After Muskan left for her collage, Rishav embarked on his journey with the tourists, the vibrant melodies of a folk song escaped his lips, filling the air with a sense of joy and adventure. The foreigners, enchanted by the music and the picturesque surroundings, listened intently as they ventured along the winding roads.
Amidst the lively chatter, one of the tourists, a man, noticed a framed picture displayed proudly on the dashboard of Rishav's car. Curiosity piqued, he gestured towards it, his voice laced with intrigue.
"Who's the little girl in the picture?"
He inquired, his gaze lingering on the smiling face captured in the photograph.
Rishav glanced at the photo fondly, a warm smile gracing his features.
"Ah, that's my daughter,"
he replied proudly, his eyes alight with paternal affection.
"She's as sweet as jalebi, and her mother,"
he added with a playful twinkle in his eye,
"well, she's as hot as a sizzling kadhai."
The tourists erupted into laughter at Rishav's witty remark, their amusement evident as they exchanged amused glances.
"Why is that?"
the male tourist pressed, a curious expression etched on his face.
Rishav chuckled, his gaze drifting momentarily as he reminisced about the complexities of his relationship with Prerna.
"Ah, well,"
He began, his tone tinged with nostalgia,
"it's a long story."
And with that cryptic response, Rishav redirected his focus back to the road ahead, leaving the tourists intrigued and eager to uncover the tale behind the enigmatic family portrait.
As the journey continued, the man's curiosity led him to inquire about the kite flying festival of India, a celebration he had heard about but never experienced firsthand.
"Tell us about the kite flying festival,"
he prompted, his eyes alight with interest.
Rishav chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Well, you see,"
he began,
"here in the mountains, things are a bit different. We don't have the wide open spaces needed for kite flying like they do in other parts of India. But that doesn't mean we don't have our own unique celebrations."
With a twinkle in his eye, Rishav regaled the tourists with tales of the vibrant festive traditions observed by the people living in the mountainous regions of India. He described the colorful dances, the melodious music, and, most importantly, the mouthwatering dishes that graced the tables during these joyous occasions.
"During festivals,"
he explained,
"you'll find locals preparing a variety of delicious dishes, from spicy curries to sweet treats like jalebi and gulab jamun. It's a feast for the senses, with flavors that will transport you to another world."
The man nodded in appreciation, his admiration evident as he listened to Rishav's descriptions.
"You're amazing, bro,"
he exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration.
Rishav smiled warmly, his heart swelling with pride.
"Thank you ji,"
he replied graciously, the genuine warmth of his demeanor reflecting the hospitality and kindness that were deeply ingrained in his culture.
---
As they arrived at Rishav's house(because he wanted to show them his home), he parked the car outside and gestured towards his home, offering a glimpse of his world from the outside first.
"Here we are,"
he said with a smile, pointing to the cozy structure nestled amidst the serene surroundings.
"This is where I live with my family."
The tourists admired the quaint charm of Rishav's home, taking in the sight of the vibrant flowers adorning the windowsills and the gentle sway of the trees in the breeze.
YOU ARE READING
Apna Bana Le - MsKrishita
RomanceOnce upon a time in the quaint little town of Kasauli, where the air smelled like pine trees and the Wi-Fi signal was as elusive as a unicorn, lived our quirky Sharma Family. 🌲📶 Prerna, the feisty yet perpetually frazzled housewife, had a secret...
