19-04-2026, 01:34 PM
I was sitting in the living room, scrolling through my phone, when Papa walked in with a big smile on his face.
“Sab suno!” he said loudly, clapping his hands once. “Ek achha plan hai. Taau ji ka aur Taai ji ka marriage anniversary hai next week. Hum sab wahan ja rahe hain — full family road trip! Car se jayenge, raste mein rukte hue, maze karte hue. Bahut din baad sab saath time spend karenge.”
Maa looked up from folding clothes, surprised but happy. “Achha idea hai. Taau ji ko bhi surprise ho jayega.”
Chacha, who was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper, folded it slowly and grinned. “Haan bhaiya, bahut achha plan hai. Main bhi aa raha hoon. Lambi drive hogi, maza aayega.”
Papa nodded enthusiastically. “Haan, aur ek baat — beta, tumhara dost Akash bhi usi city mein kuch college work ke liye ja raha hai na? Usse bhi saath le lo. Car mein jagah hai. Uske liye bhi convenient ho jayega.”
I froze for a second. My heart started beating faster. I had casually mentioned to Papa a few days ago that Akash needed to go to the same city for some project work. Now it was turning into reality.
“Haan Papa… main usse poochh leta hoon,” I said, trying to sound normal. Inside, a dark thrill mixed with guilt was already rising. Akash — my shy, conservative best friend who had a secret crush on Maa — was going to travel with us for multiple days. And I was the one who had planted the idea.
Maa smiled at me warmly. “Achha hai beta. Akash beta bahut achha ladka hai. Saath mein maza aayega.”
Chacha gave me a small, mischievous look from the corner of his eye — the kind that said he already knew what I was thinking. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the silent approval. The game was about to get a lot more interesting.
Later that evening, I texted Akash.
Me: Yaar, ek news hai. Hum log Taau ji ke marriage anniversary ke liye road trip pe ja rahe hain. Papa ne kaha tum bhi saath aa jao — tumhara bhi kaam usi city mein hai na? Car mein jagah hai.
Akash replied almost instantly.
Akash: Serious?! Teri Maa bhi ja rahi hai na? Main aa raha hoon bhai. Kab nikal rahe ho?
Me: Kal subah. Ready rehna.
I put the phone down, my stomach twisting with that familiar mix of guilt and dark excitement. I was deliberately bringing my best friend on a long road trip with my family — knowing how he felt about Maa, knowing how Chacha liked to play games, and knowing I was going to help make things happen.
The next morning we all gathered outside the house. Papa was loading the bags into the SUV. Chacha stood beside me, whispering quietly so only I could hear.
“Beta… yeh trip lambi hone wali hai. Main Maa ko handle karunga. Tu Akash ko handle karna. Jo bhi mauka mile, use karna. Aur mujhe har cheez bata dena. Samjha?”
I nodded, the pimping feeling already strong. “Samajh gaya.”
Maa came out last, wearing a simple but elegant light-blue cotton saree with a low dbang. She looked fresh and happy, smiling at everyone.
“Chalo, nikalte hain,” Papa said cheerfully. “Main drive karunga pehle. Bhai, tum saath baitho. Peeche Maa, beta aur Akash baithenge.”
The seating was set: Papa driving, Chacha in the front passenger seat. In the back — Maa in the middle, me on one side, and Akash on the other (he joined us at the first pickup point as planned).
The car hummed steadily along the highway. Papa was focused on driving, occasionally chatting with Chacha in the front seat about old family stories and work. Chacha sat relaxed in the passenger seat, sometimes glancing back with a small, knowing smile. In the back seat, Maa sat in the middle between me and Akash, her light-blue cotton saree dbangd modestly, pallu in place.
The mood was calm on the surface — just a family road trip. But underneath, everything felt charged.
I kept stealing glances at Maa. Every small movement she made — adjusting her pallu, shifting in her seat, or reaching for the water bottle — made my stomach twist with guilt. This was my mother. And I was the one who had brought Akash along, knowing exactly how he felt about her. The dark thrill of being the secret pimp was already there, but so was the heavy self-loathing.
Akash sat on the other side of Maa, trying to act normal, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. His eyes kept flicking toward her when he thought no one was looking. I caught his eye contact once. He looked nervous, excited, and a little guilty himself.
