'But are you sure you will be able to do this?'
'Yes! Yes! I mean will WE be able to …?'
'Oh Boy! I can't believe this. You have such guts. I would love to do this …'
'Thrilling! But what if we get caught?'
'Neeru? She will help us? Great! Your little sister rocks yaar.'
'All right, done. Let's do this in half an hour. You can call my cab right now.'
Thrilled and anxious because of her (I mean my college friend's) call, I returned to the drawing
room. Everything was the same there—the environment, the talk and the people—but all of a sudden I
wanted the time to pass quickly. I was excited about the plan (which also involved Neeru) that Khushi
and I had just discussed. I kept wondering if we could really do it.
4.10 p.m.
To put our plan into action, we were waiting for Pushkar and Ami di's departure.
Every now and then, one of us would look at the wall clock or a wristwatch. That and a few quiet
moments made them realize they were getting late. And …
Bingo!
Pushkar got up and said, looking at Ami di, 'I think we are getting late.'
Hearing that, Neeru looked at me with her twinkling eyes and I looked at Khushi. The three of us
were ready for action.
4.12 p.m.
'Mumma! I have to leave for IMS,' Neeru said, like a kid who doesn't really want to do something.
'IMS?? Now? But you don't have classes in the evening na?' her mother asked.
'There is a doubt-clarification session today. Khushi also has a class. Ask her …'
'You also have to go?' Mumma asked Khushi.
'Class to hai, but I won't go if you don't want me to,' Khushi replied.
Meanwhile, I rushed in with my lines, 'No, no, I think you should go ahead with your class. Even I
have to leave soon. A few minutes back, one of my college friends from Delhi called up and he wants
to see me. I can't ignore him.'
Pushkar asked, 'How will you girls go then? Do you want me to drop you?'
Khushi replied immediately, 'No, Pushkar. You guys go ahead. IMS is in a totally opposite
direction from where you are going. We will manage.'
4.15 p.m.
Things were going as per plan when Pushkar asked me, 'Ravin, how will you go back to Delhi?'
'Oh, I had called up a cab. I think it's there, outside,' I answered him, walking towards the door and
looking out to confirm.
Looking at her sisters, Ami di said, 'Well, in that case, Ravin can drop you at IMS. It's on his way.'
And this was what we wanted to hear.
Ami di looked at me and I pretended that I didn't know. 'Oh! IMS will be falling on my way? In
that case I can drop you,' I turned towards her sisters. It was getting hard to control our smiles,
especially when everything was going as planned.'You won't have any problem na?' Neeru asked.
And in my heart, I said, 'Come on! Don't overdo it, dumbo.' Aloud, I said, 'Oh come on! What
problem can I have, in giving a lift to two gorgeous ladies? The pleasure will be mine.' I looked at
everybody and smiled.
Khushi rushed to her room and came back in ten minutes, having changed. She looked stunning in
her black top and white denim. She started moving from one room to another in search of her sandals.
Still busy with her dressing up, she didn't notice me.
'Chalo, let me show you our room,' Neeru said and led me to her room, which she shared with
Khushi. At the door, she gestured with her arm, 'This is our room,' making my eyes go from right to
left.
While she talked about the different things present in her room, I was busy seeing something else.
My eyes fell on the bed where there lay something so attention-grabbing, so fascinating. The pink and
sky-blue suit, that my lady had taken off herself a few minutes back, was lying on her bed, inside out.
It was spread upon the surface of the bed, covering half of it. I don't know why it was so exciting for
me to gaze at the clothes which she had been wearing the entire day in front of me. Especially, turned
inside turned out. Oh boy! The fact that, minutes before, she was in them and they were adhering to
her body was sending waves of fantasy through me. A crazy, chilled and warm feeling, that they still
were carrying her fragrance in them, in those wrinkles, in the threads of the stitches that were now
visible, in that sweet wetness on the underarms. I wished I could touch them, feel them, breathe them.
Had Neeru not been there, I would definitely not have been able to stop myself.
But I had to end my fantasy and look at what Neeru was showing me on her different shelves, her
books, her computer and the rest of the room. I was still listening to Neeru when Khushi came in,
looking for us. She was now ready, with her sandals on.
The moment her eyes fell on the bed, she quickly rushed to grab her clothes.
'Shit!' she softly muttered, revealing her shyness at the favor she had unconsciously done for me.
She then took them to the bathroom where she probably hung them behind the door. She thought I was
busy talking to Neeru but, from the corner of my eyes, I noticed what she thought I didn't notice.
