"Can I ask you something?" Aarav said, seemingly to no one.
"Are you looking around, confused? Yes, I'm talking to you."
He floated gently, suspended mid-air, the world far below. Clouds passed lazily beside him, as if time itself had slowed down just to watch. His arms dangled at his sides, not flapping or striving to stay aloft. He wasn't flying—he was just... there.
"Tell me," he continued, his voice as clear as if he were standing beside you, "have you ever seen a boy float in the sky like this? I bet not. The closest you've come is folding a paper airplane and watching it dive-bomb your friend's head in class, right?"
Aarav smiled faintly.
"Well, let me pass the time by telling you how this all began. Because, honestly? I have no idea how long I'll be up here or where I'll end up. So, sit tight. Here's what happened next..."
Flashback: August 17, 2015 | 7:00 AM | Devika International School, Jhunjhunu
A large crimson quadrangle lay at the center of the school, its tiled ground glinting in the early sunlight. A tall tree stood at the front, its shade partially covering the area where the staff in charge of morning activities waited. Students lined up in rows by class, the youngest at the front, the eldest at the back. Teachers stood flanking the formation, quietly maintaining order.
A young girl from Class 3 clutched a microphone nervously, her pigtails bouncing as she began reciting a Hindi poem. Her voice trembled at first but grew stronger as she went on. Everyone stood in 'vishram' position—feet apart, hands behind their backs—listening patiently.
Amit shifted his weight from one leg to another, whispering to the boy beside him, "Who even made this rule? Morning prayers at seven... seriously?"
"Why don't you go ask them?" Ishaan quipped without turning.
Amit rolled his eyes and looked away. "Save your sarcasm, genius."
Aarav, a few lines ahead, stared ahead but his mind wandered. Why do they always conduct prayers in front of that huge tree? Why not somewhere with more breeze? He kept his thoughts to himself, though his face reflected mild annoyance.
As the poem ended, a light wave of applause spread across the field. The staff member hosting the prayer took back the mic and began to speak, but before he could start, a teacher approached him and whispered something.
He nodded and announced, "Our Principal, Jaya Pathak Ma'am, will now address the assembly."
Students murmured quietly, their attention diverted. A few exchanged hopeful looks, praying it wouldn't be a long speech. Meanwhile, a teacher walked briskly toward the administrative block.
Ten minutes later, Principal Ma'am emerged in a graceful green saree, heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. She stepped up to the mic, adjusted it slightly, and greeted, "Good morning, students."
"Good morning, Ma'am!" came the collective, thunderous response.
"Listen carefully. Tomorrow, on the 18th, those students who submitted their names to their class teachers will be going on the Jodhpur educational trip."
A wave of murmurs swept across the lines. Some students looked elated. Others whispered in regret for having missed the deadline.
"Every class teacher, make sure your students arrive on campus by 6:00 AM sharp," she continued. "The buses will depart from here to the Jhunjhunu railway station."
"Yes, Ma'am," the teachers responded in unison.
"Upon arrival in Jodhpur, you'll be assigned four buses—two for girls, two for boys. The bus drivers will already be in contact with our logistics team there."
She paused, then turned to address one of the senior staff. "Discipline Incharge, Mr. Sandeep Huda, ensure all students stay in line. No wandering off."
"Understood, Ma'am," he said, adjusting his walkie-talkie.
"Volunteers, you will be assigned to your groups. Keep an eye on your students and do not allow anyone to stray. Is that clear?"
A sharp voice rose from the side, "Yes, Ma'am!" It came from Riya Sharma, the volunteer leader, dressed neatly in her distinct uniform.
Aarav watched them all closely. Volunteers were a big deal at Devika International. Only 10th-grade students with 85% and above were chosen. They were known as "Elite Students," marked by custom badges and a different uniform. They had authority and were seen as role models.
"Man, they get all the fun," Ishaan muttered.
"Seriously. We pay for the trip, and they enjoy it like royalty," Amit added.
Aarav looked ahead with quiet resolve. One day... I'll wear that uniform. I'll earn that badge.
Currently in Class 8, he still had two years to go, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.
