Kaya

Chapter 5- Before all that

"Let's ride away for the weekend; what say?" Vedant had asked one Friday morning. He had been wearing just boxers when he'd arrived and stood right in front of a very hungover Pradhyum; sitting with his typewriter on his lap; pieces of paper crumpled around him.

"It's midnight." He groaned; running his fingers through his greasy, unwashed hair.

"The sun is literally showing us middle fingers at this point."

"The curtains are drawn." He had been typing all night; and wasn't able to complete a single poem in between sips from cheap whiskey bottle and the moaning sounds coming from his beloved best friend-slash-roommate's room.

"Not anymore;" Vedant was surprisingly (and disappointingly) sober that morning.

He groaned as a tantalising yellow disturbed his soft from the night eyelids, and he sheltered them with his palm.

"Come on man, let's hid the road."

"To where?"

"I don't know."

"Conveyance?"

"Bus?"

"Did someone say something about a road trip?" An unfamiliar but recognisable voice resonated from behind; he didn't even bother to look.

It had been an ailment for him since the last twelve hours, of course.

"Hey, morning." Vedant said; gleaming. Of course he'd beam; that bastard.

"Morning." There was a smile in the voice this time, which irritated Pradhyum further.

He was sleepy and was in no mood to play nice to one of his roommate's many one night stands.

"Pradhyum, this is Kaya."

"Hey, Kaya." You don't have much of a choice in matters like these.

"Hello."

After what seemed to smell like a garden full of blooming posies shunned his drowsy, hangover senses; she was suddenly by Vedant's side.

He couldn't really recall the exact scene now, sitting in a bar watching strangers drain their energy in mindless conversations, shouting over rowdy music; for he did not pay attention then.

But he did remember that she looked strikingly fresh. She wasn't extremely beautiful or an epitome of perfect beauty; but she made her presence felt.

"Where can we go?" Vedant was way too committed to this road trip shit that Pradhyum had assumed.

"Manali?" Pradhyum suggested, vaguely.

"Nah, too mainstream."

"It has to be a hill station. Else I'm not in." He declared; squinting through the horribly loud morning sun.

"I know a place." She'd piped in.

"Where?"

"It's called Kangojodi."

"Never heard of it." Pradhyum raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, most people have not. It is a pretty place though."

"Alright."

Pradhyum was a sucker for places that had been least heard off; places that had more animals and bees than people.

"How far is it, though?"

"An hour, approximately, if we go by Nelson mandela marg."

"We'll take our booze with us, then."