My phone vibrated silently in my lap. It was Akash.
Akash: Yaar… teri Maa itni close baithi hai. Uske saree ka pallu thoda sa bhi hilta hai toh mera dil dhadak jata hai. Main control nahi kar pa raha. Tu dekh raha hai na?
I glanced at him again. He was staring straight ahead, pretending to look at the scenery.
Me: Haan bhai… main dekh raha hoon. Woh normal baith rahi hai, par har thodi der mein pallu thoda move karta hai. Tu dheere se dekh… par careful reh. Papa saamne hai.
Akash: Yaar… uski kamar dikh rahi hai jab woh thoda side leti hai. Bahut soft lag rahi hai. Main soch raha hoon agar main haath laga sakta toh… sorry, yeh baat tere saamne bolna galat hai.
The guilt hit me hard. My best friend was fantasizing about touching my mother while she sat right between us. And I was the one who had made this seating happen. I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly, but the pimping thrill pushed me forward.
Me: Galat nahi hai bhai. Tu bas dheere se dekh. Main try karunga ki aur mauka mile. Agar woh pallu adjust kare toh tu notice kar lena.
Maa shifted slightly in her seat to get more comfortable. The pallu moved just a little, revealing a brief glimpse of her soft waist. Both Akash and I noticed at the same time. Our eyes met for a split second. He looked away quickly, cheeks red. I felt a wave of self-loathing — I was actively helping my friend get these moments, creating small opportunities, all while my mother sat innocently between us.
Chacha turned his head slightly from the front seat and gave me a subtle nod — his silent way of saying “keep going.”
Akash texted again, bolder now.
Akash: Yaar… jab woh thoda forward jhukti hai toh blouse ka neckline… bahut deep lagta hai. Main soch raha hoon ki andar kya hoga. Tu kuch kar sakta hai kya… thoda aur mauka dene ke liye?
I felt the guilt burn hotter. This was my mother. Yet I replied, my pimping side taking over.
Me: Haan bhai… main try kar raha hoon. Thoda wait kar. Jab next stop pe rukenge tab aur achha mauka milega. Tu bas dheere se dekh aur enjoy kar.
Maa turned her head slightly toward me and smiled softly. “Beta, thak gaye ho kya? Paani pi lo.”
Her voice was gentle and motherly. She leaned a little to hand me the bottle. The pallu shifted again, giving both me and Akash another brief, innocent view of her waist and the curve of her side.
Akash’s eyes widened. He quickly looked down at his phone.
Akash: Yaar… abhi bhi dikh raha tha. Teri Maa itni sexily move kar rahi hai… main pagal ho raha hoon. Thank you bhai… tu sach mein best hai.
I didn’t reply. I just sat there, the weight of what I was doing pressing down on me. I was creating chances for my best friend to see my mother in ways he shouldn’t. Chacha was guiding the bigger game from the front seat. Maa was sitting there, modest and unaware of how much I was helping behind the scenes. And Papa was driving, laughing at some joke Chacha told, completely clueless.
The guilt was almost unbearable.
But the thrill — the secret power of being the one who could make these moments happen — was growing stronger with every mile.
The road trip had only just begun.
And I already knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.
The car had been on the highway for almost three hours. The sun was high, and everyone was starting to feel the heat and the long drive. Papa glanced at the dashboard and said, “Thoda break lete hain. Aage ek achha dhaba hai. Chai-nashta kar lenge.”
Chacha nodded from the front seat. “Haan bhaiya, perfect. Thak gaye honge sab.”
I sat in the back, heart already beating faster. Maa was still between me and Akash, looking fresh but a little tired. Akash was quiet, stealing occasional glances at her when he thought no one was looking. I had been texting him lightly during the drive, encouraging him without being too obvious.
Papa pulled into the dhaba. It was a typical highway stop — busy with trucks, a few cars, and people stretching their legs. The open-air seating area had wooden benches and tables under a thatched roof. The smell of fresh chai and parathas filled the air.
As we got out, Chacha caught my eye and gave a small, mischievous nod. He leaned close to me while Papa and Taau were walking ahead and whispered, “Beta, yahan mauka hai. Main Maa ko thoda game shuru karne ke liye signal dunga. Tu Akash ko handle kar. Jo bhi ho, mujhe bata dena. Game shuru karte hain.”