The assembly wrapped up with a short school anthem. Classes were dismissed shortly after with a note about early departure the next day.
But even as the crowd thinned and chatter filled the hallways, none of them could have guessed that by this time tomorrow, Aarav would be missing...
And floating miles above.
The morning assembly had concluded. The sun was already warm against the red-brick walls of Devika International School, and students made their way to their respective classrooms in a neat, practiced line. The corridors buzzed with quiet murmurs and restrained excitement—the Jodhpur trip had everyone talking.
It was 7:15 AM. Time for the first class of the day: Mathematics.
Inside Class 8A, the atmosphere was shifting from orderly silence to barely-contained chatter. The students knew who was coming. Their class teacher and mathematics instructor, Mrs. Jyoti Shekhawat, was strict but fair—and surprisingly fun when she wanted to be.
The door clicked open.
"Good morning, ma'am!" the students chorused, rising from their seats in a wave of uniformity.
"Good morning, students. Please be seated," Jyoti ma'am said, offering a gentle smile as she placed her bag on the desk. Her sari swayed slightly as she moved, the green border catching light from the windows.
She sat down gracefully, pulled out her attendance register, and flipped it open. Her fingers searched for a pen, and with a swift stroke of blue ink, she began calling out names.
"Aarav?"
Aarav, who was sitting on the front bench today, suddenly straightened up. Normally he would be somewhere in the back, but today the seating had changed. Jyoti ma'am had recently introduced a rotating seating plan to break up friend groups and give everyone a chance to sit up front.
"Do I say 'Yes, ma'am'? Or just 'Present, ma'am'? Or should I say 'Good morning'?" Aarav thought in a flurry of nerves. His fingers curled slightly, then relaxed.
After a brief pause, he blurted, "Yes, ma'am!"
The class giggled.
Jyoti ma'am looked over the rim of her glasses. "Well, that was... enthusiastic. Noted," she said, a playful twinkle in her eyes.
Aarav turned pink. Ishan, sitting behind him, leaned forward and whispered, "Bro, that was a power move. Very presidential."
Jyoti ma'am continued, calling out more names. The attendance routine rolled smoothly until she closed the register and placed it gently aside.
"Alright, time to open your math books," she announced.
"But ma'am," whined Sneha from the second row, her voice half teasing, "we're going on a trip tomorrow. Can't we just relax a bit today? Maybe talk about what to pack or something fun?"
A few more students chimed in, echoing her suggestion. "Yes, ma'am! Let this be a trip-prep session!"
"A math-free zone!" exclaimed Amit dramatically.
"Is that so?" Jyoti ma'am raised an eyebrow, amused. "So, the plan is to stop learning just because you all are going on a seven-day joyride?"
"It's not a joyride, ma'am," Aarav said with mock seriousness. "It's an educational expedition into the heritage of Rajasthan."
The class burst out laughing. Even Jyoti ma'am couldn't hold back her smile.
"Well, Mr. Heritage Explorer, I admire your spirit. But even explorers need basic arithmetic. You'll have to calculate how much money you've spent on snacks, won't you?"
"That's what friends are for, ma'am. They do the math, and I enjoy the samosas," quipped Ishan.
"Ishan, remind me to put you in charge of budgeting for the entire trip," Jyoti ma'am said, laughing. "Let's see how long your snack fund lasts."
"I resign," Ishan said quickly, pretending to pack his imaginary briefcase.
Laughter rippled again through the room.
Jyoti ma'am walked over to the whiteboard and wrote in large letters: Word Problems: Travel Edition.
"Since you all are in the mood for a vacation, let's mix it up," she said. "We'll do math with a travel twist today."
"Yes!" Aarav pumped a fist. "Adventure math!"
The next few minutes were filled with playful groans and laughter as Jyoti ma'am crafted math questions that included trains to Jodhpur, snack budgets, group seat arrangements, and even calculating distances between tourist spots.
"If Aarav eats 3 kachoris in 10 minutes and there are 5 food stalls on the trip, how many kachoris will he consume before lunch?"
"Fifteen!" Aarav shouted.
