The ceiling fans whirred lazily above the crowded platform of Patna Junction. The smell of hot samosas mixed with the smoky scent of chai stalls, and the announcement system crackled with half-broken words about trains arriving late.
Rahul Verma shifted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, scanning the length of the platform. His eyes shone with an energy that only an eighteen-year-old, about to leave home for the first time, could have. Today wasn't just the start of college; it was the start of freedom.
His mother had cried all morning, pressing packets of homemade thekua into his bag, and his father had given one last lecture about discipline and focus. But Rahul wasn't thinking about discipline. He was thinking about Delhi—lights, independence, and the promise of adventures that were far bigger than his small town in Bihar.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
Rahul turned to find a boy standing beside him with a ticket in hand. He was lean, wearing spectacles that made him look slightly serious, but his eyes carried a certain sharpness.
"No, bro. Sit down," Rahul replied, sliding his bag aside. "Where are you headed?"
"Delhi. First day of college. Computer science," the boy said, adjusting his glasses as he placed his suitcase under the bench.
Rahul's eyebrows shot up. "Arre wah! Same here. CSE. Which college?"
"Delhi Institute of Technology," the boy answered with a small smile. "I'm Satyam Singh, from Gaya."
Rahul laughed in surprise. "Bas? I'm Rahul Verma, from Patna! Same branch, same college. Kya coincidence hai!"
The platform noise seemed to fade as the two boys leaned forward, curiosity sparking instantly.
"So, first time leaving home?" Rahul asked.
Satyam nodded. "Yeah. My father was hesitant at first, but… this is the only way. And you?"
"My parents think I'll become some big engineer," Rahul grinned. "But honestly? I just want to live freely for once. No one watching over me, no one asking where I'm going, who I'm meeting. Delhi's going to be… different."
Satyam chuckled, a little nervously. "You sound like you're planning more adventures than studies."
"Studies will happen, dost. But college isn't just about books. It's about stories we'll tell for the rest of our lives."
Before Satyam could respond, the shrill whistle of the train cut through the air. Passengers rushed forward, dragging luggage, shouting instructions. Rahul grabbed his bag, his heart racing—not just for the journey ahead, but for the bond already forming.
As they climbed into the coach and found their berths, Rahul felt a sudden certainty. He had come alone, but he was no longer alone. Delhi awaited them, and with it, the beginning of everything.
The train rattled to life, wheels grinding against the tracks as Patna slowly blurred into the distance. Inside the coach, the air was heavy with the scent of iron and the constant chatter of passengers settling into their journeys.
Rahul stretched out on the lower berth, his voice carrying above the rumble. "So, Satyam bhai, what's your plan? Be the class topper? Coding 24x7?"
Satyam adjusted his glasses and smirked. "Maybe. Someone has to balance out people like you who only want freedom."
Rahul laughed, tossing a packet of peanuts onto the berth. "Fair enough. But you wait and watch—I'll become famous in college. Seniors will remember my name."
"Either for brilliance or for trouble," Satyam muttered, though his lips curved into a smile.
The conversation flowed easily. They spoke of their hometowns, of strict parents, of how Delhi felt like another world entirely. Every bump of the train seemed to push them closer, strangers turning into friends.
As night deepened, the coach lights dimmed. Families huddled together, and the lull of the train wrapped everything in a strange calm. Rahul wasn't sleepy, though. His mind buzzed with the possibilities of the future.
"Do you ever feel," he asked quietly, "like this is the last time we're just… boys? That once we step into college, life won't be the same again?"
Satyam hesitated, then nodded. "I think about that. Maybe that's what makes this moment special."
The words lingered in the air like a silent promise.
By the time the train screeched into Delhi the next morning, exhaustion clung to them, but excitement burned brighter. The city hit them like a wave—honks, chaos, endless crowds, and an energy unlike anything back home.
Finding their way to campus felt like stepping into a movie. The massive gates, the buzzing canteens, the endless chatter of students—it was overwhelming and liberating all at once.
That was where they first saw Deep Shekhawat.