4.20 p.m.
By now we were at the door, almost done with our final goodbyes to everybody. Pushkar and Ami di
got in their car. I touched Mumma's feet and she put her hands on my head. I said that I would see her
after I came back from the US. She wished me a happy journey.
Khushi, Neeru and I then made a move towards my cab. The feeling of victory within us was at its
peak then, when we found ourselves at the last step of our mission. Our immediate destination was the
IMS center, where we would drop Neeru who would attend an unscheduled class in an unknown batch.
And Khushi would not step out of the cab as she would be with me for the rest of the evening—
without letting her family know. That was our plan.
But then, something happened the very moment we got into our cab and locked the doors—a
contingency we hadn't even thought about, let alone planned for.
All of a sudden Khushi's mother remembered that she had to go to the dairy, from where she used
to get milk, every evening, for their home. It would soon close down and, with no one left in the
house, it would be a problem for her. And, unfortunately, I found out that, besides IMS, the dairy alsofell on my route.
'Uh … ah … y … yes … we … We will drop her na,' Khushi stammered, looking at Neeru and me,
her eyes full of questions to which neither of us had an answer.
The plan for her escape with me was now dangling on a broken bridge, and we didn't have any idea
what was going to happen next. All we were wondering was: Could we get away with it? How long
would it take for the truth to come out? Would we have to pile on more lies to conceal the first lie?
Then, Khushi whispered in my ear, making sure her mother didn't notice, 'The dairy will come before
IMS. Don't worry.' We would be back on track after the dairy. Or so it seemed.
Khushi started explaining the route to the driver. At times, I felt she was explaining more than
necessary, talking too much. I was not sure if it was her nervousness (her mother was with us!) or her
excitement (the plan could still work out!). Whatever it was, it was making me a little conscious and I
wished that moment would soon pass. No sensible guy would want his future mother-in-law to see him
as a person who deceived her and ran off with her daughter on the very first day.
But Khushi … I don't know what was wrong with her. She was talking a lot. Talking to the driver,
talking to Mumma, talking to everyone. Talking, explaining. Explaining, talking.
And with so much explanation, the driver got little confused and he ended up asking Neeru, who
was sitting on the front seat, 'Mataji to dairy tak jaayengi. Aur aap kahan tak jaaoge? Delhi tak?'
And then the blunder happened.
My excited, talkative, nervous Khushi forgot, for a second, the alibi we'd been building up for the
last hour and said, before Neeru had a chance to answer, 'Nahin bhaiyya, yeh to IMS pe hi utar
jaayegi.'
Before she could understand what she had done, her mother tapped her shoulder and asked, 'Ye to
IMS pe hi utar jayegi matlab? Tuney kahaan utarna hai fir?' Of course her mother's radar had become
very active, trying to understand what was happening.
'Gayi bhains paani mein,' I heard Neeru say to herself without looking back. My expression said,
'Holy Shit!'
And Khushi.
Khushi bit her tongue, realizing the mess she had created. She took another name—a friend she was
going to meet first, so that she could take her notes. But her mother had already smelled something
fishy and she looked at Neeru and asked, 'Neeru. What's happening?'
And Neeru, helping her elder sister out of the mess, replied, 'Mumma, she has to get her maths
notes from a friend, first.'
At that moment, the cab arrived at the dairy where their mother was to halt. I'm sure she wanted to
say a lot of things to her daughters, especially the elder one but, because of my presence, she only
said, 'Come back home on time. Theek hai?'
'Haanji. Yes, Mumma,' the females in the cab replied. And I bid goodbye to their mother for the
last time.
A soon as she left and the cab moved on, Neeru and I both yelled, 'What the hell did you do!?'
Khushi looked down and said, 'Sorry,' like a kid whose parents have caught him breaking a window
with his cricket ball.
'Marte marte bache hain … Ye bhi naa,' Neeru said.
Still, all of us were relieved by the narrow escape. But it was not an escape. Parents know theirchildren so well. They have spent much more time than us in this world and, of course, if at our age
we think we are smart, then at their age they are smarter. Her mother had understood very well that
her elder daughter was definitely not heading towards IMS but someplace else. But that's the beauty
of a mother's heart. She allowed her to go, without letting her know that she knew where her daughter
was going.
Back in the cab, Neeru and I were laughing at Khushi's great work. I noticed the driver's smiling
face in the rearview mirror. He had also figured out what we were up to. In another five minutes, we
reached
IMS, where Neeru got down.
