What do you think is the happiest moment for a school-going teenager? Is it playing with friends? Or when a teacher doesn’t show up to class?
If that’s your answer, let me tell you—you’re wrong.

Those things only seem magical after you’ve graduated.
The real happiness? It comes when the final school bell rings, and you realize—you’re free.
(At least, that’s what it feels like for me and my two best friends.)

By the last period, we’re all drained. School ends around 3 PM, but somehow, we’re always the first ones to bolt. That feeling—no one can put it into words. It’s just pure, silent freedom.

It’s the beginning of summer. The days are long, and a cool breeze flows through our mountain town. Our walk home takes about 45 minutes.

As we stroll, Riku turns to us. “So, what should we do today?”

Kai smirks. “Don’t you know?” he says, in his rival-style tone.

I jump in too. “Yeah Riku, don’t you know?”

Riku groans. “When did you two start making plans without me? That’s a 2 vs 1 situation, you know!”

It’s Saturday, and I say, “Let’s skip the usual routine—video games, tag, and chasing each other around. What if we go camping near the temple—Shrine of Goddess Durga?”

Both of them instantly like the idea. We’ve always been adventurous—nothing excites us more than hiking through dense forests and rugged mountain paths.

After packing essentials and eating around 4 PM, we head out. Our parents were together, chatting and relaxing, enjoying their weekend. They’re having a small get-together—not the kind of party people imagine, but a traditional one: tasty food, herbal drinks, laughter.

They told us, “Okay, go enjoy—but don’t make noise at the temple.”

The shrine is about two hours away by foot, but we’re young and full of energy. We treat the hike like a race and reach in just an hour.

As we approach the temple, a light rain begins to fall. It feels symbolic—like nature reminding us to quiet down.

We remember what our parents told us: the deities in the Himalayan temples are mostly in deep meditation, so it’s important to keep peace and silence.

A narrow stream flows near the temple, surrounded by thick forest. We offer our prayers to Goddess Durga. We placed the flowers we’ve picked at her feet, light incense sticks (Dhūpavarti), a lamp (diya), and ask her to bless all living beings.

We sat and meditated for about half an hour. It was blissful experience—like time slows down just for us.

As the sky begins to darken around 6 PM, we set up our tent on a flat space below the shrine and gather wood for dinner.

Riku, as usual, takes the lead—he’s a great cook. Kai and I are just messing around, teasing him.

“There’s our MasterChef,” I say.

Kai grins. “I don’t even know what he’s cooking, but the guy’s got rizz, look at him!”

We laugh.

Riku rolls his eyes. “Laugh all you want, but you’re eating everything I make—or I’m kicking your asses.”

“Like you can,” I reply with a smirk.

It’s surprisingly delicious—even better than we expected! Though we said, “It’s just the forest and mountain vibes making it taste good,” still teasing him.

The evening flew by. After eating, we crawl into our big shared tent and crash, completely worn out despite the peaceful meditation at the shrine.

Suddenly, around 4 AM, we hear something—like someone is shaking the tent. There's a weird sound too, like it’s trying to scare us.

“Riku… I heard something,”.

“Kai whispers back, “Dude, are you trying to freak us out?”

“No, I’m serious. I heard it too,” I say. My heart pounding.

None of us wanted to step outside. We were pretending to be brave, but honestly, were all scared out of our minds.

I finally gathered some courage. I grabbed a stick and unzip the tent.

Kai and Riku are behind me, acting brave like, “Don’t worry, we’ve got your back” don’t worry we’re supporting you —but their faces give it away.

And what we saw?

A horse.
Just a random horse, quietly munching grass nearby.
Turns out, it was the horse’s tail brushing against our tent that was shaking it.

We burst out laughing, half from relief, half from the absurdity of it all.

The sky is starting to glow softly with the first light of morning. We know we’re safe. The blessings of Devi are with us.

And right then, it hits us again:

This day—this wild, peaceful, funny day—could have been our last. But we lived it well.
So let’s keep living like that—like every day is the last day of our lives.