Late evening. Mumbai slums.
Nawaz folded the last of his shirts, stuffing it into a faded black backpack. Beside him, a half-eaten packet of Parle-G and an old Nokia buzzed once before dying again.
Balraj? Fast asleep again. Arms wide, one leg hanging off the cot, snoring like a truck downshifting in reverse.
Nawaz (yelling):
"Snorlax! Uth ja, nahi toh mai teri bina shave wali mooh pe thook dega!"
(Snorlax! Wake up, or I'll gonna spit on your unshaved face!)
Balraj (groaning):
"Bhai… ek aur minute. Sapne me Katrina thi…"
(Bro… one more minute. Katrina was in my dream…)
Nawaz (grabbing a chappal):
"Katrina bhi darr ke bhaag gayi hogi! Chal, packing kar. Goa sirf tourist spot nahi hai ab – kal ka stopover hai. Parso subah Mangaluru."
(Even Katrina must've run away scared! Come on, pack up. Goa isn't just a tourist spot now – it's tomorrow's stopover. The day after tomorrow, Mangaluru.)
Balraj (sitting up, stretching):
"Mangaluru jaane ke liye Goa rukna… sahi hai bhai. Full VIP route lag raha."
(Stopping at Goa to go to Mangaluru… sounds damn VIP.)
Later. On the road. Scorpio.
The black Scorpio rolled onto the highway, its headlights cutting through fog and dust. Mumbai's chaos faded behind them, replaced by quiet fields and sleepy villages.
Balraj (adjusting rearview mirror):
"Bhai… tune bola Goa me sirf rest karna hai. Pakka koi strip club ka chakkar nahi?"
(You said we're stopping just to rest in Goa. You sure it's not about strip clubs?)
Nawaz (grinning):
"Bhai, yeh Goa trip nahi hai, college picnic nahi. Mangaluru mein urgent kaam hai. Goa bas ek stop hai. Shaam tak rest karte hain, phir seedha Mangaluru."
(Bro, this isn't some Goa trip or a college picnic. We've got urgent work in Mangaluru, dude. Goa's just a stop. We'll rest till evening, then head straight to Mangaluru.)
Balraj (chuckling):
"Mujhe laga tu mujhe party dikhane le jaa raha hai… bhai ne toh truck driver bana diya."
(I thought you were taking me to party… but bro just turned me into a truck driver.)
Nawaz:
"Tere jaise driver ko toh truck bhi mana kar dega – 'Main nahi chalata iske saath!'"
(A driver like you? Even a truck would refuse — "I won't drive with him!")
Balraj (mock offended):
"Abe tu jaanta nahi, meri driving mein itna swag hai ki Google Maps bhi mujhse direction leta hai!"
(You don't know — my driving has so much swag even Google Maps asks me for directions!)
Nawaz (laughs):
"Bas chal chup! Zyada hawa bhar gaya toh Scorpio ud jaayegi."
(Shut up! If you inflate yourself more, the Scorpio will fly.)
Midnight. Highway silence.
The road stretched endlessly ahead. Balraj hummed some old Punjabi beat, but Nawaz's eyes turned distant.
Nawaz (serious tone):
"Tu sochta hai kabhi… ke hum kya ban gaye hai? Baccho ka sapna kya yeh tha?"
(Do you ever think… what have we become? Was this a child's dream?)
Balraj (quiet):
"Sapne toh maa ke haath ki roti jaisa hota hai… sabko milta nahi. Aur jinke sapne churaaye jaate hain, woh log darr nahi banate – badla ban jaate hain."
(Dreams are like a mother's handmade bread… not everyone gets them. And those whose dreams are stolen, they don't become fear — they become revenge.)
Nawaz:
"Sahi bola. Mangaluru ka call ajeeb tha… par us awaaz me sach tha."
(You're right. That Mangaluru call was strange… but it had truth in its voice.)
Balraj:
"Toh chalte hain bhai. Goa aaj raat, Mangaluru subah. Par warning de deta hoon — agar Goa me beach dikha, toh thoda chill karne do."
(Then let's go bro. Goa tonight, Mangaluru tomorrow. But let me warn you — if we see a beach, I'm chilling a bit.)
Nawaz (smirking):
"Bas kisi bikini waali se line na maar dena, warna Mangaluru me direct samundar mein fek doonga."
(Just don't flirt with anyone in a bikini, or I'll toss you straight into the Mangaluru sea.)
They laughed again, the Scorpio cruising under a half-moon sky. The road to Goa was long, but the night had just begun