July 31, 2017

This is crazy. I am crazy.

"Sir, your room number is 302. Ritesh will take your luggage to the room," the receptionist of Sharma Motel says.

"That won't be necessary. I don't have much luggage. Thank you." I grab the keys and take the stairs before she could say anything to me.

I'm staying in the same motel as the girl I saw in the car. Why? Because I am crazy. A valid excuse I gave myself before coming here is that I don't have any other place to be and there's nothing wrong about being in a motel which happens to be the same one the girl and her family chose.

Except that she could find out that I'm stalking her and report me to the police.

I shake my head as I reach the room and key in. A pungent smell hits me right away as I stifle a gag. Immediately reaching for my backpack, I get a can of deodorant out and spray it across the room. As the fog clears, I see a compact bed, an old wooden chair and a crooked door with no lock in the room. Sighing, I drop my bag on the chair and sit on the bed, waiting for the rigidity to hit me. But its soft covers surprise me. Not as bad as I thought.

An announcement so loud the whole motel can hear is shouted out. The restaurant tied up with the motel is announcing the beginning of the buffet along with some vile performance. My stomach grumbles right with the announcement. One thing I learned from this whole detour is how hungry I often feel. It's true, what they say. Luxuries are never felt until they're taken away from you.

As I open the door, I see a little boy run in the corridor and a girl running behind. As they run past me, I immediately feel it in my gut. She's that girl; the very same. Her hair is up in a bun and her white kurti blends with her skin texture like how frosting compliments a cake. I hear her laughter ricochet in the corridor as she chases the little boy and soon, she catches up to him. And I feel a grasp on my shoulder.

"What are you doing here, young man?"

My breathing quickens as I whisk around, making the hand fly off of me. The middle-aged man who drove the girl here stands before me. By the looks of it, he definitely recognizes me.

"Pardon, sir?" I ask, hoping my profuse sweat isn't too visible for him to judge.

"Yaar, you and your police mind, Vinodh! Leave the guy be!" A voice which is the texture of warm honey comes followed by a short, slightly chubby woman as she stands next to the man she addressed.

"Excuse him, he does this to quite a lot. You're the guy who told us our door was unlocked, right? Thank you so much!" She smiles as I realize how powerful her smile is. Those are the kinds that are so magnetic it pulls the smile from your lips without even your recognition of it.

"You're welcome, ma'am. I just now recognized you, sir. I didn't know you were staying here too. My name is Ayansh. Nice to meet you again!" I say after the confidence I regained from the lady's sweet smile.

The man - Vinodh, as she said - says nothing as he continues to stare at me, trying to find loops to judge me. The lady nudges him as she replies, "Nice to meet you too, Ayansh! I'm Madhuri and this is Vinodh. Are you going to the restaurant too? We'll be glad to have you with us!"

Dinner with them would mean dinner with that girl too. My heart almost skips a beat at that. But Vinodh's suspicious stare makes me decline the offer. What kind of a creep dines with strangers?

The same kind which follows one to a motel just because she made his heart jittery.

I shake my head after they walk past me. After a few minutes of wait, I step down the stairs to the restaurant.

There is a classic scenario of a loud buzz filled in the whole place as the dim red, green and yellow bulbs do a poorly excellent job at creating an ambiance. In the center are tables and chairs which are decent enough save a few with broken legs and taped up seats. In one far corner is a small bar like atmosphere, a woman behind the counter clad provocatively. I cringe a little, imagining how it would be for a family to look at this atmosphere.

As I scan through the restaurant, I find the family my mind subconsciously wanted to see. And to my eyes, they seem not to be bothered by the atmosphere. Vinodh is eating in silence and Madhuri is feeding the little boy as he is immersed in the storytelling the girl is doing with such interest. Her eyes twinkle under the dim lights as she animatedly throws her hands here and there to entertain the kid.

When I realize I'm staring at them, I defocus from them to look around and find tables. Only, I find none. Sighing, I resolve to sit on the bar stool even though I have no interest in booze.

After I give my order, I casually lean against the bar table as I close my eyes. This is one of the times where I usually feel the weight of loneliness on me. Whenever I stop at a place to eat and order the food, the time it takes before the food arrives always makes me feel lonely. Anywhere I see around me, I'll always see people in pairs or groups. Seldom people eat alone, especially at a restaurant. As I reflect on my life a few months ago, I usually had my meals alone even when I was home. I guess that's how it goes down in nuclear riches. Sometimes I see a whole family coming inside restaurants and fill the place with so much warm and happy noises. And the envy inside me riles up a little when I see them. No amount of money can ever buy me that; the feel of being surrounded by family. Real family.

"May I join you, young man?" I raise up from the table as Vinodh stands near me. "For drinks?"

"Sure, sir!" I say, a little too startled to realize I was not planning to drink. Vinodh slides inside and faces me as I notice the harsh black rings around his eyes with worry lines gliding across them as a cherry on top of the cake. He looks like he could use a drink - or a bottle.

"So, Ayansh, right? What do you take, young man?" Vinodh asks with a brusque that I didn't get before.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't plan on drinking tonight. I'm sitting here because there weren't any tables available for me."

His mouth forms an O as he throws a look to his family. He then turns to me and says, "Look, Ayansh, I told Madhuri I'd just join you and have a casual drink as that is the only way she'd let me. She doesn't like when I drink alone as she thinks I'll go overboard. Just cover for me, okay?"

I try to keep a tight lip as I nod. It's so amusing to watch a stern man like him soften to become passive to his wife's orders out of love. That's a very rare thing to see and needs to be appreciated too.

The naan and curries I ordered come along with Vinodh's vodka soda. He cleverly orders two glasses of it in case Madhuri checks. He quickly downs one of the glasses and places it on my side. I chuckle on the piece of naan in my teeth and he sips the other glass, unfazed by the apparent burn of the alcohol.

Two more drinks later, I finish my meal and settle the bill.

"Stay here, Ayansh! I need company," Vinodh says, a little slur accompanying his inebriated voice.

"Okay, sir." I look a little anxiously at his drinks count. He's downing them in a unanimously fast rate.

"Psh," he snorts. "I'm not your school headmaster. Call me Vinodh. And tell me about yourself."

"Okay, Vinodh. You already know my name, so there's very little left to know about me."

"What kind of a boring life do you live?" He shakes his head as he takes his sixth drink in a single bottoms-up. I just reply with a shrug.

"Why are you on the road? And alone?" he asks.

I pause and think for a quick second before I answer. "Just a road trip. Wanted some peace of mind."

Vinodh snorts again. "What all kind of freedom does this generation get? Wow. Actually," he hiccups, "Not everyone of this generation. It's just some people. The spectrum is so bad. One end gets to abandon their whole life and go on a 'road trip' while the other end is... they have to sacrifice everything for survival and still have not an ounce of fairness in life. There are so many of people out there wearing masks to hide their deep scars and see no light at the end of the tunnel. Hell, they're not even in a tunnel. They're in a cell they can't get out of. They suffer for no other reason than that they had eyes on them; eyes of predators. They - they're the fallen angels of the world."

By the time he's done, both of our gazes are towards the girl. She's showing the little boy the stars of the sky and for the first time, I see a deep sorrow in her eyes. From the distance, I see her soul in her eyes. And I see them long for life.

***