No more vaccations!

We went out of stock at around 10 pm. I had made a mistake of assuming that this much alcohol would be enough for all when I was purchasing booze from a liquor shop in the evening. Now since I was the mood spoiler, I was sent again to get more stock for the entire night. The nearest liquor shop from our hotel was also atleast 15 kilometers away. Our hotel at the Jim Corbett National park was a beauty and hence even though it was quite far off from the nearest shops of daily needs, we agreed to put up there for the weekend trip. We were a group of 4 and except me all were extremely dynamic and talented in their own right.
Sohail is a terrific photographer; camera looked a part of his body now to us. Needless to say, this trip would be orgasmic to him. To capture wildlife was like Christmas to him, it meant a grand feast. His zoom lens was more precious to him than his girlfriend. He was so accustomed to using his camera that even he was not; he would close his right eye and look with his left at a thing as if focusing his camera for a crystal picture. Chinmoy is a typical Bengali. He would roam around everywhere in a kurta and jeans, with a khadi bag hanging from one of his shoulders, listening to hindustani classical music on his walkman and admiring it in a peculiar way which would be embarrassing for his friends at public places. He is the most non gutsy creature I have known, although he is extremely keen on travelling every now and then. And yes, he is the most avid drinker among all of us. His intestine had gone for a toss by now with liters of hard boiled tea from tea stalls in the mornings and old monk rum with water in the nights. Kartik, an aspiring model is the only lady killer we have in our group. There isn’t much in his grey matter, but who cares as long as he is the only source for us of any contact with a group of girls wherever we go. Apart from this, there’s not much about him to be mentioned. I am still jobless at 25, now on the verge of losing my cool and getting into perennial depression if things don’t work out. I was an English honors student in my graduation, but did not complete my degree. I had started working with a BPO which consumed most of my time, and since I was earning, I preferred this over studying literature. After a couple of years of stagnancy, I could not stand my job any more as there was no growth in my job profile and salary. This made me resign. Since then I’ve been trying to find out what I should be doing. I had stated writing a novel, but I haven’t developed it further after a stage due to lack of plot points.
Kartik, Sohail and Chinmoy were extremely pissed with me, and hence there was no choice for me apart from going back to purchase liquor again that late in the night. I took my motorcycle, kick started it began my way to the liquor shop. Since I had been there in the evening, it shouldn’t have been difficult to find my way, even though it was pitch dark now. The only source of light on the road was the headlight of my Royal Enfield, even the moon was missing. It was awkwardly breezy as the cool vector air found its way through the gaps of the shielding glass of my helmet in front of my eyes, drying and cracking my lips, making it itch irritatingly. I licked my lips repeatedly with my tongue to keep it wet, but the itch increased as soon as it dried again, almost burning now. I tried concentrating on the dark hilly road, and drove at a safe speed. I had covered more than half the distance, when I noticed a man standing around 300 meters away, with a white polythene bag in his left hand. He made a gesture with his right hand as I got nearer to him, and I understood that he was looking for a ride. I halted and asked him to sit at the back seat, while he informed that it would be great if I could drop him at a bus stand near the city. He kept his right hand on my right shoulder to balance, and kept holding the polythene bag with his left. There was no effort from either of us to start a conversation, and though the silence seemed natural, it was eerie. Riding my Enfield had never been so uncomfortable before, the cold got to me so much that I was shivering now continuously. The man behind me was……wait a second……..where was the man? I noticed there was no hand on my shoulder now, and then I turned back to see that the backseat was empty. I was still riding till then, and then I stopped and looked at the road behind. There was no trace of him. I wondered whether I was shivering so heavily that the man actually got unbalanced and fell of the bike. I turned my bike around and now started moving towards my hotel, searching for the man. For a long time I could not spot him, but now yes, I could, he was there, right there, from where I had picked him up at the first place. I went near him and stopped. He wasn’t looking at me. The polythene bag was still in his left hand. Asked him how was he here again? He turned his face towards me, the wind blew my helmet away, I could see his jaws right till his ears, his skin burnt as ash, and a hollow in place of his eyes. His smile creaked in my ears as he floated away in the jungle, disappearing within seconds. I could not get alcohol, and went straight to my hotel after this. By the time I reached my room, I was shouting with immense chest pain. My friends rushed towards me, took me to my bed and called for a doctor. I was hospitalized immediately after that, due to a heart stroke.