I nodded, the familiar mix of guilt and dark excitement rising in my chest. I was about to help start the real game.
We all sat at a large table. Papa ordered chai and snacks for everyone. Maa sat between Chacha and me, with Akash opposite her. The dhaba was crowded — truck drivers, families, and other travelers were around.
Chacha waited until the waiter left, then turned to Maa with a casual, flirty smile.
“Bhabhi, yahan thoda garmi hai. Saree thoda adjust kar lo… comfortable ho jao.”
Maa smiled politely and adjusted her pallu a little, keeping it modest. “Theek hai Devar ji.”
But Chacha wasn’t done. He leaned closer to her and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Maa’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded. A moment later, she stood up to “help” arrange the snacks on the table. As she did, the pallu shifted naturally, revealing a brief but clear view of her waist and the curve of her side. She quickly adjusted it back, but not before Akash and I both noticed.
Akash’s eyes widened. He looked at me across the table, his face turning red. I caught his eye contact and gave him a tiny, encouraging nod — my way of saying “it’s okay, keep looking.”
Chacha noticed and sent me a quick text under the table:
Chacha: Bahut achha beta. Ab tu Akash ko aur mauka de. Maa ko bol… kuch aur laane ke liye uth ke jaaye.
I turned to Maa and said casually, “Maa, agar extra chutney hai toh laa do na.”
Maa stood up again, this time walking a few steps toward the counter. The dhaba was busy, and as she moved, the light breeze and her movement made the saree cling to her body for a moment. A couple of truck drivers at the next table glanced at her, their eyes lingering.
"Kya maal hai yaar.”
Maa heard the comments but pretended not to notice. She kept her eyes down on her plate, cheeks slightly flushed, and continued eating modestly. She remained completely composed — a proper, elegant woman in front of everyone, including Akash and me.
I felt a sharp stab of guilt mixed with a strange, dark thrill. These strangers were openly talking about my mother’s body in crude but appreciative ways, and I was the one who had created the moment by asking her to get the chutney. Chacha was sitting there with a satisfied smile, clearly enjoying how the game was unfolding.
Akash’s eyes were wide. He looked at me across the table, his face red with arousal and nervousness. His phone vibrated under the table. I checked mine discreetly.
Akash: Yaar… truck wale log teri Maa ke baare mein bol rahe hain. Unki nazar uski kamar pe thi. Main control nahi kar pa raha… bahut hot lag rahi hai woh.
I typed back quickly, my fingers shaking with guilt and excitement.
Me: Haan bhai… main sun raha hoon. Tu dheere se dekh. Yeh mauka hai. Un logon ki baatein sun ke bhi maza aa raha hai na?
Akash: Haan yaar… bahut. Teri Maa ka Pallu jab hila tha… un truck walon ki aankhen khuli reh gayi thi. Tu aur mauka de sakta hai kya?
Chacha noticed everything. He leaned slightly toward Maa and whispered something short in her ear. Maa nodded politely, stood up again to “clear the plates” and take them to the counter. As she walked the short distance, the saree clung to her hips in the breeze. The two truck drivers turned their heads fully this time, watching her openly.
The mustache guy said even louder, “Dekho bhai… chalti hai toh iski gand aur bhi zyada mast hojati hai. Bahut hi lucky hai uska pati.”
The other one whistled softly under his breath. “Agar chance mile toh… bas ek baar baat karne ka mann karta hai.”
Maa returned quickly, sat down, and gave a small, modest smile to no one in particular. She remained elegant and composed, never encouraging the comments or looking at the drivers.
Papa was busy talking to Chacha about the route ahead, completely oblivious to what was happening around the table.
I sat there, heart pounding. The guilt was crushing — my mother was being openly admired and commented on by strangers in a public dhaba, and I was the one helping make it happen. Yet the pimping thrill was stronger than ever. I had brought Akash here, and now even outsiders were noticing Maa because of the small opportunities I created.
Akash texted again, bolder now.
Akash: Yaar… un truck walon ne teri Maa ko itna ghoora. Main soch raha hoon… agar woh aur thoda time yahan baithi rahi toh kya hoga.
Chacha gave me a quick, approving glance from across the table. The game had truly begun.
The dhaba break was supposed to be just for chai and snacks.
