It took us forever to connect at once; something, or the other, went haywire with the video call and it was nothing, but irritating, particularly after a long day at work. The cab-driver shot odd stares at me, through the rear-view mirror, as I repeatedly uttered 'Hello', every time one of us called after cutting the call, which was interrupted because of poor connections. The struggle to connect, the broken voices ringing in my ears, the ear-splittingly loud honks and the unmovable Mumbai traffic got on my nerves and I was on the verge of throwing everything out of the window. On top of that, the cab-driver played songs straight from the seventies with the volume turned all the way up, and slowly swayed his hand to the sides, as though he was in some live concert! Mosquitoes crept inside the cab, through the window that was rolled down, and sucked the little life left in me.

"Didi, give me some money, please!", just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, a man stood a distance away from the cab and extended his hand out. "For what?", I questioned, tugging an earphone out of my ear and scanned him from head-to-toe. "I don't have money for food", he answered. "You don't have money for food, or for drugs?", I asked, straightforwardly, and the man's faced flushed. "No, Didi---fo—for food", he fumbled. "Go stand in front of a mirror and look at your face; you look like a drug-addict from every angle", I said, fearlessly, and he glowered at me. "You rich people think too big of yourselves. If you cannot give money, don't throw tantrums at us. We might be poor because we don't have money, but all of you are the real poor people, who have money but don't even think of sharing it with others", he bawled out with a look of disgust on his face and my nerves snapped. Just that moment, an incoming call from 'Darshan' flashed on my screen and I answered the call, right away. "Hey, love!", Darshan romantically called out. "Darsh, give me a minute. Just a minute!", I said, furiously, and shifted my focus on the man, outside the car. "Why should I even give you money? Are you paralyzed? Don't you have two legs and two arms? Are you so old that you cannot go to work? Now, for God sake, don't tell me that you cannot find work. Mumbai is such a big city; you'll definitely find something. Even if you work in a small roadside shop for a day, you'll earn enough to feed yourself for two days. But no! All of you want the easy way out; beg on the streets, when you have all the power in the world to work and earn respectfully! There are people who deserve money when they beg, and there are people who don't even deserve a penny when they beg, because there's no reason for you to beg! I won't give you a penny. Turn your face away from me", I spat in fury, and everyone stared at the ongoing drama from their vehicles. "You'll rot in hell!", he snapped and walked away. "I'LL SEE WHO ROTS IN HELL. ME OR YOU, WHO LIES TO PEOPLE FOR MONEY!", I bellowed, sticking my head out of the window. I slumped back on the seat and took a breath, swallowing hard, before attending Darshan's calls.

