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POV AUTHOR
Dawn arrived with all the grace of a toddler trying to sneak out of bed-clumsy, loud, and completely oblivious to the chaos it was causing. Golden sunlight spilled into the villa, exposing the battlefield of unconscious warriors who had succumbed to last night’s legendary fun.
The living room, once filled with wild laughter, terrible dares, and even worse singing, now resembled the aftermath of an apocalypse-if said apocalypse involved teenagers, snacks, and questionable life choices.
In the middle of this human debris field, Tarun was sprawled across a giant beanbag, his limbs arranged like a malfunctioning action figure. One leg dangled off the edge, the other rested on a cushion like it had been placed there by some sleepwalking interior decorator. His phone lay face-up beside him, occasionally buzzing with damning evidence from last night-videos of him passionately singing off-key and confessing his undying love for paneer tikka as if it were a long-lost soulmate. His mouth was slightly open, a faint snore escaping every few minutes, only interrupted when he subconsciously swatted at an invisible mosquito.
Beside him, Tara and Shivi had claimed the floor in what could only be described as an epic cuddle puddle. Tara was curled up like a sleepy kitten, her wild hair sprawled across a cushion, while Shivi had somehow managed to turn sideways, her arm draped over Tara’s face like a very affectionate but inconsiderate octopus. Occasionally, Tara would wrinkle her nose in irritation, mumble something about “personal space,” and try to shove Shivi away-only for Shivi to snuggle closer like a clingy koala.
The rest of the group had also embraced floor life, but in the most haphazard way possible. Manav was using a half-empty popcorn bowl as a pillow (a choice he would soon regret). Rajveer, despite his relatively normal size, had somehow managed to sleep diagonally, hogging maximum space. Ishita, the ever-responsible one, had fallen asleep upright, her head bobbing like a malfunctioning bobblehead toy. Meanwhile, Mahi had a pillow over her face-possibly to block out everyone’s snores or to avoid acknowledging the horrors of the morning.
And then there were the sofa boys-Rohan and Rahul. Both had claimed two adjacent couches like kings of their tiny, lumpy kingdoms. Rahul was sprawled dramatically, one arm hanging off the side, mumbling about some “betrayal” in his sleep (most likely referring to last night’s disastrous truth-or-dare round). Rohan, on the other hand, was face-down into a cushion, drooling gloriously, blissfully unaware that at least three different people had captured his “mermaid twirl dance” from the previous night.
*******
Rahul had been peacefully lost in REM sleep, blissfully unaware that fate (and a certain someone’s poor hygiene) had other plans for him.
Somewhere in the chaos of the night, a rogue sock-moist with mystery and carrying an odor potent enough to be classified as biological warfare-had landed squarely on his face.
His slumber, however, did not last much longer.
His face scrunched in confusion. His hand lazily reached up, patting around until-
FLUMP.
The sock tumbled off his face. Relief, right? Wrong.
Because as he turned over, the stench hit him again. His eyes fluttered open in sheer terror, and the moment his brain fully processed the horrors he had just endured, he bolted upright with the force of a man who had just seen his entire life flash before his eyes.
“CHIII!! EWWW!!”
The room, previously filled with blissful slumber, erupted into chaos.
Tarun jolted awake, flailing so hard he rolled off his beanbag. Ishita, half-conscious, nearly toppled off the coffee table. Rohan let out a startled “HUH?!” before promptly smacking himself in the face with his own arm.
Tiya, who had been helping Tarun’s mom in the kitchen, came running, panic flashing across her face.
“What happened?! Did a tsunami hit? Why are you screaming like that?” Rajveer asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.
Rohan, still groggy, rubbed his face and muttered, “Bhai, kya ho raha hai? Why are you screaming like someone’s stolen your kidney?” (Bro, what’s happening? Why are you screaming like someone stole your kidney?)
Rahul, still traumatized, pointed accusingly at the offending sock. “YEH! YEH JO CHEEZ THI MERE MOOH PAR! JISKI MAHIMA SUNGH KAR MAIN MOKSHA KE BAHUT KARIB POHUNCH GAYA THA!”
(THIS! THIS THING WAS ON MY FACE! I SMELLED ITS MAHIMA (greatness) AND REACHED VERY CLOSE TO MOKSHA (salvation)!!)
Manav, now fully awake, blinked at the sock and yawned. “Shaayad Rohan ke hai.” (Maybe it’s Rohan’s.)
Rohan stretched lazily. “Haan, mere hi hai. Kyun, acche lage kya?” (Yeah, it’s mine. Why, did you like it?)