But for us, it had become the first real public test of the road trip.
“Sab suno!” he said loudly, clapping his hands once. “Ek achha plan hai. Taau ji ka aur Taai ji ka marriage anniversary hai next week. Hum sab wahan ja rahe hain — full family road trip! Car se jayenge, raste mein rukte hue, maze karte hue. Bahut din baad sab saath time spend karenge.”
Maa looked up from folding clothes, surprised but happy. “Achha idea hai. Taau ji ko bhi surprise ho jayega.”
Chacha, who was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper, folded it slowly and grinned. “Haan bhaiya, bahut achha plan hai. Main bhi aa raha hoon. Lambi drive hogi, maza aayega.”
Papa nodded enthusiastically. “Haan, aur ek baat — beta, tumhara dost Akash bhi usi city mein kuch college work ke liye ja raha hai na? Usse bhi saath le lo. Car mein jagah hai. Uske liye bhi convenient ho jayega.”
I froze for a second. My heart started beating faster. I had casually mentioned to Papa a few days ago that Akash needed to go to the same city for some project work. Now it was turning into reality.
“Haan Papa… main usse poochh leta hoon,” I said, trying to sound normal. Inside, a dark thrill mixed with guilt was already rising. Akash — my shy, conservative best friend who had a secret crush on Maa — was going to travel with us for multiple days. And I was the one who had planted the idea.
Maa smiled at me warmly. “Achha hai beta. Akash beta bahut achha ladka hai. Saath mein maza aayega.”
Chacha gave me a small, mischievous look from the corner of his eye — the kind that said he already knew what I was thinking. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the silent approval. The game was about to get a lot more interesting.
Later that evening, I texted Akash.
Me: Yaar, ek news hai. Hum log Taau ji ke marriage anniversary ke liye road trip pe ja rahe hain. Papa ne kaha tum bhi saath aa jao — tumhara bhi kaam usi city mein hai na? Car mein jagah hai.
Akash replied almost instantly.
Akash: Serious?! Teri Maa bhi ja rahi hai na? Main aa raha hoon bhai. Kab nikal rahe ho?
Me: Kal subah. Ready rehna.
I put the phone down, my stomach twisting with that familiar mix of guilt and dark excitement. I was deliberately bringing my best friend on a long road trip with my family — knowing how he felt about Maa, knowing how Chacha liked to play games, and knowing I was going to help make things happen.
The next morning we all gathered outside the house. Papa was loading the bags into the SUV. Chacha stood beside me, whispering quietly so only I could hear.
“Beta… yeh trip lambi hone wali hai. Main Maa ko handle karunga. Tu Akash ko handle karna. Jo bhi mauka mile, use karna. Aur mujhe har cheez bata dena. Samjha?”
I nodded, the pimping feeling already strong. “Samajh gaya.”
Maa came out last, wearing a simple but elegant light-blue cotton saree with a low dbang. She looked fresh and happy, smiling at everyone.
“Chalo, nikalte hain,” Papa said cheerfully. “Main drive karunga pehle. Bhai, tum saath baitho. Peeche Maa, beta aur Akash baithenge.”
The seating was set: Papa driving, Chacha in the front passenger seat. In the back — Maa in the middle, me on one side, and Akash on the other (he joined us at the first pickup point as planned).
The car hummed steadily along the highway. Papa was focused on driving, occasionally chatting with Chacha in the front seat about old family stories and work. Chacha sat relaxed in the passenger seat, sometimes glancing back with a small, knowing smile. In the back seat, Maa sat in the middle between me and Akash, her light-blue cotton saree dbangd modestly, pallu in place.
The mood was calm on the surface — just a family road trip. But underneath, everything felt charged.
I kept stealing glances at Maa. Every small movement she made — adjusting her pallu, shifting in her seat, or reaching for the water bottle — made my stomach twist with guilt. This was my mother. And I was the one who had brought Akash along, knowing exactly how he felt about her. The dark thrill of being the secret pimp was already there, but so was the heavy self-loathing.
Akash sat on the other side of Maa, trying to act normal, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. His eyes kept flicking toward her when he thought no one was looking. I caught his eye contact once. He looked nervous, excited, and a little guilty himself.
My phone vibrated silently in my lap. It was Akash.