He was leaning casually against a pillar near the hostel registration desk, spinning his hostel key on his finger like it was some prized possession. His hair was slightly messy, his grin mischievous. When Rahul and Satyam introduced themselves, he slapped their backs as if they were already childhood friends.
"Rajasthan ka sher, Deep Shekhawat," he declared dramatically. "Welcome to freedom, brothers! Here, no parents, no rules—only adventure."
They laughed, instantly charmed.
And later that evening, as they unpacked in the hostel, another boy entered quietly—Raghav Roy. He was tall, reserved, with eyes that observed more than they spoke. He introduced himself simply, "Raghav, Ranchi."
He didn't joke like Deep or argue like Rahul. But there was something steady about him, something that made the others instinctively include him. By the end of the week, the four of them were inseparable.
Late-night canteen talks, first crushes, ragging from seniors, and coding classes filled their days. Delhi became their playground, and they, finally free from home, explored every corner—sometimes recklessly, sometimes wisely.
And when the first year drew to a close, the idea was born.
"A trip," Rahul suggested one evening in the mess. "A bachelor trip. Somewhere far. Somewhere wild."
Deep's eyes sparkled instantly. "Sikkim. Mountains, adventure, girls."
Satyam rolled his eyes, but even he couldn't hide his excitement. Raghav only smiled faintly, as though he knew this trip would change everything.
The plan was set. The journey had only just begun.
The boys were buzzing with excitement as they hauled their backpacks into the Howrah–New Jalpaiguri Express. Delhi had already changed them in ways they couldn't have imagined—late-night coding marathons, messy hostel life, small crushes, and endless fights over who'd skip morning classes. Now, after their first year, they were setting out for the trip that Rahul had once described as "the real beginning of freedom."
The train compartment smelled of iron and chai, filled with families, college kids, and vendors shouting "chai, samosa, pani bottle!" Rahul threw his bag onto the upper berth and grinned. "Boys, this is it. Our first official bachelor trip. Mark my words, years from now we'll remember this train more than our exams."
Deep flopped onto the seat below him. "I already remember this more than exams. Who cares about operating systems when the Himalayas are calling?"
Satyam, ever the practical one, shook his head. "Let's just hope you remember to carry enough clothes this time. Last semester trip, you wore the same T-shirt for three days."
The others burst into laughter as Deep made an exaggerated bow. "Guilty as charged. But don't worry—this time I packed extra deodorant. Problem solved."
Even Raghav chuckled softly, leaning by the window, his gaze drifting out toward the fading lights of Delhi. There was always a thoughtful distance in his eyes, as if he carried secrets he wasn't ready to share.
Hours slipped by in chatter, jokes, and sharing food. Rahul and Deep were the loudest, Satyam tried to keep some order, and Raghav, though quieter, always added something sharp at the right moment.
It was sometime after dinner, when the coach had quieted a little, that the boys noticed her.
A girl had boarded at Kanpur, and now she sat across the aisle, a book in her lap. She wasn't overdressed—just a simple kurti, hair tied neatly—but there was something about her presence that caught attention. Calm, confident, and… different.
Rahul nudged Satyam with his elbow. "Look there."
Satyam glanced and immediately frowned. "Don't start."
"I'm not starting. I'm observing," Rahul whispered, eyes gleaming. "She's from the Northeast, I can bet."
Deep leaned in. "Forget betting, bhai. Seniors told me girls from Sikkim are super chill. Maybe destiny has seated her here for us."
Satyam rolled his eyes. "You guys will never change."
But even he couldn't help noticing that she smiled faintly to herself as she read, as if aware of the boys' not-so-subtle glances.
Finally, Rahul couldn't resist. He leaned forward with his most confident grin. "Hi. Long journey, huh?"
The girl looked up, surprised but not annoyed. Her eyes were sharp, assessing, before she replied softly, "Yes. Till New Jalpaiguri."
The boys exchanged quick looks—jackpot.
"You too? Same destination," Rahul said quickly. "We're heading to Sikkim after that. College trip. First time."