Rahul’s soul left his body.
“ACCHE?! TUJHE ABHI DIKHAATA HOON ‘ACCHE’ KYA HOTE HAIN!!” (LIKE IT?! LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT ‘LIKING’ REALLY MEANS!!)
He grabbed a slipper and charged at Rohan like an avenging deity.
Rohan yelped and sprinted for his life, diving behind Tiya for protection.
“Areyy!! Subah-subah konse doore chut rahe tujhe?! Tu chappal leke kyun ghoom raha hai?!” (Why are you running like a madman in the morning?! And why are you roaming around with a slipper?!) Rohan wheezed, peeking from behind Tiya’s shoulder.
Rahul lunged forward. “TU BAHAR AA! BATAATA HOON TUJHE KAISE DOORE CHUTTE HAIN!” (COME OUT! I’LL SHOW YOU HOW TO RUN PROPERLY!)
The rest of the group, still processing the chaos, watched in fascination.
“Bhai, can you at least explain before you start attempting murder?”Tiya asked, holding up a hand to block Rahul’s incoming wrath.
“Yeh kamine insaan ne apne gande, badboodar socks mere muh par phekh diye, jiski wajah se mujhe subah-subah itni bhayanak badboo jhelni padi!” (This idiot threw his dirty, stinking socks on my face, and I had to endure that horrifying smell first thing in the morning!)
Rahul turned, face scrunched in utter betrayal. “DO YOU KNOW THE KIND OF TRAUMA I HAVE JUST ENDURED?!”
A brief silence.
Then-laughter.
Everyone exploded into fits of laughter while Rohan attempted to use Tiya as a human shield.
“So sorry, bhai! Mujhe hosh nahi tha, neend mein ho jati hai galti! Chhota baccha samajh kar maaf karde!” (Sorry, bro! I wasn’t in my senses. Mistakes happen in sleep! Forgive me like a little kid!)
Rahul huffed, glaring one last time before
dramatically tossing his slipper aside. “Consider yourself lucky, Rohan. Today, the gods have spared you.”
Rohan sighed in relief.
And just like that, their morning started with a literal war over socks.
******
While the boys were busy engaging in a chase sequence worthy of a Bollywood action movie, Ishita noticed two people completely unfazed by the commotion.
Tara and Shivi, still tangled together in a blissful hug, slept through the chaos like true champions.
Rahul, now winded from his attempted assault, turned to glare at them. “Dekho sab uth gaye, par yeh dono chipak ke aise so rahi hain jaise agar ek alag ho gayi toh dusri ghum na ho jaye!” (Look, everyone woke up, but these two are clinging to each other like if one gets separated, the other will be lost forever!)
Rajveer chuckled. “Congratulations, Rohan and Tarun! Tum dono ko asli Kumbhkaran mil gaye.” (You guys have found the real Kumbhkaran!)
Both brothers turned to glare daggers at him, as if personally offended by his words.
Ishita stretched, rubbing her temples as she stood up. “Aap log jao, fresh ho jao. Main inn dono ko jagati hoon.” (You all go freshen up. I’ll wake these two up.)
She crouched beside them and gave them a few shakes. “Tara, Shivi, uth jao. Subah ho chuki hai!” (Tara, Shivi, wake up! It’s morning!)
Nothing.
Not even a flinch.
It was as if Ishita was trying to wake up two particularly stubborn rocks.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Yeh aise nahi uthengi.” (They won’t wake up like this.)
With a wicked smirk, she leaned down and deployed the ultimate wake-up weapon.
“Aunty ne fresh, garam-garam gulab jamun banaye hain… tum dono soti raho, Rohan jaa raha hai tumhare hisse ke khane.”
(Aunty has made fresh, piping-hot gulab jamuns… you two keep sleeping, Rohan is going to eat your share.)
And just like that-
Tara and Shivi shot up like zombies coming back to life.
“GULAB JAMUN KAHAN HAI?!” (WHERE ARE THE GULAB JAMUNS?!) Shivi demanded, eyes wide with excitement, already licking her lips in anticipation.
Tara, still half-asleep, blindly reached out as if the divine dessert would magically appear in her hands.
Ishita stepped back, arms crossed, trying not to laugh. “Kahin nahi. Bas tumhe uthana tha, toh yeh trick use ki.” (Nowhere. I just used this trick to wake you up.)
Silence.
A dangerous, ominous silence.
Both girls slowly turned their heads toward Ishita, their expressions darkening as the betrayal sank in.