"I'm sorry, hello", I breathed. "Oh God, Dia, what's wit—", Darshan tried talking, but I cut him short. "Bhaiya, can you turn off the radio, shut the windows and turn on the AC! Please?", I uttered in sheer annoyance, as I felt a stream of sweat trickle down my back. "Dityaa!", Darshan exclaimed. "Calm down", Darshan calmly said and I sighed, throwing my head back. "I hate this. I hate this so much", I gnarled and shut my eyes. "Breathe. Don't get too worked up", Darshan comforted. "Then, ask the world to shut up. Everyone's getting on my nerves, it's not funny!", I complained. "No one's getting on your nerves on their own; you're giving them a reason, Dia", Darshan sighed. "What do you mean?", I narrowed my eyes. "Stop getting involved in everyone's life. Stop being so opinionated and mind your own business. If you didn't want to give money to the beggar, you could have simply ignored him; you didn't have to lecture him and get into a fight", Darshan pointed out. "Why are you on his side? Is he your brother? And, Darshan, I cannot watch people go astray", I stated. "Everyone's business is not your business", he plainly said. "Well, if we keep ourselves to ourselves and not look into other's lives, everyone's going to surrender to drugs, alcohol and what not! When we know the difference between what's right and what's wrong, it becomes our duty to knock sense into anyone who isn't on the right path of life; it could be your own sister or a stranger, it doesn't matter – when someone's wrong, point it out...even if that means, you'll get into a bad fight in the middle of the road", I retorted and studied my nails. "Anyways, leave that. How are you, and where are you?", I changed the topic. "I'm performing in Delhi tonight; I'm on my way to the venue. And what could possibly go wrong with me, when I'm on the go? I'm having a good time – concerts and parties, before taking another flight; it's all good", Darshan apprized. "Parties?", I snickered. "I'm pretty sure your parties are formal meetings in a conference room with a glass of wine...oh, with fifty-year old Uncles!", I rolled my eyes. "I've been visiting clubs, Dityaa", Darshan said, flatly. "You visit clubs and stand in a corner with an orange juice in your hand, right?", I smirked. "I check girls out", Darshan said. "Wow, that's good; that's healthy. Did you find any good-looking girl yet? I'm pretty sure you didn't, because you're dating the hottest chic in town", I vaunted, flipping my hair, and he grunted, making me giggle. "You're so self-obsessed", Darshan judged. "Oh hello, why are you saying it like it's something wrong, and someone I shouldn't be? Maybe, 'self-obsessed', as a word, paints a wrong picture; so in simpler terms, I am in love with myself, and I don't think there's anything unusual about it because if I don't love me for who I am, I won't feel worthy of the love others shower on me. And you know what?", I paused. "What?", he cued. "Girls who are 'self-obsessed' are confident, and the world finds it hard to love us. Because we're so clear in our heads, we know what we want from life and we know our worth; no one can sympathize us, or fill our voids and everyone finds it difficult to love us. Our confidence bothers everyone, because they know we're unmovable from the path we pick and choices we make, and that's why they make it look like being self-obsessed with a bad thing", I told Darshan. "I'm not self-obsessed in a way where I'll go out and announce that I'm the prettiest of all, because I'm not; I know it. But I'm definitely self-obsessed in a way where I'll never think of settling down for anything less than what I think I deserve", I added. "But I don't think, as humans, we get to choose what we deserve and what we don't. The Force above us knows better", Darshan argued, powerlessly. "God knows what's best, for sure, but Darshan, He's not going to serve it to you on a platter; if you ask for patience, He won't feed your heart with patience, right away. If it was that easy, why do we have a brain? You cannot accept everything that comes your way. Sometimes, you'll have to turn things down and kick things away, and I believe it is okay because life's too short to spend time over things that don't satisfy you. Like, everyone, literally everyone's, talking about how lucky I am because I have a decent job that pays me well, but I am not happy with it and I cannot wait to get out of here!", I jabbered. "And once you move to Amsterdam, you'll nag about how you shouldn't have ditched a high-paying job", Darshan said. "That's meant to happen and I won't be surprised if I complain, because that's how all of us are designed; when we let go of something, we'll know its value. I remember I used to hate school to the core, I would do anything to bunk school; literally anything! But once I graduated, I had myself thinking – 'Hey, school wasn't too bad. I had a great time and a good school life', and I won't lie – I missed school. It's not that I don't know; I know I'll miss my job, and I know I'll struggle from scratch in Amsterdam, but that excites me. And Pops always says that as long as life terrifies and excites me, I won't get bored. If we want to leave a mark or a legacy behind, we'll have to stop being mediocre and get out of our safe-place. Like, I know all of us are tied down with a mundane routine and schedule, but once in a while, we'll have to find time to do something out-of-the-box, and that's enough to ignite a spark in your life", I shrugged. "Madam, I've reached the concert venue", Darshan said, moments later. "Have a blast, Rock-star, and set the stage on fire", I whispered, loudly, with a smile. "And don't forget to check girls out in the club tonight", I teased, biting the corner of my lip. "Sure, I'll send pictures", Darshan played along. "Perfect! I'll pick the hottest one of all", I said and he chuckled. "I love you", he softly said. "I love you more. Have a good time, bye", I smiled and we hung up. The second after cutting the call, a flood of notifications emptied and my iPhone uninterruptedly vibrated in my hand. "God, we're never going to have this video-call in this life", I murmured, and opened the WhatsApp group, shaking my head to the sides.

Nash: Where is Dityaa?

Vaish: Dia, where did you die? COME HERE.

Chanch: I cannot believe we're struggling for the past one hour for a simple call!

Vaish: Thanks to your stupid connection, Chanch.

Chanch: My connection is perfect now; dare you blame it. I'm sitting outside for over thirty minutes and the mosquitoes are killing me. I'll die of dengue tonight!

Nash: Dityaa's line is busy. I'm sure she's talking to Darshan!

Vaish: Nash, what do you want to talk about though? Say it to us. Inform Dia later. Dude, I need to study; I've wasted enough time.

Nash: No, let her come. And Vaish, you can still study tomorrow. Stay with me for a while. Please.

'Guys, I'm so sorry! I got into a bad fight with a stranger', I texted, swiftly.

Vaish: Why am I not surprised! I hope you didn't break his bone.

'I would have, if he stood in front of me for a little longer than he did. Asshole', I messaged.

'Nash, what is it? Say it. All of us are online, I guess', I dropped another message.

Vaish: Nash, text us. We'll take forever to connect. Just message us. All of us are online.

Nash: Ugh, fine...

Chanch: WTF! I sat outside for thirty minutes and probably lost 500 ml of blood to mosquitoes, all for that one video call which isn't happening anymore. Someone kill me.

Vaish: We wasted so much time. You could have simply texted us, dude.

Chanch: And Vaishi, you're online after so long. I miss you :(

Vaish: I MISS YOU MORE, CHANCH. I HATE THIS DISTANCE.

'Cool. I'm a fucking potato in this group; an unloved potato. No one missed me. Screw all of you!', I dramatized, with a small smile.

Chanch: I MISS EVERYONE.

Vaish: I MISS US BEING THE STUPID US.

Nash: CAN EVERYONE SHUT UP? LET ME TEXT.

'Yes, teacher', I typed and the group fell silent, as we anticipated Nash to drop her set of messages.

Nash: Okay, so...

Vaish: So...

