The trip had ended with mixed feelings , she thought as the local transport bus hurled down the narrow circling hilly roads. The bus was old with the paint pealing off at multiple places, the cloth seat covers were dirty and greasy, an old Hindi movie song played in the background. Her brand new husband sat next to her talking mundane stuff trying to distract her attention from her motion sickness while her entire being was focused on the rising ball of burning sensation at the bottom of her throat threatening her every moment.
Her honeymoon had left her confused; while sometimes she felt she had found her closest friend in Manoj at the others she felt they were total strangers and they belonged to two different worlds. But then that was expected given that they had married after meeting each other briefly for ten minutes. Even during the time between their wedding and engagement their schedules had been so tight that they had been able to talk to each other over phones very briefly; not that having Conservative parents helped.
Suddenly she was shaken out of her reverie as she realized that Manoj had been talking to her and was looking at her face expectantly. The little boy selling nariyal saved her by asking her to buy some pieces of the same.
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