As the bus continued its journey through the winding roads of Rajasthan, the air grew cooler, carrying the scent of earth and dried leaves. The sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the landscape.
Arin stretched his legs, adjusting his position on the roof of the bus. “So, are we actually going to work at some point, or is this entire trip just your excuse to give me an ‘authentic’ Indian adventure?”
Astha smiled. “Oh, we’ll work, Verma. But tell me, when was the last time you did something without planning every little detail?”
Arin thought for a moment. His life had always been structured, dictated by duty, logic, and control. But here, sitting on the roof of a moving bus with the wind rushing past him and Astha teasing him every step of the way, he realized that for the first time, he had no clear plan—and oddly enough, he didn’t mind.
“Fine,” he admitted. “Maybe spontaneity isn’t all bad.”
Astha grinned. “See? That’s the spirit.”
They rode in comfortable silence for a while, until Astha pulled a stolen guava from her bag and took a bite. She handed it to Arin without thinking.
He looked at it, then at her. “You stole this?”
“I borrowed it permanently,” she corrected, giving him a pointed look.
Arin chuckled and took a tentative bite. The tangy sweetness surprised him.
“Not bad,” he admitted.
Astha grinned. “Told you. You should trust me more often.”
Arin shook his head, but he was smiling.
Arrival in Udaipur
The bus finally pulled into Udaipur’s bustling station as twilight settled over the city. The lake shimmered under the fading sunlight, the old palaces glowing with warm yellow lights.
Astha stretched as she hopped down from the roof, brushing dust off her jeans. “Welcome to Udaipur, Verma.”
Arin landed beside her, shaking his head at the absurdity of their arrival. “So, where are we staying?”
Astha grinned. “I booked us a heritage guesthouse near the lake. You’ll love it. Very traditional, very royal—probably the kind of place you do belong in.”
Arin smiled. “You mean one with actual walls and a bed? I already love it more than the bus roof.”
They hailed an auto-rickshaw, and soon, they arrived at a charming haveli-style guesthouse with intricate carvings and courtyards filled with fairy lights. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air.
Arin took it all in, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, Mehra.”
“See? I take care of my travel partners,” she said smugly.
The receptionist greeted them warmly. “Sir, ma’am, your rooms are ready.”
Before Arin could say anything, Astha interjected, “Two rooms. Separate rooms.”
Arin raised an eyebrow, amused. “Were you afraid I was going to insist on sharing?”
Astha rolled her eyes. “I just don’t want you complaining about how I keep odd hours.”
Arin smiled. “Fair enough.”
As they headed to their rooms, Astha called over her shoulder. “Get some rest, Verma. Tomorrow, we actually work.”
Arin watched her disappear into her room and let out a breath.
He had no idea what the next day would bring, but one thing was certain—working with Astha was never just work.
And for once, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very dangerous one.
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