One Cuppa Chai

°26°

Saturday was a holiday again. Only for me. Not for my parents thankfully. So I sat on my couch, balancing a bowl of cornflakes in hand, chewing thoughtfully at the cartoons onscreen.

I hushed, noticing familiar voices bantering below my balcony. I immediately muted the television and peered out. One of my mother's sarees on the washing line teased my line of vision and I pushed it away.

Mrs D'Souza was sporting a loose kurta and a pair of baggy jeans, a fishing rod over her shoulder. I immediately grew excited. I know that the D'Souzas' were more interested in weekend getaways than my family but it didn't really intrigue me because I knew that they would go camping or mountain climbing which my lethargic body did not have the stamina for.

But a lazy afternoon fishing without any vigorous activity ?

An unmissable opportunity.

Mr D'Souza was cleaning the windshield and spontaneously, I called out to his wife. She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting up at the alleged haunted building until she noticed my eager waving hands as if I were on a ship to Honolulu. I hand-gestured to her if I could join them and she beckoned me with an easy smile.

The fact that I didn't ask my mother's permission sprang up in my brain and then evaporated just as immediately. I had already bunked college a few times without her knowing so this would have to be added to the list.

For some reason, I was throwing caution to the wind. Also, I knew my mom trusted the D'Souzas. So whatever.

I had already showered in the early morning as required by our family tradition that we wash our hair every weekend -apart from the sultry working days when I would have to cleanse it from all the pollution anyways. Ignoring my damp hair, I pulled out a vintage top and simple trousers, robbing the television of its colourful display before I could lock the house.

After yesterday, I was more than happy to see Sylvia and I instantly dived into the car, muttering a happy greeting to David until I noticed who was perched by the other side of the window.

My expression flickered as I noticed Kabir but the couple was observing me so I quickly thwarted my greeting, pushing the door close behind me.

Awkward.

I wasn't really enraged at the band, for throwing me out because it made sense. Laziest musician, kick her out and improve the musical quality of the band. Logical.

But I didn't really know how to feel about Kabir being a part of it. Maybe he had an explanation. He wasn't insensitive.

I could get a whiff of his woody perfume from my side of the car so I quickly unrolled the window open.

Ah, fresh air that did not smell of the love interest that betrayed you.

I cleared my throat, hoping to lighten the mood, "Saloni?"

"She's gone to work on a project at her friend's."

"Oh," I fell back on the cushions, leaning towards the window. The breeze seared into my damp hair, creating ripples of dark waves swishing across my face.

I heard Kabir laugh and I involuntarily turned to gaze at him.

There was still happiness in the world?

I lost a position in the cool band at the academy and the next few days should be declared official for the public to wallow in a pool of sorrow over my loss.

After a few moments, something boisterous happened.

We were only half an hour into the drive and the stupid person next to me was craving hot chocolate. I usually declined offers of any refreshments during a drive because they eventually made their way outside as a bucket of vomit.