Travelling solo!

4. Ganpati Pule

The morning arrived with a struggle. Shubh, armed with determination and perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, took on the Herculean task of waking the slumbering squad. Picture this: a man on a mission, armed with a flashlight and an unwavering belief in the power of punctuality. Little did he know that convincing a group of people to leave the warmth of their blankets at 5 AM would be akin to persuading cats to participate in a synchronized swimming competition.

Shubh: (enthusiastically) Rise and shine, folks! Time to hit the road and catch that sunrise!

Responses varied from groans that rivaled the morning roosters to disoriented mutterings about the sanctity of sleep. Shubh's attempts at motivation were met with a sea of messy hair and squinting eyes that seemed to question why the world insisted on functioning before the crack of dawn. Ultimately, the group shuffled onto the awaiting vehicle, a blend of bedheads, mismatched socks, and the collective realization that 5 AM departures might be reserved for early birds and the occasional insomniac.

As Shubh miraculously managed to corral our disheveled group into the bus, a sudden realization struck the fashionista among us. 

Aditi: (frantically) Stop the bus! My bag! I can't continue this journey without it!

The self-proclaimed trendsetter, who had taken it upon herself to redefine travel chic, discovered that her precious school bag, presumably containing the secrets of the fashion universe, was left behind in the bathroom of our previous stay. Now, anyone with basic knowledge of geometry would attest that buses and U-turns aren't the best of friends. Still, in the face of the fashionista's adamant demands, we found ourselves executing a vehicular moonwalk.

Shubh: (with a bemused expression, muttering to himself) I've heard of emotional baggage, but this is ridiculous.

In a spectacular display of flexibility, the bus executed a U-turn, much like a reluctant partner in a dance lesson. As the fashionista retrieved her bag, the rest of us exchanged amused glances, silently applauding the unexpected plot twist in our journey.

Akshay suddenly realized he had to get in the mix now, otherwise, these eggheads aren't gonna let the bus leave Dapoli at all!

Akshay: (adopting a stern tone, addressing the bus) Alright, folks, listen up! No more pit stops. We're on a mission, and the mission is to get to our destination without any more detours. I don't care if someone left their lunch in Timbuktu; we're not stopping. Clear?

10 minutes later, the bus stopped. 

Every Indian needs their morning tea, of course—nothing proceeds without that. 

I glanced out the window to find the tea kiosk owing to which the driver had made this sudden call to stop the bus, and with an eyebrow raised, sarcastically called out "Well, looks like even the bus needs its chai!"Akshay just threw his hands up in surrender, exasperated, and yelled "Fine, ten minutes! But let's make it quick. We've got a schedule to keep."The 10-minute pitstop soon turned into a half-hour detour, thanks to a few onions that decided to undergo a spa treatment in besan and take a dip in boiling oil. Sacrificing their identities for the sake of taste, these brave onions embraced their golden destiny. As the tantalizing aroma wafted through the air, everyone among us succumbed to the allure of garama garam bhajjis - well everyone except for the fashionista among us, who was adhering to a diet endorsed by some fitness influencer. The rest of us formed an eager line. 

Plates in hand, we couldn't resist the crispy delights, especially when paired with the tangy green chutney. Oh, what a combination! We savored our spicy treats while perched on the cliff overlooking the vastness of the sea. The kiosk, strategically placed, opened directly to the sea, making our impromptu snack session a feast for the senses. Sometimes, the best detours involve indulging in the simple pleasures of a hot plate of bhajjis and a garm Chai ki pyaali by the sea.