Anvita Kale The wind changed somewhere near Sangamner. It was supposed to be a simple road trip — two nights at an eco-resort near Trimbak, a break from city noise, and an attempt to make memories. But the wind that crossed the ghats that morning smelled like dust, wet leaves, and something else Meera couldn’t name. She rolled down her window as their black Mahindra XUV curved along the old Nashik–Pune highway, her sari end fluttering like a tired flag. The car was filled with laughter and the crackle of a Bluetooth speaker, but Meera was silent. “What’s wrong?” Vikrant…