Wanderlust

Chapter 1: Comfort zones and the beginning of an adventure?

The silver XUV 500 zipped through the streets of Mumbai, India; well as much as a car can, given the traffic conditions! The driver was a young woman, perhaps in her late 20s, with wavy hair tied up in a messy bun, and dressed in formal attire.

'Haan maa. I've left work. Yes, you can start warming the dinner. No, I won't be late. Maa, I don't control traffic okay? Love you. Bye!'

Kiana Patel hung up the phone and for the hundredth time, willed the mile long stretch of cars to move so that she could calm down the herd of elephants that were stomping in her stomach due to a dire need of some food! She reflected back on her day, and how, in the middle of the meeting where she sat right next to her father, she wished she could be someplace else. I mean, don't misunderstand her train of thought, she loved her job as the assistant director of her father's hotel business and she had worked her ass off to achieve her dreams and get to the position she was at today. But there was a slight hitch in the plan. Kiana had a severe case of fernweh; a desire to travel, get the hell out of her routine, escape, and live like a gypsy, a nomad. She sometimes felt like a contradiction of sorts. On one hand, she didn't want to let go of something she had worked so hard to achieve, and on the other hand, she longed to get away from her routine life, her daily stretch of activities that had begun to feel like a chore, and yet...not?

A blaring horn brought her out of her reverie and to her relief, the traffic had started to budge, making her inch closer to home and the glorious food that her mother had prepared.

***

'Maa! Papa? I'm home!', Kiana yelled out, stepping into the warmly decorated house. Home; her home. Does anyone know of the feeling you get when you step inside your house, your space and feel a sense of comfort seeping through your bones? That's exactly what Kiana felt as she made her way into her room, wanting to change out of her work clothes.

'I don't understand why you and your father never carpool – it saves so much money, energy, and not to mention –'

'It also reduces pollution', Kiana and her father, Ashok Patel chorused together, used to the woman of the house, Swati Patel's daily rants.

'Yes! Exact-', Swati cut off halfway, glaring at the cheeky smiles her husband and her daughter wore.

Dinner was a chatty affair, and the trio were joined by the youngest child, Ansh Patel, who was in his early 20s. Topics of conversation flowed from Ansh's university shenanigans, Swati's lunch with her friends and the meeting at Kiana and Ashok's work.

'Arrey! I forgot to tell you Swati, I'm going to be out of the country for a week long business conference.' Ashok suddenly declared, having remembered his meeting with the board of directors earlier that morning.

Kiana's ears suddenly perked up at the announcement as she looked at her father longingly for more information.

'We're going to Rome to scout some locations for a new property', Ashok helpfully finished.

'Papa...when is the conference?', Ansh asked the question the two women had on the tips of their tongues.

'In two weeks. I'm going to be joined by three other people from the company', Ashok supplied.

'Who is going with you, Papa?' Kiana was bursting with excitement. She wanted to jump, shake her father and yell in his face, 'YES! I WILL GO WITH YOU! PLEASE TAKE ME TO ROME WITH YOU!!!!!', but knowing that it wouldn't be appreciated; she let time take its course.

Ashok looked at his daughter's eager form, and cheekily answered, 'Kabir, Naina and Kiana'

'Kiana...KIANA! ME! KIANA! I'm going to Rome with you?! I AM GOING TO ROME WITH YOU!!!!!!!', her facial expressions changed from shock, to surprise to joy in about 3 seconds and the remaining three, seated at the table couldn't hold back their laughter.

***

Rushing into her room after having helped her mother clean up, Kiana flopped on her bed, lifting the mattress slightly to retrieve a worn out journal, titled 'Drifter'. Flipping quickly through the pages, she landed somewhere in the middle of the book, stopping at the page with the heading 'Italy'. A wide smile lit up her face as she looked at the spreads in front of her. She grabbed a marker and highlighted one of the spreads carefully, her body barely able to contain the thrill she felt when she read the words – 'Rome: a bucket list'. Hands shaking, she put the marker back and stared happily at the list, awaiting an adventure that was to begin for her in two weeks.

***