'Bye-bye beautiful,' I waved my hand.
'Byeeee,' she sang in her sweetest voice and reminded me, 'Bring me a ton of chocolates from the
US.'
'I will, for sure,' I replied.
She then walked towards her destination and we moved towards ours—the hotel I was staying in, in
Delhi. This part of the plan even Neeru didn't know about. All she was told by her sister was that we
were going to watch a movie. A double-cross!
Khushi, again, touched my heart with this. I was happy seeing her excitement and satisfaction
matching mine. My love had cooked up a story to spend time with her prince charming. (Oh, yes! I
was given that title by my princess, that evening.) I appreciated her guts and her willingness to be with
me. After all, she was the one who lied and planned things. The eagerness in her, to spend a few more
moments with me, an evening … The trust she showed in me that day created an intangible bond
between our hearts.
I turned towards her and saw that beautiful innocent face glowing with happiness. I was sitting by
her side and it was like being in a beautiful dream. Yes, I know what was happening was all real. Yet,
it was so magical. Even the air that surrounded us in the cab was different. I felt great and was glad
that she was mine and I was with her. And, at that point of time, I never knew she was going to give
me the best hour of my life.
At about 6 p.m. that evening, we reached my hotel. Before we got down, I asked the cabdriver to be
back by 7.30 so that I could drop her home by 8.45 or so. According to the plan, her class at IMS was
to last till 8.30 that evening.
Walking up the staircase of the hotel I felt a different feeling. I found myself among a different
section of my friends. Friends who possessed a girlfriend, with whom they hung out in their cars, took
them out to dinner, or maybe to a disco or a movie. Maybe their girlfriends had to lie to their families
too, just like mine. I don't know why I never felt that way earlier. Khushi had been in my life for a
couple of months by then. But I guess her presence in front of me was making me see myself in that
class of my friends. And, to be honest, seeing myself in that category was exciting. With her in my
life, the world appeared so good to me.
Walking together, we reached room 301 once again. I handed over the keys of the room to her—I
wanted her to open my room.
We entered and I switched on the light. My room was a little messy, with many things dumped on
the bed—the empty water bottle, a T-shirt, my cellphone's charger and hands-free set all tangled upwith each other, the bed sheet half on the bed and half on the floor and some of my official, but not-
so-important documents underneath my pillow.
'Sorry for this mess. I thought the hotel people would do this,' I said, rubbing my hand behind my
neck.
She smiled, probably recalling how I used to boast that I was a neat and tidy guy. She could now see
that with her own eyes.
'I'll be back in a minute,' I said and went to the washroom to wash my tired and oily face.
When I came out, two or three minutes later, I saw something which pleased me immensely. My
room had been tidied up in those few minutes. From my bed, the things had returned to their proper
places. The T-shirt in the closet, the charger wrapped and placed beside the TV on the TV set, the
empty water-bottle in the dustbin, the official papers all piled up on the table beside the bed.
And who did that? Of course, it was the real neat and tidy person in that room.
Wow! Now that's what being with a girl is. I felt this for the very first time. This is what is called a
woman's touch. This is why we keep hearing, 'Men build houses, but women make homes.' And now I
had found one such woman.
A little later, we were sitting on the bed, with our feet in the channel between the two beds. On my
laptop we were watching a dance video in which I had performed some time ago. It was a cultural
festival back at Infosys. She was so excited to see me dancing and kept saying that if she happened to
get on board at Infy, we will perform together at the next cultural meet. With those glittering eyes, she
kept looking at the laptop's screen. And I kept looking at her …
I am still not sure what was so beautiful about the side of her neck, underneath her ear, to which her
long earring was drawing my attention. I stared at her neck and I stared at it some more. Her beauty
was trapping my senses. And my senses were freezing every second. She was still watching that video
when I came very close to her neck and, without uttering a single thing, I kissed her there.
I did not see her expression then, as I was still feeling her neck and the sweet smell of her body.
This happened in no time and she was not in a condition to react either. When she gained her senses in
a while, she responded by raising her face, letting me get to her neck, beneath her chin, and I went
ahead, kissing each and every cell of hers. Our eyes were closed. I grabbed her in my arms, felt her
arms stiffening and gripping tightly the corner of my shirt, her voice expressing what she felt.
The video on my laptop was still running, but it failed to interrupt us.
She almost left herself in my hands. I leaned on her a bit and she leaned on the bed, our feet still
touching the ground. She crossed her hands around my neck and my hands were supporting her body.