Tara narrowed her eyes, cracking her knuckles dramatically. “Ishu… tu jaanti hai ki main apni pehli mohabbat par mazaak bardasht nahi karti. Now, you must pay for this.” (Ishu… you know I don’t tolerate jokes about my first love. Now, you must pay.)
Before Ishita could react, Tara launched a cushion directly at her face with the precision of a trained assassin.
And just like that, World War III began.
Cushions flew. Screams echoed. Innocent bystanders ducked for cover.
Rajveer, watching from the sidelines, grabbed a biscuit and sighed. “Aur ek shaandar subah shuru ho gayi.” (And yet another glorious morning has begun.)
******
After breakfast, everyone made their final preparations to leave for Lonavala, where they would be staying at Tarun’s parents’ penthouse.
Tarun’s father, ever the strict one, gave his final instructions. “Bachcho, maine caretaker se baat kar li hai. Tum log safe rehna, aur sabse important-DRIVE SAFE. Samjhe?”
(Kids, I’ve spoken to the caretaker. Stay safe, and most importantly-DRIVE SAFE. Understood?)
Everyone nodded obediently. But of course, Rahul had to ruin the serious moment.
He dramatically straightened up, saluted, and declared, “Aye aye, Captain! Mission Lonavala ke liye hum tayyar hain!” (Aye aye, Captain! We are ready for Mission Lonavala!)
Tarun’s father chuckled, shaking his head, while Tarun groaned, already regretting this trip.
His mom, however, still had her list of concerns. “Pohach kar call karna! Aur koi bhi problem ho toh turant batana!” (Call me when you reach! And inform me if there’s any problem!)
Rohan, always the charmer, slung an arm around her shoulders. “Arey Bua, relax! Yeh koi pehli baar thodi ja rahe hain? Hum boys toh road trips pe jaate hi rehte hain!” (Oh Bua, relax! It’s not like this is our first time. We boys go on road trips all the time!)
“Haan, lekin iss baar saath mein chaar sundar ladkiyan bhi hain. Tum sabko extra careful rehna padega.” (Yes, but this time, four beautiful girls are with you. You all need to be extra careful.)
The girls smirked. The boys groaned.
Manav jumped in, “Aunty, tension na lo! Yeh chaar sundar ladkiyan zarurat padne pe kab Kali Mata ban jaayein, yeh aapko bhi nahi pata!”
(Aunty, don’t worry! You don’t even know when these four beautiful girls will turn into Kali Mata if needed!)
Before he could react, Tara’s hand landed on the back of his head. “Kisi din asli Kali Mata banke apko hi bali chadha dungi!” (One day, I’ll actually turn into Kali Mata and sacrifice you!)
Rahul chimed in, laughing. “Bali ki jagah biryani chalegi?” (Instead of sacrifice, will biryani do?)
Mahi added, “Sirf agar biryani ke saath brownie bhi mile!” (Only if I get brownies with the biryani!)
And just like that, everyone burst into laughter.
******
As they were loading the car, Tarun took charge. “Girls, pass me your bags first.”
One by one, everyone started handing over their luggage. But when Shivi passed hers, Tarun nearly collapsed.
“Shivi, yeh bag mein kya patthar bhar kar le ja rahi hai?!” (Shivi, are you carrying bricks in this bag?!)
“Kapde hai mere bas,” Shivi said. (I only have clothes.)
“Lonavala sirf 2 din ke liye ja rahe hai, shift hone nahi?” Manav said, eyeing Shivi’s giant bag. (We’re going to Lonavala for just 2 days, not moving there?)
Shivi flipped her hair dramatically. “Mujhe kapde repeat nahi karne aate!” (I don’t know how to repeat outfits!)
Rajveer groaned. “Yeh toh sirf selfies lene ja rahi hain!” (She’s only going for selfies!)
After a lot of pushing and shoving, they somehow managed to close the trunk.
“Hayee bichare mere kapde andar dab gaye!” (Oh no, my poor clothes got crushed inside!) Shivi shrieked.
Manav rolled his eyes. “Idhar mushkil se dicky band hui hai aur tujhe kapdo ki padi hai, sharam kar le!” (We barely managed to close the trunk, and you’re worried about your clothes? Have some shame!)
And with that, the banter continued as they finally hit the road… unaware that the real chaos had only just begun.
**********
Rajveer dramatically twirled the keys around his finger and announced with a proud grin, “Okay, so I will drive.”
