The Ladoo Traveler Desi spirit, angrezi sensibilities.

“I think it’s time to leave, now.” The desperate emphasis in my friend’s voice cut through the peals of laughter engulfing our table. Half empty beer mugs and still burning cigarette buds littered the course wood table, run down even in the dim amber light. Not for the first time that night we looked over to the table next to us, the man in the navy beanie had been staring this whole time. I hugged myself closer, suddenly chilly and anxious in the musty, smoke filled room. The leisurely atmosphere that had descended upon us, aided tremendously by strong alcohol and senseless banter, quickly evaporated to be replaced by unsteady hands grabbing for keys and haphazardly counting out crumpled Koruna notes. As we made our way between the maze of narrow tables I ventured to look over one last time, just to be sure. Something bitter welled in my mouth as I met his gaze. Relentless intensity, cold and shrewd, made it hard to breathe in the cramped quarters. An uneasy feeling consumed me. Fear; of trouble in an unknown city, of danger marring a week that had otherwise been filled with scintillating conversation, breathtaking views and effortless friendships, left me rooted to the spot.
Suddenly I was painfully aware of my situation. The macabre decor, all disfigured skulls with lewd expressions and giant wrought iron insects, took on a more sinister feel. Blaring music which thus far i had put up with in the spirit of “culture,” dully throbbed at the back of my head making it difficult to think straight. I was in a foreign city, at a seedy hole-in-the-wall, in the middle of the night with company that was as unprepared and unaccustomed to run-ins like these as I was. A spirit of adventure, determination to experience a new city to the fullest, had pushed us all to take refuge in this place despite any apprehension we felt. Our surrounding, dicey as it was, had provided us with warmth on a frigid night and the opportunity for discovery, as some ten students, from at least half as many countries, sat and identified with each other in a way that forced into question all the differences we had preconceived. It was all we needed.
“Sam everyone’s outside waiting for you, move NOW.”
Snapped to the present by the tight grip on my wrist and the authority in the voice I was led towards the exit disoriented. One final look back revealed the man, one eye twitching violently, bent over his bag mouth slightly agape. Clarity dawned, it was just the story we had set out to create.