Together we were sliding down, every single second. The kisses and passionate hugs continued till we
fell on the bed.
Suddenly, I remembered something. 'I'll come in a second, just a single second,' I whispered in her
ear. Her eyes were still closed. And I went and checked and double-locked the room. I switched off
our room's bright light and switched on the washroom's light allowing it to illuminate our room
softly. I did that for a reason which I did not tell her—memories from a movie were bothering me, in
which a hidden camera in a hotel room captured a couple.
Then I came back to her. But her eyes were not closed any more. She was staring at me as I walked
towards her. Holding her hands in mine I stood by her and looked into the depth of her eyes. And, forthe first time, I noticed something different in them. I saw a girl in whose heart fear had entered. Then
I realized what caused it. The innocent girl, whom I saw in those eyes, was afraid of being with a guy,
especially on his bed, in a closed room, double-locked, which was not even lit properly, but
illuminated by a dim light seeping in from the washroom's open door. She did not say anything, but I
saw everything that was going through her mind at that instant.
'Shona …' she said, and I gently whispered 'Ssshhh!' and placed my hand upon her lips, not
allowing her to speak. I ran my palm across her forehead and very gently closed her eyes once more,
my fingers flowing on her eyelashes. Then I said to her, very softly, 'You know what? I won't do
anything which our conscience and values don't allow. I just can't. For the simple reason that I love
you. I know my limits and I promise nothing will happen to make you feel uncomfortable, nothing
that you will regret later. I promise … Just be with me in this moment.' And my angel wrapped me in
her arms, pulling me closer to her.
'Shona!' she called my name with such affection. 'I love you so very much, for everything you do
for me.' I felt her hands crawling on my back. Her fear had disappeared and she was celebrating
having me in her arms.
I was lying partly on the bed and partly on her. She was becoming mischievous and I was no
different. Neither of us knew when the video in my laptop stopped. But the moment I realized this,
without her noticing, I ran my favorite soundtrack's playlist on my laptop at a low volume, adding to
the romantic ambience of the room.
Everything was just perfect—a dimly lit room, light music running in the background, nice bed
sheets, and she and I.
I blew upon her eyes, which made her lashes go down further, gently closing her eyes. That wisp of
air moved on her forehead from left to right, back to her eyes, then her cute nose, making an irregular
figure on her cheeks, scrolling between her lips and riding her chin from where it slid down to her
neck and was lost in the air between us. She opened her eyes again. I touched her nose with mine after
which I rubbed it against hers, just like mothers do to their beautiful babies to express their love. She,
too, was a beautiful baby. My baby. She smiled with that mischievous shyness.
What a beautiful moment that was! And, of course, I had to make it a memorable one, and how
could that be without a kiss? And that's why, in no time, I thought of so many things to make it a
perfect kiss … I'll do this … I'll do that … I will embrace her this way, hold her face that way … and
then … So much planning for a kiss. And, then, I went for it.
Soon, our faces were close to each other, slightly tilted at opposite angles, our warm breaths falling
on each other's lips. My lips touched hers. I kissed her. And I kissed her again.
I don't remember when I closed my eyes and I was lost in her. That moment was a heaven that I
knew for the first time in my life. In that moment, I forgot everything, forgot everything that I had
planned a few minutes back. Forgot even the fact that I had planned something. Forgot that the next
day I was to leave this country. Forgot my job, the CAT exam, forgot my friends and my family.
Forgetting everything, I lived that one moment … The best hour of my life.
I don't remember whether I opened my eyes first, or she did. But we were looking into each other's
eyes.
I was still lying on her.She smiled, I smiled.
She blinked her eyes, I blinked mine.
Kissing my forehead one more time, she said, 'I love you soooooooooo much, Shona.'
And I rubbed my nose against hers one more time and repeated, 'I love you so so so so much,
sweetheart.'
We had been so busy with our romance that we forgot to look at the time. We had asked the cab
driver to be there at the hotel entrance by
7.30. The wall clock in front of me said it was 8.30. 'Uh-oh! Do you know what time it is?' I asked,
very casually, smiling. She immediately looked at the clock. And then she screamed, just like the way
she did the day before.
'EIGHT THIRTY????'
And with that, she got up from the bed, panicked, rushed here and there grabbing her belongings,
her cell, her purse, her sandals … and a lot more. I switched on the lights to help her.