Before he could even take a step towards the driver’s seat, Rohan lunged forward and snatched the keys like his life depended on it. “Hatt! Last time teri driving dekh ke auto wale bhi bhaag gaye the!” he exclaimed. (Move aside! (Hatt!) Last time, after seeing your driving, even auto-rickshaw drivers ran away!
Rajveer scowled, “Arey ek baar ka incident tha-” (Arey, that was just one incident-)
“Bhai, ek baar ka nahi, har baar ka hai!” Manav interrupted. (not one time, EVERY time!)
Just then, Rahul cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Stop fighting. I will drive.”
Silence.
All the boys froze. Even the birds in the nearby trees seemed to pause mid-chirp. The girls, confused at first, glanced at the boys’ expressions and chuckled.
Rajveer took a deep breath, placed a comforting hand on Rahul’s shoulder, and said with fake sympathy, “Bhai, hume Lonavala jana hai, Swarg mein nahi.” (Brother, we want to go to Lonavala, not heaven)
“Haan, last time tune hume ek gali mein phasa diya tha, aur jab hum chillaye ki brakes laga, tu wiper chala raha tha!” (Yeah, last time, you got us stuck in a narrow alley, and when we screamed at you to brake, you turned on the wipers!) Manav added, shaking his head like he was recalling a war trauma.
The girls, now laughing loudly.
Rahul turned to glare at Manav. “Ek baar galti se ho gaya toh? Ab tu har baar yaad dilayega?” (It happened by mistake once, and you’ll keep reminding me forever?)
“Bhai tu ghanti baja deta, wiper chalata, lekin brake nahi dikh rahi thi tujhe!” (Bro, you rang the horn, turned on the wipers, but somehow missed the brakes!) Rohan added, wiping away tears of laughter.
Rahul folded his arms. “Acha? Tum log bhi toh ek-ek Schumacher baithe ho yahan!” (Oh yeah? Like you guys are some Michael Schumachers sitting here!)
(Note: Michael Schumacher is a legendary Formula 1 driver from Germany, widely considered one of the greatest drivers in the history of the sport)
Before the argument could escalate, Tiya stepped in, raising her hands like a judge declaring the final verdict.
“Bas bas, sab chup! Sabse safe option hai-Tarun bhai! Woh chalayenge, koi aur nahi.” (Enough, everyone quiet! The safest option is-Tarun bhai! He will drive, no one else.)
The entire group nodded vigorously in agreement. Even Rahul, though still sulking, muttered, “Haan, thik hai, mereko bhi chill karna hai.” (Yeah, fine, even I want to relax.)
Finally, with the driver drama settled, they all piled into the car, stuffing bags into the dicky (trunk), grabbing their favorite seats, and officially kicking off their road trip to Lonavala.
*******
As the car sped down the highway, excitement was at an all-time high-until the music war began.
“Arijit Singh ke gaane sunenge!” (We will listen to Arijit Singh’s songs!) Tara declared, already reaching for the AUX cable like it was her birthright.
“Arijit nahi, Honey Singh!” (Not Arijit, Honey Singh!) Rahul objected, snatching the cable mid-air. “Road trip hai, bro! Vibes chahiye, dukh nahi!” (It’s a road trip, bro! We need vibes, not sadness!)
“Arey guys, bas! Taylor Swift ke English songs sunte hain, na?” (Hey guys, enough! Let’s listen to Taylor Swift’s English songs, okay?) Shivi chimed in sweetly, clasping her hands like she was offering a peaceful solution.
Rajveer shot her a deadpan look. “Tu bas apni selfies le, gaana hum decide karenge!” (You just take your selfies, we’ll decide the song!) he teased.
Shivi, ever the drama queen, gasped in offense. “Stop getting jealous of my selfies, bhai! Teri bhi click kar dungi, tension mat le!” (Stop getting jealous of my selfies, bro! I’ll take yours too, don’t worry!) she shot back, flipping her hair.
Meanwhile, Rohan grabbed the AUX cable and yelled, “Bass ho ya na ho, energy honi chahiye! DJ Wale Babu lagaao!” (Whether there’s bass or not, there should be energy! Play DJ Wale Babu!)
“Arey maaro mujhe!” (Someone kill me!) Tarun groaned, rubbing his temples. This was getting out of hand.
Finally, in an act of pure dictatorship, Tarun snatched the phone, connected it to the speakers, and played 90s Bollywood remixes.
The car fell into momentary silence. Then, slowly, everyone nodded in reluctant agreement. Tara hummed along, Rajveer did his signature head bob, and even Mahi approved-mostly because there was some chance of a romantic Shah Rukh Khan song in the mix.
