The morning buzzed with energy in the hostel kitchen. Large steel plates stacked with freshly rolled puris waited for their turn in the sizzling oil, while the aroma of spiced aaloo sabji filled the air. Laughter and chatter mingled with the sounds of bubbling oil and clanking ladles, everyone pitched in, eager to kick-start the long-awaited trip to Totladoh. With packed tiffins and bags slung over shoulders, the group made their way to Baidyanath Square, where the state transport bus would take them on their adventure. The excitement was palpable as the bus pulled up, its faded red body covered in dust from endless journeys. Seats were quickly claimed, snacks were passed around, and as the engine roared to life, the picnic had truly begun. Just a few minutes into the ride, Anil leaned forward, tapping the bus conductor’s shoulder. “Sir, please stop at Kadbi Chowk, we need to pick up Lata.” The conductor barely glanc...