Holi ka din Nainital ke usi purane mohalle mein tha jahaan har saal Mangal Milan ka bada mela lagta tha. Ye mela community ki families ko ek saath laata tha — kuch saalo se rang ka use nahi ho raha tha, bas flowers ke colorful gulaal se hi khelte the. Har taraf rangon ki khushboo, holi ke geet, aur hasi-mazak ki awaaz. Papa-mummy ko invitation aaya tha, to hum dono bhai-behen bhi jaana chahte the. Lekin main aur Urvashi Di ne mana kar diya tha. “Papa-mummy ko jaane ka mann nahi hai,” maine bola tha. “Ghar pe hi masti kar lenge. Holi ke rang, gulaal, aur hamesha ki tarah chhup-chhup ke sex. Perfect plan tha.”