The Seeker by Karan Bajaj Read Free Book Online Page B

right?”
    Max shook his head.
    “Dude, what kind of American are you? Everyone has seen Breaking Bad,” said Omkara. “You are tall, by the way, freaky tall. What brings you here? No foreigner comes here in winter. The Himalayas let no Yankees in December.”
    Omkara asked the cook to make him an
aloo paratha
, an Indian bread stuffed with potatoes. “And make one for Uncle Sam also,” he said. He turned to Max. “The parathas here are the bomb.”
    “Are you guys from the area?” said Max.
    Shiva nodded. “My village is close to here.”
    “We go to engineering college in Rishikesh but drove up last night to take a break,” said Omkara. “Two months left for graduation yet they persist in teaching bullshit, pretending like they are some great American university or something.”
    Max stared at their black motorcycle jackets and thick biker gloves.
    “You came up that road from Rishikesh on motorcycles? Not a chance,” he said.
    The boys laughed. “We ride motorcycles better than we walk. That’s all we’ve done for four years in college. Up, down, up, down. Otherwise living in Rishikesh is more boring than watching you drink tea,” said Omkara.
    “As boring as Cincinnati,” said Shiva.
    “But how can you drive up that road at night? There isn’t a single streetlight,” said Max.
    “We’ve done it a million times. It’s better. Roads are empty then. There are so many jerks driving in India that your chances are much better against the night than against another idiot driver,” said Omkara.
    The parathas arrived. Max tore the hot bread into pieces and wolfed it down, the spicy potatoes warming him up.
    “You eat like an Indian,” said Omkara.
    Max laughed.
    Omkara removed his black gloves and kept them on the table. A crazy idea struck Max.
    “Can you ride up to Gangotri?” he said.
    Omkara looked up. “Of course. We can go anywhere,” he said.
    “Like right now?”
    They nodded.
    “But why would anyone go up there now?” said Omkara. “You can’t even get a cup of tea there. And the view is the same. Here, there, everywhere, just mountains and snow, what’s there to see? It’s not like we have girlfriends to show pretty scenery to.”
    “Can you drive me up there now?” said Max impulsively.
    Omkara stopped eating. He looked at Shiva, then turned to Max.
    “I knew you were crazy when I saw you smiling by the stove,” said Omkara.
    “Why do you want to go up?” said Shiva. “There is no one there now.”
    Omkara answered for Max. “That’s why, dude, that’s why. Americans love their space and me time and all that mindfulness stuff. You are a tribal. You won’t understand,” he said. “Let’s go, dude, we are up for it. Fucking yeah. What else will we do here all day?”
    Shiva shrugged. “You can ride behind me so you have more space.”
    Fucking yeah. This was really happening. He was going to Gangotri and later he’d hike up to Bhojbasa where the Brazilian doctor lived. A shiver of anticipation went up Max’s spine.
    “You’ll have to get rid of more than half of that crap though,” said Omkara, pointing to Max’s backpack after they finished eating. “Else you’ll both topple over in the first valley.”
    Max hesitated. Every item in the bag was necessary. Knowing he would be hiking, he had scrutinized everything he had put in.
    Omkara walked over and picked up the backpack. “What’s in it, Uncle Sam? No way you’ll need all this stuff in a hundred years,” he said.
    The three of them went through his backpack. Out went the Yoga manual and the Buddha biography he had picked up in Heathrow, the diary, the pens, two hiking pants, three T-shirts, sandals, shorts, swimming trunks, thin socks, malaria pills, a small lock, everything that didn’t serve the purpose of keeping the body warm in the cold.
    “There, that’s a decent backpack,” said Omkara.
    It was half its original size.
    Omkara picked up Max’s swimming trunks from the discard pile. He danced