to take us back whenever we are done here. He says that after a night of driving, it is not safe to drive back immediately on no sleep.”

“What about our car?”

“He has sent a driver to pick it up and deliver it to school.”

“I am in,” Gopi declared. “Look, Kresh, now we can go to Valley of Flowers and not worry about leaving on time.”

“Hmm…” she chewed her lip, still debating. Harsh was busy writing down something on a tissue paper as Kirti didi peered in. Their flight plan, no doubt.

“What about you?” Samarth asked Ava. “Helicopter is fine? Not that we have an option. It is Rawal’s command.”

Ava frowned — “Why didn’t your father offer you a helicopter from the get-go?”

“He did. I fought my way through it. Harsh and I, both. We wanted to come here independently, by road, do this on our own.”

Her amused brows shot up — “And look what happened. You are still going back in a helicopter.”

“That’s my Papa,” he laughed. “He always makes us think we are in charge. And in the end he gets his way. He always plays the long game, loses the battles to win the war. I know it in theory. But every time I get caught up in it.”

“See, I told you, you are not as bright as they think you are…” she leaned in with an impish grin.

“Poha, poha, poha…” the waiter began setting their plates in front of them. Piping hot lemon-yellow-coloured poha for him, Ava and Kirti didi. Puri-aloo for Harsh and Gopi, and two sad toasts for Kresha.

“She will ask me now — How does your poha taste?” Ava whispered in his ear. And as if the sisters had timed it, Kresha looked at her younger sister with an eager smile — “How’s you poha, Ava?”

“Great!” His girlfriend fisted sev greedily from a bowl and sprinkled generously atop her poha, ignoring her. Had he just called her his girlfriend in his head? Samarth stilled.

“Try with this,” she began to throw in some sev on his plate too and he snapped out. He pulled it away — “No thank you.”

“Arey it’s really good, trust me!” She pushed over his lap, trying to reach his plate. When he didn’t relent, she just threw the fistful of sev into her mouth.

“Is it spicy, let me see…” Kresha didn’t relent and Ava smirked at him, passing her plate to her sister.

“Now it’s not coming back,” she whispered in his ear again. Samarth waited, eyeing her inconspicuously. And sure enough, Kresha dug into the poha with sev, or rather, a heap of sev over some poha. Ava raised her hand to repeat the order. He just pushed his plate towards her.

“What? For me?” She asked, her eyes going starry.

He chuckled — “Yes. Why are you so surprised?”

“I’m not surprised… but it’s what a boyfriend would do for his girlfriend, no?”

He swallowed. Then — “I’m practising.”

That wide grin, those dimples close to her lips.