Akash: Yaar… teri Maa itni close baithi hai. Uske saree ka pallu thoda sa bhi hilta hai toh mera dil dhadak jata hai. Main control nahi kar pa raha. Tu dekh raha hai na?
I glanced at him again. He was staring straight ahead, pretending to look at the scenery.
Me: Haan bhai… main dekh raha hoon. Woh normal baith rahi hai, par har thodi der mein pallu thoda move karta hai. Tu dheere se dekh… par careful reh. Papa saamne hai.
Akash: Yaar… uski kamar dikh rahi hai jab woh thoda side leti hai. Bahut soft lag rahi hai. Main soch raha hoon agar main haath laga sakta toh… sorry, yeh baat tere saamne bolna galat hai.
The guilt hit me hard. My best friend was fantasizing about touching my mother while she sat right between us. And I was the one who had made this seating happen. I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly, but the pimping thrill pushed me forward.
Me: Galat nahi hai bhai. Tu bas dheere se dekh. Main try karunga ki aur mauka mile. Agar woh pallu adjust kare toh tu notice kar lena.
Maa shifted slightly in her seat to get more comfortable. The pallu moved just a little, revealing a brief glimpse of her soft waist. Both Akash and I noticed at the same time. Our eyes met for a split second. He looked away quickly, cheeks red. I felt a wave of self-loathing — I was actively helping my friend get these moments, creating small opportunities, all while my mother sat innocently between us.
Chacha turned his head slightly from the front seat and gave me a subtle nod — his silent way of saying “keep going.”
Akash texted again, bolder now.
Akash: Yaar… jab woh thoda forward jhukti hai toh blouse ka neckline… bahut deep lagta hai. Main soch raha hoon ki andar kya hoga. Tu kuch kar sakta hai kya… thoda aur mauka dene ke liye?
I felt the guilt burn hotter. This was my mother. Yet I replied, my pimping side taking over.
Me: Haan bhai… main try kar raha hoon. Thoda wait kar. Jab next stop pe rukenge tab aur achha mauka milega. Tu bas dheere se dekh aur enjoy kar.
Maa turned her head slightly toward me and smiled softly. “Beta, thak gaye ho kya? Paani pi lo.”
Her voice was gentle and motherly. She leaned a little to hand me the bottle. The pallu shifted again, giving both me and Akash another brief, innocent view of her waist and the curve of her side.
Akash’s eyes widened. He quickly looked down at his phone.
Akash: Yaar… abhi bhi dikh raha tha. Teri Maa itni sexily move kar rahi hai… main pagal ho raha hoon. Thank you bhai… tu sach mein best hai.
I didn’t reply. I just sat there, the weight of what I was doing pressing down on me. I was creating chances for my best friend to see my mother in ways he shouldn’t. Chacha was guiding the bigger game from the front seat. Maa was sitting there, modest and unaware of how much I was helping behind the scenes. And Papa was driving, laughing at some joke Chacha told, completely clueless.
The guilt was almost unbearable.
But the thrill — the secret power of being the one who could make these moments happen — was growing stronger with every mile.
The road trip had only just begun.
And I already knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.
The car had been on the highway for almost three hours. The sun was high, and everyone was starting to feel the heat and the long drive. Papa glanced at the dashboard and said, “Thoda break lete hain. Aage ek achha dhaba hai. Chai-nashta kar lenge.”
Chacha nodded from the front seat. “Haan bhaiya, perfect. Thak gaye honge sab.”
I sat in the back, heart already beating faster. Maa was still between me and Akash, looking fresh but a little tired. Akash was quiet, stealing occasional glances at her when he thought no one was looking. I had been texting him lightly during the drive, encouraging him without being too obvious.
Papa pulled into the dhaba. It was a typical highway stop — busy with trucks, a few cars, and people stretching their legs. The open-air seating area had wooden benches and tables under a thatched roof. The smell of fresh chai and parathas filled the air.
As we got out, Chacha caught my eye and gave a small, mischievous nod. He leaned close to me while Papa and Taau were walking ahead and whispered, “Beta, yahan mauka hai. Main Maa ko thoda game shuru karne ke liye signal dunga. Tu Akash ko handle kar. Jo bhi ho, mujhe bata dena. Game shuru karte hain.”