But of course, peace didn’t last long.
“Bass kam hai yaar!” (The bass is low, bro!) Rahul muttered, already fidgeting with the settings.
“Ha, aur tera dimaag bhi!” (Yeah, and your brain too!) Rohan retorted, swatting his hand away.
And just like that, the battle was back on.
*******
An hour into their journey, the group’s lively chatter began to wane as hunger set in. Spotting a roadside thela advertising “Pani Puri – Extra Spicy,” they unanimously decided to make a pit stop. The stall, though modest, exuded an inviting aroma that beckoned travelers to indulge.
As they approached, Rajveer’s eyes gleamed with mischief. He leaned toward the vendor and, with a sly grin, whispered, “Bhaiya, us dost ke liye extra teekha banana,” (Brother, make it extra spicy for that friend of mine) subtly nodding toward Rohan, who was obliviously scanning the menu. The vendor, catching on, nodded conspiratorially.
Moments later, plates of pani puri were handed out. Rohan, ever the enthusiast, grabbed his share and popped one into his mouth with gusto. Almost instantly, his expression shifted from delight to sheer agony. His face flushed a deep crimson, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Maa ki aankh! Yeh kya hai?!” (Mother’s eye! What is this?!) he gasped, his voice strained as he fanned his mouth desperately.
Ishita, Mahi, and Tara exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter. Their giggles grew louder as Rohan frantically searched for relief. “Pani do, pani!” (Give me water, water!) he pleaded, grabbing a bottle and gulping down water, though it offered little solace.
Rahul, seizing the moment, pulled out his phone and began recording. “Guys, dekho, humara brave warrior spicy pani puri ke samne haar raha hai!” (Guys, look, our brave warrior is losing to the spicy pani puri!) he narrated between chuckles.
Rohan, his eyes still watering but his ego refusing to back down, wiped his face dramatically and fixed Rahul with a mock glare. “Aajaa, tu bhi try kar, phir pata chalega,” (Come, you try too, then you’ll know) he challenged, holding out a pani puri like a villain offering a poisoned apple.
Rahul took one look at Rohan’s tear-streaked face and instantly stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “No thanks, bro, I love my taste buds too much,” he said, shaking his head furiously.
Rohan wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a devilish grin, he took slow, deliberate steps toward Rahul, his voice turning sinister. “Aree aise kaise? Aaja, tu bhi maza le! Piche kyun ja raha hai?” (Oh, how come? Come, you enjoy too! Why are you going back?)
Rahul’s eyes widened in horror. “Bro, bro-let’s talk about this!” (But before he could negotiate, Rohan lunged toward him, pani puri in hand.)
What followed next could only be described as a high-speed Tom & Jerry chase. Rahul let out a dramatic shriek and bolted across the roadside stall, weaving through plastic chairs and narrowly dodging a very confused vendor holding a ladle. Rohan, fueled by revenge, sprinted after him, waving the deadly pani puri like a weapon.
The rest of the group erupted into laughter, clutching their stomachs as they watched Rahul zigzag around customers, nearly knocking over a stack of plates in his desperate escape.
Rajveer, already doubled over with laughter, wiped a tear from his eye. “Bhai, yeh toh bas trailer tha. Picture abhi baaki hai!” (Bro, this was just the trailer. The movie is still left!) he managed between gasps, only to receive a sharp smack on the back of his head from Tarun.
“Jyada khush mat ho naradmuni bankar!” (Don’t be too happy acting like Narad Muni!) Tarun scolded, though his own laughter betrayed him.
Meanwhile, Rahul, now panting and half hiding behind a parked scooter, yelled, “Bhai, please! Main teri dosti mein marna nahi chahta!” (Bro, please! I don’t want to die in your friendship!)
Rohan stopped, still grinning, and held up the pani puri. “Aakhri baar pooch raha hoon-khaega ya…?” (I’m asking one last time-will you eat it or…?)
Rahul considered his life choices for a moment before dramatically yelling, “NOOOO!” (NOOOOOO!) and sprinting away again, leaving the whole group rolling with laughter.
As the sun began to dip, the vendor shook his head, chuckling. “Sahab log, pani puri kha rahe ho ya WWE match ho raha hai?” (Are you guys eating pani puri or is this a WWE match happening?)
And just like that, their road trip already had its first legendary memory.
*******
Hey, lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don’t forget to hit that vote button and leave your thoughts in the comments. Till then byy see you soon ❤️
Thank you for your love and support!
Love from,
Miss Sharma ❤️
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