The Love Voyage

Chapter 7

"At certain moments, life alters your course and guides you to a place where you truly belong."

Izna's Pov
I got off the train when it stopped at Vrindavan Junction. It was a bustling day, with everyone throwing colors around. The vibrant hues sparkled in the first light of dawn, a sight I'll never forget.

Despite the early morning crowd, the view of people playing Holi with yellows, reds, pinks, and blues flying in the air immediately lifted my spirits. It washed away the bitter mood caused by that unpleasant encounter with the man who remains inside, peak corporate society behaviour.

It's not like I need him or anyone.I'm an adult, so obviously, I can explore on my own. I don't need anyone to accompany me; after all, this is more of a vacation thing. I mean, what could go wrong? I've even packed red chili spray, just in case.

As soon as I stepped out, I was engulfed in a sea of colors, which made my old, rugged white kurti appear more lively with the tapestry of vibrant hues. Stepping out of the station, I found myself amidst an ocean of rainbows, while the chaos outside seemed to echo the commotion within. Perhaps, venturing into the crowd was a poor decision.

As I continued on, I hailed a tempo bound for Banke Bihari Temple, draping my head with the once-white scarf, now tinted with the colors of the rain. The city was so crowded that my tempo driver practically abandoned me in an unfamiliar location. But hey, I'll figure it out on my own, right? Or maybe not. Who cares?

Deciding to embrace the Holi spirit wherever I was dropped, just a few kilometers from the station, I found myself in an eerie place. I sat down near a tea stall, where the vendor looked older than Einstein's grave itself.

"Dada, ek cup chai laga do," I told him, feeling the urge for that morning tea.

"Hain kya, kisi ki bua jawaan kar du?" That old vendor yelled at the top of his voice, startling me.

"Chai, dada, chai!" I yelled at him in caps lock.

"Acha, acha, kamai? Haan, beta, toh achi ho jaati hai," he assured, waving his hand.

Sighing and growing frustrated with his poor hearing, I decided to try another approach.

"Uncle, aap kya bech rahe hain?" I asked, my voice echoing assertively.

"Anpadh ho kya? 'Shyam Lal Tea Point' itna bada-bada likha hai, gawar log! Pata nahi kahan-kahan se aajate hain," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

The audacity of this living version of Tutankhamun! If it weren't for his age and hearing problem, I wouldn't have remained silent.

He continued speaking when he didn't receive any response from me.

"Dekho, munni, yeh char tareeke ki chai hai, jo chahiye, haan kar dena, theek hai?" he asked me, not even waiting for my response before launching into the next question.

"Tulsi latte chai, elaichi latte chai, long latte chai, adrak latte chai, konsi wali leni hai?" he queried.

What latte? Seriously? Did I accidentally stumble into the wrong Starbucks?

"Uncle, saare latte ko koot kar dedo, ek normal chai," I shouted, raising my voice to the usual high decibels.

"Tsk tsk, it's mixed latte, but koi nahi, I'm here, bro," he responded in his typical Brij accent.

I couldn't believe this guy. Was he trying to be Gen Z or what? Was he single-handedly evolving the planet?

A group of boys approached the tea stall, smearing Uncle and his tea stall in red, eliciting a few curses and profanities at deafening decibels. Uncle could definitely replace a loudspeaker.