She tilted her head. "Oh? I'm from Gangtok. But I study nursing in Delhi."
Deep clutched his chest dramatically. "Gangtok? Destiny confirmed! We're literally going home with you."
The girl laughed lightly, and the ice broke.
Her name was Meera Lepcha. Over the next few hours, conversation flowed—about her life in Delhi, about Sikkim's hidden beauty, about how Delhi students often underestimated mountain people. Rahul asked most of the questions, Deep cracked the jokes, Satyam tried not to look too interested but secretly was, and Raghav mostly listened, his eyes never leaving her face as if measuring every word.
When Meera mentioned the old monasteries and the stories of spirits that lingered in the valleys, the boys laughed nervously. But her tone carried a seriousness that made the air shift for just a moment.
"You'll see," she said softly, her gaze turning distant. "Sikkim isn't just mountains. Sometimes… the mountains see you back."
The boys exchanged uneasy glances, but Rahul, never one to let silence win, quickly grinned. "Perfect. Then we'll go meet the mountains ourselves."
Meera smiled, but her eyes lingered on Raghav's, just for a second longer than necessary.
The night deepened, the train rushed forward, and for the first time, the trip felt like more than just fun. It felt like the beginning of something unknown.
By dawn, the train was cutting through greener landscapes. The loud chaos of Delhi and Uttar Pradesh had faded into quieter stretches of fields, small towns, and rivers that shimmered under the rising sun. The coach smelled faintly of morning chai as vendors shuffled past, calling out in half-asleep voices.
Rahul rubbed his eyes, stretching. Across from him, Meera sat by the window, the sunlight catching strands of her hair. She had dozed off at some point, her book still in her lap. Satyam noticed Rahul staring and gave him a small kick under the berth.
Rahul grinned shamelessly. "What? Just appreciating Sikkim's natural beauty early."
Deep burst out laughing, nearly spilling his tea, while Raghav only shook his head and muttered, "You'll get us into trouble one day."
When Meera woke, she seemed amused at how quickly the boys tried to act casual. She accepted the cup of tea Satyam shyly offered, and the conversation resumed. They spoke about the semester gone by—ragging, late-night hostel cricket, the horror of mid-sems—and Meera teased them for being so obviously newbies at Delhi life.
But it wasn't just small talk anymore. With every stop the train made, with every burst of laughter, the invisible line between strangers and friends grew thinner. Rahul told stories of his strict father in Patna, Satyam confessed his fear of failing in coding labs, Deep entertained everyone with exaggerated hostel dramas, and Raghav asked quiet, thoughtful questions that seemed to surprise Meera.
At one point, she leaned slightly toward him. "You listen more than you speak. Why?"
Raghav's lips curved into a faint smile. "Because words reveal more when you're quiet."
For a second, Meera's playful expression softened, as though she sensed something deeper in him.
The train finally screeched into New Jalpaiguri by afternoon. The platform bustled with porters, tourists, and the heavy scent of diesel mixed with fried snacks. The boys hopped down, stretching their legs, while Meera adjusted her backpack.
"This is where we part ways," she said. "My uncle is meeting me."
Rahul quickly blurted, "But we're going to Gangtok too. Maybe we'll see you again?"
Meera gave a small smile. "Maybe. Sikkim is small… but not that small."
She turned to leave, but before stepping off, she paused. Her eyes flickered between the four of them, settling briefly on Raghav again.
"Enjoy your trip. But remember—sometimes the mountains test you before they let you in."
Her words hung in the air, strangely heavy, as she disappeared into the crowd.
For a long moment, the boys stood silently, the noise of NJP swirling around them. Then Deep clapped his hands loudly. "Adventure unlocked! Boys, we just made our first local contact."
Rahul laughed, tension broken. "Exactly. Sikkim, here we come!"
But Raghav's eyes lingered on the direction Meera had gone, his expression unreadable. Something in her tone had felt less like a warning and more like a truth.
The four friends stepped off the platform together, unaware that the trip they thought would be all fun and freedom was about to lead them into shadows deeper than they had ever imagined.