I nodded, the familiar mix of guilt and dark excitement rising in my chest. I was about to help start the real game.
We all sat at a large table. Papa ordered chai and snacks for everyone. Maa sat between Chacha and me, with Akash opposite her. The dhaba was crowded — truck drivers, families, and other travelers were around.
Chacha waited until the waiter left, then turned to Maa with a casual, flirty smile.
“Bhabhi, yahan thoda garmi hai. Saree thoda adjust kar lo… comfortable ho jao.”
Maa smiled politely and adjusted her pallu a little, keeping it modest. “Theek hai Devar ji.”
But Chacha wasn’t done. He leaned closer to her and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Maa’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded. A moment later, she stood up to “help” arrange the snacks on the table. As she did, the pallu shifted naturally, revealing a brief but clear view of her waist and the curve of her side. She quickly adjusted it back, but not before Akash and I both noticed.
Akash’s eyes widened. He looked at me across the table, his face turning red. I caught his eye contact and gave him a tiny, encouraging nod — my way of saying “it’s okay, keep looking.”
Chacha noticed and sent me a quick text under the table:
Chacha: Bahut achha beta. Ab tu Akash ko aur mauka de. Maa ko bol… kuch aur laane ke liye uth ke jaaye.
I turned to Maa and said casually, “Maa, agar extra chutney hai toh laa do na.”
Maa stood up again, this time walking a few steps toward the counter. The dhaba was busy, and as she moved, the light breeze and her movement made the saree cling to her body for a moment. A couple of truck drivers at the next table glanced at her, their eyes lingering.
"Kya maal hai yaar.”
Maa heard the comments but pretended not to notice. She kept her eyes down on her plate, cheeks slightly flushed, and continued eating modestly. She remained completely composed — a proper, elegant woman in front of everyone, including Akash and me.
I felt a sharp stab of guilt mixed with a strange, dark thrill. These strangers were openly talking about my mother’s body in crude but appreciative ways, and I was the one who had created the moment by asking her to get the chutney. Chacha was sitting there with a satisfied smile, clearly enjoying how the game was unfolding.
Akash’s eyes were wide. He looked at me across the table, his face red with arousal and nervousness. His phone vibrated under the table. I checked mine discreetly.
Akash: Yaar… truck wale log teri Maa ke baare mein bol rahe hain. Unki nazar uski kamar pe thi. Main control nahi kar pa raha… bahut hot lag rahi hai woh.
I typed back quickly, my fingers shaking with guilt and excitement.
Me: Haan bhai… main sun raha hoon. Tu dheere se dekh. Yeh mauka hai. Un logon ki baatein sun ke bhi maza aa raha hai na?
Akash: Haan yaar… bahut. Teri Maa ka Pallu jab hila tha… un truck walon ki aankhen khuli reh gayi thi. Tu aur mauka de sakta hai kya?
Chacha noticed everything. He leaned slightly toward Maa and whispered something short in her ear. Maa nodded politely, stood up again to “clear the plates” and take them to the counter. As she walked the short distance, the saree clung to her hips in the breeze. The two truck drivers turned their heads fully this time, watching her openly.
The mustache guy said even louder, “Dekho bhai… chalti hai toh iski gand aur bhi zyada mast hojati hai. Bahut hi lucky hai uska pati.”
The other one whistled softly under his breath. “Agar chance mile toh… bas ek baar baat karne ka mann karta hai.”
Maa returned quickly, sat down, and gave a small, modest smile to no one in particular. She remained elegant and composed, never encouraging the comments or looking at the drivers.
Papa was busy talking to Chacha about the route ahead, completely oblivious to what was happening around the table.
I sat there, heart pounding. The guilt was crushing — my mother was being openly admired and commented on by strangers in a public dhaba, and I was the one helping make it happen. Yet the pimping thrill was stronger than ever. I had brought Akash here, and now even outsiders were noticing Maa because of the small opportunities I created.
Akash texted again, bolder now.
Akash: Yaar… un truck walon ne teri Maa ko itna ghoora. Main soch raha hoon… agar woh aur thoda time yahan baithi rahi toh kya hoga.
Chacha gave me a quick, approving glance from across the table. The game had truly begun.
The dhaba break was supposed to be just for chai and snacks.
But for us, it had become the first real public test of the road trip.
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