road trips are fun, longs enough to make yourself realize your resistance towards sleep and comes out to be short when road trip songs are being played. Mostly kk and Pritam. As it’s afternoon so playing these songs make sense. Glass all rolled up and the background noise of the air conditioner cooling us all up in this heart melting heat. The shops and dhabas on the way feels like the little check point in our race against time, and when the sun starts setting and the sky turns pink, the playlist takes a u turn and romance showers upon the car. From kk and Pritam to Arijit and Kishor, now looking out from the window will take you on another trip inside your mind. Past relationships present crush you say it and it’s already been covered in this trip, the mistake you made, the mistakes 9 are making and the mistake you’ll potentially going to make and all their respective consequences plus the voice of Kishor dada makes up the missing salt in the dish. Now as this sky turns pitch black, the headlights are turned on, the mobile brightness is turned at its lowest and now the songs sound way to relatable for some reason. Now it’s time for the ghazals of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Mohammad Rafi, eating the snacks and watching the world move behind from my resting car. The eyes are now heavy and the mind is now numb with all the overthinking and analysis, the calming voice of Mohammed Rafi, soothing the mind and a gentle touch of sleep touch the skin. The breath is finally at a normal pace, the heart at a normal rhythm. matching with the tablas in the ghazal. The home is close, closer than ever and nothing has changed except for me, the separation between me and myself before the trip is more than that of me from my home. Now I never wanted this to end, as papa turned off the car the ghazal stopped midway. pin drop silence filled the car, the thoughts that blurred my mind suddenly snapped away. i closed the door behind and I am not myself anymore.