"And a stomachache," Sneha added.
"That's called a practical application of mathematics," Jyoti ma'am chuckled.
As the class went on, the mood was light and joyous. It felt less like a typical math class and more like a lively group discussion. For once, equations didn't seem intimidating. They were tied to real experiences the students were looking forward to.
Time ticked by, unnoticed.
When the bell finally rang, students didn't rush out. They lingered, still caught up in the wave of enthusiasm. Jyoti ma'am clapped her hands gently to gather their attention.
"Okay, okay. Class dismissed. But remember, tomorrow at 6:00 AM sharp, be at the school gate. Trip or not, punctuality is a sign of discipline."
"Yes, ma'am!" the chorus rang out.
Aarav lingered a second longer than most. As he packed his bag, he glanced at the whiteboard and whispered to himself, "Tomorrow's going to be special. I can feel it."
He had no idea just how right he was.
The excitement of the Jodhpur trip had spread like wildfire through the corridors of Devika International School. Not a single student from Class 8A seemed interested in studying that day. The air buzzed with anticipation, and the thought of learning anything new was met with groans and pleas for leniency. Surprisingly, even the teachers, sensing the infectious enthusiasm, chose to go easy. Instead of rigid lessons, they wove storytelling and light-hearted conversations into their classes, bonding with the students over shared excitement.
Everyone was seated when the final bell rang, echoing through the building like a signal of freedom. It was officially the end of the school day. The students sprang to their feet, bags swinging onto shoulders in one smooth motion.
"I'm coming over this evening," Ishan said, turning to Aarav with a grin.
"Okay, but what time exactly?" Aarav asked, adjusting the straps of his bag.
"Why? You got plans this evening or what?" Ishan raised an eyebrow.
"Not really, but Dad said he'd take me to the store this evening to buy something special," Aarav replied.
"Your dad owns a clothing showroom, right? So why go anywhere else?" Ishan asked, genuinely curious.
"Exactly! We'll be going to his own store. I'll pick out something I like and wear it during the Jodhpur trip. Gotta look stylish when we roam the forts, right?" Aarav smirked.
"Nice," Ishan nodded approvingly. "Alright, I'll be at your place around 5:30."
With that, the two friends stepped out of class. The class monitor stayed back, switching off the fans and lights before securing the classroom door behind her.
In the school parking lot, the boys picked up their cycles and pedaled off toward home, the afternoon sun casting golden shadows across the road.
By 5:00 PM, Aarav was in the backyard, tossing a ball for his playful six-month-old dog, Tom. The garden shimmered in the soft evening light, and Tom barked joyfully each time he caught the ball mid-air.
"Monu, your friend is here," called Kanika Verma, Aarav's mother, from the veranda.
Aarav glanced toward the house, brushing grass off his sleeves. "Already? He said 5:30." He murmured to himself, mildly surprised.
"Alright, Mom. Ask him to come to the backyard," Aarav replied.
A minute later, Ishan stepped into the backyard, a cheerful grin on his face.
"Dude, you're early," Aarav remarked. "You said 5:30. What happened?"
"I went shopping with Mom," Ishan said, shrugging. "We were out for some groceries, and I thought, 'Since I'm already halfway here, why not drop in early?' So I told her I'd go straight to your place."
"Good thinking," Aarav nodded. "Come on, help me tire out Tom. He's been bursting with energy since morning."
The two friends spent the next hour chatting, tossing the ball for Tom, and discussing what they were most looking forward to on the trip. The desert safari, camel rides, the famous Rajasthani thali—they couldn't wait.
"Have you packed yet?" Aarav asked.
"Kind of," Ishan replied. "But I keep second-guessing what to bring. Mom packed some of my stuff, but you know me—I'll still forget something."
"Don't worry. Between the two of us, we'll have everything covered. Besides, it's not the packing that makes the trip. It's the stories we bring back."
They both laughed, unaware of how true those words would soon become.
As the sun dipped low behind the houses, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose, the boys finally went inside. The day had ended, but tomorrow—tomorrow was the beginning of something unforgettable.