She then rushed to the washroom, splashed a little water on her face, used the spare towel hanging
behind the door, pulled a comb out of her purse, got her hair done, pulled out a lipstick and daubed it
on her lips.
Watching her, I wondered how much lipstick I had swallowed and I laughed at myself without
saying anything. As she was getting ready, I picked up her purse. 'Boy! Seems like a magical purse.
So many things are coming out of it—comb, lipstick, hanky … Let me see what else is left in this,' I
said laughing.
And at that very moment, she slapped my hand which was trying to unzip the purse. 'Bad manners!
A boy should never check a girl's purse.' 'But, why? Do you girls carry bombs in your purses?' I said
handing it over. 'Even at my office, they have appointed a lady at the gate to check the purses of all
the girls. I wonder what funny things those girls show her in their purses … they smile looking at her
and then she smiles back at them.' I laughed at my joke, but she didn't.
She was worried about getting late. I noticed that and, parking my lavish laughter somewhere, tried
to console her with a smile, 'It's ok, Khushi. Relax. We'll reach your place before 10 p.m. Don't
worry, dear.'
Wearing her sandals, she said, 'Shona, if we don't reach on time and they find out at home, na, I'll
be in big trouble.'
Seeing her in this state I went close to her and put my hands on her shoulders. 'Khushi. Everything
is going to be fine. No matter what, you won't be in any trouble. I promise. Will you trust me now?' I
gently asked her.
And very innocently she nodded her head.
'Take a deep breath, have a sip of water and we will move out.'
A few minutes later we were in the back-seat of our cab.
'Bhaiyya, back to Faridabad, from where we came,' Khushi said to the driver, in haste.
But, as we found out when we came out of the hotel, it had rained heavily during the past hour.
Water was flushing down from the corners of the roofs of nearby buildings, rattling down pipes from
various floors to the common ground. Manholes on the roads were open to let the accumulated water
on the streets drain out.Our cab started rolling.
'Bhaiyya, how long will it take?' she asked the driver.
'Kuch keh nahin sakte, madam. Bahut baarish hui hai. Bus aagey road pe kahin jam na laga ho.'
The thought of a possible traffic jam worried her all the more. She looked at me. And I told her to
relax. 'I am there with you, right? So why are you worried? We'll reach on time.'
Hearing my tone, the driver too realized that he should not scare her. In fact, he added, 'Madam,
ghabraane waali to koi baat hi nahin hai. Hum pahunch jaayenge.'
But soon we found ourselves in trouble. About fifteen minutes from my hotel we got stuck in a
traffic jam—probably the biggest I have ever seen in my life. There were hundreds of cars in front of
us, I'm sure. A horrible jam. Water rushed over the roads towards the drains. Everything out there was
wet. The shops were closing; their wet shutters were rolling down. The cars, big and small, struggled
to find their way. None of the vehicles on that road stayed in line. Everyone was on their own, finding
a little space for themselves, competing with each other because of which no one was able to move
ahead. What a mess!
'A truck's engine has failed to start, half a kilometer ahead,' we heard, when our driver rolled his
window down. Hearing this, almost everyone switched off their engines. Inside our cab, the mercury
of panic and helplessness was rising.
Half an hour after the most wonderful time together in my hotel room, we were now entering a
phase full of anxiety and despair. With me was a girl who had lied to her family and managed to
escape with me. Apart from her office, she had never stayed out so late at any other place. But that
day, she was in another state and the guy she had put all her trust in (of course, me) was not familiar
with the city. And time … Time was running fast in my wrist watch, but stood stagnant when I
glanced at the traffic around us. Fifteen minutes passed and our cab did not move an inch. It would be
wrong to say that I was not panicking. But I was aware of my responsibilities. I was responsible for
Khushi's safety.
Eventually, our cab driver also switched off the cab's engine which raised the already high levels of
anxiety within us still higher. Somehow, a running engine in a traffic jam still appears more hopeful
than a switched-off one. Of course, it's all psychological but, unfortunately, it made an impact on both
of us.
And since it never just rains, but it pours—Khushi's cellphone started ringing.
She looked at me in fear. I looked at my watch. It was close to 9 p.m.
'What if it's Mumma's phone?' she asked, worried and all I could say was, 'First see who's
calling.'
She opened her purse and breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank God! It's Neeru.'
She put the phone on speaker. Clearing her throat and recovering her strength (which she lost when
she heard the ring), she said, 'Neeru.'
'Where are you, yaar?' Neeru asked.
'Yaar, we're stuck in a traffic jam.'
