When I got down at the Taki road railway station after being so mercilessly crushed into a pulp for what seemed to be hours, I was genuinely exhausted. My shirt was untidy and creased while my hair was a mess. I could swear that the wretched smell had managed to soak through the cotton and imbued itself into the layers of my skin.

I took a deep breath, slipped the bag over my shoulder and headed towards the road. I caught a Toto from the front of the station and told the Toto driver, a Burly man in his early forties, the hotel name. It was the same hotel that I stayed in the last two times I visited Taki. Hotel Riverside.

As the toto made its way along the twisted narrow roads, the familiar scenes and the familiar roads welcomed me back with an array of memories.

The green trees slanting in luxury, the soft free breeze kissing my cheeks and the open fields that stretched as far as the eyes could see. The exhaustion from the train journey ebbed away slowly as the lovely elixir of the past came creeping through my bones.

When I got down at Hotel Riverside I heaved a huge sigh of relief. Yes, Taki had changed and the change had started to be prominent just after a while when the wilderness, fields and the open sky gave way to the endless jungle of wires blacking out the sky, the loathed appearance of honking vehicles and lines and lines of stores and banners. What had not changed though is the Ichamati river which flowed majestically in front of the Hotel. There was a new embankment, new benches and a gate but the sheer awe of seeing a natural boundary between the two countries in splendorous animation remained unchanged.

After attending to the necessary formalities at the reception, I headed towards my room. Room 208. The same room I and Shraddha shared when we came here for the first time. I had talked extensively to the manager to ensure he makes the necessary arrangement to get me this particular room. Nevertheless, walking into the same room was a painful experience. But that is what I had come for. I sighed again; this time a sigh of pain. It was painful how well I remembered everything.

"This room is quite small," Shraddha
smirked laying the luggage down on the floor.

"Well we are not exactly in a metropolitan sweetie. You won't get a five star hotel here."

"Well at least it could have been better."

"Well maybe it could have been worse."

She sat down on the bed with a thump.

"Can we see the river from here?"

"Guess so."

I opened the cream colored door to the balcony and welcomed a fresh gust of air into the room. The Ichamati river sparkled in the sunshine painting the cloudless blue sky in its utmost purity.

Shraddha jumped onto her feet and hopped towards the balcony in childish glee. She leaned over the railing with a smile on her face, letting her chestnut brown hair lose in the cool breeze. I  stood behind and admired just her. She was everything I needed at that moment.

"Well sorry if I let you down about the room though," I shrugged.

She looked at me and smiled. The same beautiful mischief playing over her lips. With a skip she pulled me into a tight embrace. Her lips gently whispering into my ears in a shrill erotic voice

" I did not come here for the room.”