Chanch: No suspense please.

Nash: I AM COMING TO INDIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"OH MY GOD!", I gasped and jumped from my seat, forcing the cab-driver to look at me. "OMG, OMG!", I squeaked and bit my lower lip, ignoring the driver's weird looks.

Vaish: Fuck.

Chanch: AHHH OMG!!!

'FINALLY!', I crazily typed and beamed, stupidly.

Vaish: Nash, why? My exams are nearing, dude!

Nash: You can always bunk.

Vaish: NO WAY!

Nash: YES WAY.

'Don't worry about Vaish, Nash. I'll take of her', I smirked.

Vaish: I can spend a day with you, max.

Chanch: Come on, Vaish. Nash doesn't visit India every other day. We're going to meet after one whole year.

Nash: One year and some three months!

'All the more reason for Vaish to bunk her exams!', I texted.

Vaish: No. No. No. I'm already so fucked. I cannot afford to get into a bigger mess.

Nash: My trip to India calls for a reunion and a road trip! GIRLS, COME ON!

Vaish: Nash, yaar, don't do this to me. I thought you love me :(

Nash: Vaish, you don't do this to me. I love you so much, and that's why I spent all my earnings on this trip!

Nash: Okay, I need to go right now. But, everyone come online in two hours, or something, for an actual video call; there's a lot we have to plan, right from our destination to what we'll do! I'll go cook dinner, and you babies, have your dinner, complete your work and come online.

Chanch: Done. I'll go apply cream because I have mosquito bites all over.

Nash: And whoever thinks that their exams are important can stay offline. I don't mind.

Vaish: Oh, Nash, eff you!

♥

I knocked on the polished, wooden door of my apartment for the fourth time and shuffled my feet beneath my ground. "Kavya, are you alive?!", I exclaimed and banged my palm against the door, forcefully, bullying it to shudder briefly. Moments later, the door swung click opened and swung backwards, swiftly, and exposed Kavya – a colleague from work, with whom I shared the office accommodation. "What took y—", I visited silence, abruptly, once I looked past her and laid my eyes on her family; they were a bunch of unhinged people, who loved being a 'family', so much that they'd often hijack our apartment to spend time with their daughter for a day. Before leaving, they'd make sure that they turn the whole house downside-up with their weird antiques and not to forget – every time they visited Kavya, I was guaranteed a bad headache. I tried hard, so hard, to make peace with them, be accepting and friendly; but nothing could change the fact that they were the most annoying family I'd ever met!

That night, her parents and two siblings captured the living room, filled the coffee table with food and watched the ODI match between India and South Africa; everything they did was somewhat tolerable, except for the fact that they painted their whole face with the colours of the Indian flag. I gaped at them for a while, before fixing my gaze on Kavya, who, thankfully, wasn't dipped in the colours of the Indian flag. I'd often tell Kavya that she was adopted, because she had her nuts screwed in the right slots, unlike her family, who lost way too many nuts, for sure!

"I'm sorry, Dee", Kavya whispered and wrinkled her nose. "Just when I thought that my day cannot get any worse...God!", I lifelessly uttered, and stomped my feet on the ground. "I didn't know they were coming, dude. Even I had a bad day at work and they're here...to make it worse with their cheerfulness", Kavya sighed. "Don't worry, they'll leave...after another fifty overs", Kavya lowly said and I whined, shutting my eyes. "But you can stay in our bedroom; I promise I won't let them disturb you", she swore and I walked in. "Oh-ho, Dityaa!", Kavya's Punjabi dad, who was a bulky man with a wobbly belly, called out for me in his deepened voice and flashed a happy smile at me. "Hi, Uncle", I greeted and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Join us. Do you want to paint your face, too? My baby boy, Mandeep, can do it for you; he's an expert. Mandeep, do it for Dityaa Didi", Uncle ordered and Mandeep bolted towards me with a paintbrush in his hand. "STAY AWAY!", I screamed, unintentionally, and turned away from him. "I'm sorry, um...", I cleared my throat, awkwardly. "No, I—I do—", I pleadingly looked at Kavya. "Mandy, leave her alone. Papa, even she's allergic to face-paint, like me", Kavya covered up and swept me straight into the kitchen with her.

"My family's weird, too, Kavu; but this is another level of madness", I judged and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I know. This is some intolerable level of madness. They're never out of energy; if you play Punjabi music right now, they'll turn the house into a dance floor and dance until sunrise without taking a break. It's so annoying", she huffed, filling a plate with slices of pizza. "When our families meet, it's going to be a disaster. We should keep them miles away from each other, trust me", I rolled my eyes. "And they'll do all the weird things together in public, from weekend picnics to matching outfits. Yuck!", she spat in disgust and we laughed. "KAVU, VIRAT IS GOING TO HIT A CENTURY. COME. COME. COME. DITYAA, YOU COME, TOO", Uncle's voice sharply echoed in the living room and Kavya forcefully dragged me out of the kitchen with her, after mumbling, "As if Virat wouldn't hit a century, if we don't go".