The Traveller's astrology

It was 3 PM.

Ayyira had just finished her morning shift. She walked into the hall where Ram worked, dropped herself onto the couch, stretched her legs out, leaned back, and rested her hand on her head. The kind of tiredness that did not need words

Ram, sensing her mood, rolled his chair over. “Tough day, huh?” he asked.

“Don’t even ask,” she sighed. “Every time I take a leave, work piles up like a hill of burning files waiting for me.”

Ram offered a gentle smile. “Understood. Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she replied softly. “Love you.”

He quickly returned with a cup and sat beside her. Ayyira leaned into him, slowly sipping the coffee.

“Tell me,” she asked, “are you feeling the same pressure since we got back from Thailand last week?”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Ram conceded. “But it is what it is.”

Ayyira paused, then spoke quietly, “We shouldn’t have gone on that trip. Everything went wrong, exactly as my astrology predicted.”

Ram looked directly into her eyes. “Don’t say that. Yes, Thailand gave us its share of adventures, just like your horoscope warned. But overall, it was a great trip.”

The Trip's 'Hiccups'

Ayyira lifted her head. “We literally had to unpack our luggage next to the railway cargo section and weigh bags in front of everyone. It was so embarrassing.”

“But it helped,” Ram pointed out calmly. “We cut the extra weight. And you saved your favourite Victoria lotion and perfume by giving them to your brother; otherwise, the 100 ml liquid rule would have taken them away. We had completely forgotten about that.”

She frowned. “But I had to leave behind my favourite outfits. I planned those looks.”

“You still charmed in the ones you shortlisted,” Ram replied. “And you owned the dress I gifted you. Even that overlay coat you bought near the Golden Temple suited you.”

"I hated that coat, don't make me remember that moment," she folded her arms, a stubborn pout settling on her face.

"Okay, okay," Ram said, his voice laced with amusement. He gently pulled Ayyira into a hug and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

She tried not to smile.

“And what about the police pulling us over?” she asked, still pretending to be upset.

“Pulled over”, Ram repeated with a grin. “I had only read that phrase online. For a moment, I thought we broke some serious rule. Turns out it was just a license check. The bright side? That tiny fine came with a receipt that became our free pass for the rest of the day. We even saved 500 baht, if you think about it.”

She rolled her eyes but listened.

“And the Tooth Relic Temple?” she continued. “We walked around it more times than most locals probably do in a year. Time restrictions and ticket confusion really tested our patience.”

“But the next morning,” Ram said softly, “when we finally made it inside and that elephant stood waiting at the exit just for you to feed it, that moment made everything worth it.”

Her expression softened. “Yeah. That elephant was really cute.”

She sighed again. “And that 15 km ride that led us nowhere. We ended up at some random monastery far from the city.”

“But we enjoyed smooth roads and empty fast lanes,” Ram replied. “And we got free entry to the Grand Palace. The same place closed for two weeks right after our visit. We were meant to be there.”

She nodded. “I loved that place. But I fell sick during the Phi Phi Islands trip. I planned that one so carefully.”

“And even then,” Ram said proudly, “you poured all your energy into making that reel. It turned out amazing. I am sure you watched it on loop.”

She smiled, then frowned again. “We were so tense about reaching the airport on time. I should have booked a cab earlier.”

“But the Grab I booked last minute turned out to be an upgrade. A full van just for us. I booked a normal cab. The travel gods approved your effort that day.”

“And the domestic flight,” she groaned. “I almost wasted five thousand.”

“We were exhausted,” Ram said, “but you still managed to find a seat on the same flight. And that money you exchanged at the airport saved us. Your budgeting deserves applause.”

Grit, Not Luck

She looked at him. “You are just defending everything to comfort me.”

Ram held her hands, bringing them closer. “Ayyira, whether astrology predicted it or not, these hiccups are what make a trip memorable. Travel is not about perfection. It is about how we handle things when they go wrong.”

He continued, “Look at what you have done. Two international trips in a year. A three-hour flight with a full row to yourself. A speedboat ride despite your fear of water. Even a closed lift you swore you would never take.”

She listened quietly.

“Yes, your astrology said the trip would be full of nuisances,” Ram said. “And yes, it was. But we made it through all of them.”

He stood up and smiled. “Guess which rasi stands beside you. Kumbha. Slow enough to soften any bad omen.”

Ram leaned in and held her face in his palms. “You have always been called lucky. But this trip proved something else. It was not luck that carried you through. It was your grit.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She smiled.

“Here’s to more trips, my wife,” Ram said. “And to many more stories written not by astrology, but by us.”

She laughed. “So what is our next destination?”

Ram rolled his chair back to his desk. “Honestly, all I can afford right now is going back to my work.”

She laughed, walked toward the bedroom, and said, “Wake me in half an hour.”

“There goes a two-hour alarm,” Ram said, shaking his head.

She laughed from the doorway. “Happy wife, happy life, husband.”

#mga