'But you're in Faridabad only na?'
'Haan baba … We went to see a movie. Meanwhile it rained heavily and all the water on the road
has caused a traffic jam and we're stuck.''Theek hai, but come home quickly. I have reached home and have told Mumma that your doubt
class got delayed and you'll reach here in another twenty–thirty minutes.'
'Thanks. We're just waiting for this jam to clear. I'll be home soon,' Khushi said and hung up.
Twenty–thirty minutes!? Nobody could drive to Faridabad that fast, even if the roads were
completely empty. Even Khushi knew that.
'Shona, I'm feeling very tense,' she said, her voice scared and soft.
But obviously we'd be tense. Still, I said, 'I know dear. But we should not lose patience. In the
worst case, we'll reach your place a little late, right? Don't worry. If that happens, I will explain
everything to Mumma. Theek hai?' I tried to console her, raising my hand to move her head close to
me so that she could rest on my shoulder.
The next moment we noticed the traffic moving ahead from one corner of the road. Like everyone
else, our driver started the engine and followed the herd of the vehicles. A ray of hope brightened our
faces.
In a while our driver gave us a reason to bolster our smile. 'Sahib ab nikal jaayenge aaraam se, jam
khul gaya hai. Bas ek baar border cross kar lein. Phir highway theek hai.'
He was referring to the Delhi-Haryana border which we successfully crossed in another 20 minutes.
But our destination was still miles away.
Her head was still on my shoulder and I kept talking to her, trying to divert her mind. She was
moving her fingers on my palm, drawing imaginary lines, playing like a kid. When she reached my
third finger, she started playing with the ring I was wearing. It was an unusual ring with three
intersecting silver circles, just like the Olympic circles.
When she asked me about that ring, I took it as an opportunity to divert her from the panic of the
moment and started telling her a little story about my ring which became as mysterious as The Lord of
the Rings.
'Aaah!' I said, as if she had stepped on a broken limb.
'What happened?' she asked, raising her head from my shoulder.
'Nothing,' I replied very sadly, turning my head to the other side, looking outside the cab's window.
Surprised by my reaction, she did not say anything but waited for me to speak. And I did, saying, 'I
knew, someday I would have to tell you about this …'
This statement raised her eyebrows and she insisted I tell her everything. I kept looking out of the
window and she kept asking me to reveal the story behind it. 'Bataao na Shona … Tell me please …'
I was killing time. The cab was speeding ahead. And thoughts were running through her mind about
the mystery ring on my third finger. More so, because I appeared so reluctant to tell her.
'Shona tell me na … kya baat hai,' she again asked, turning my face towards her with her hand.
'Khushi …'I said, looking at her.
'Hmm …?'
'Almost a year back, before I met you … Before I met you … I mean … It was like … One day a
beautiful girl put this ring on my finger …' and I turned away, avoiding her eyes and looking outside
the cab again.
Silence …
She was still listening—all ears—forgetting completely that we were getting late.Looking out of the cab I continued, 'I always wanted to tell you this, but … but never got a chance,
for I didn't know how you will feel about all this.'
Her eyes were staring at me with so many questions.
The next second, her cellphone rang. It was Neeru again, saying how their mom was getting restless
and the fact that, by now, she knew well enough that Khushi had not been to IMS but somewhere else
with me. She also said that it was raining heavily in Faridabad. And all that Khushi told her was to
manage the situation somehow, 'Tell her that I am stuck in the rain.' Sweet Neeru was bouncing like a
shuttle between her mother and her sister. This is the fate of being the youngest in the family—
everyone tends to push you around.
The moment she hung up, she returned to the earlier topic.
'A girl gave you this?' she asked, looking at the ring and then at me. That wasn't her only question,
though. There was a fusillade, ready for me. And I kept beating around the bush. This went on for
some 15 minutes, when she finally asked me, pulling my hand over her head, 'Swear on me, did a girl
slip this on your finger?'
So much expectation in her eyes. Expectation that I should speak the truth. And also the expectation
that my answer should be a big 'No'—which would have meant that my entire story was a lie meant
only to scare her. But, breaking her second expectation, I nodded my head, acknowledging that all she
heard was true.
Pin-drop silence …
The environment inside the cab now was much more tense. The traffic jams, reaching home late,
standing before her mother to admit her lie, all of this appeared so minuscule in front of this giant
truth. The girl, who was in my arms so passionately an hour ago, was now facing such a different
truth. I expected her to shout at me, to yell at me, to do something before I told her. And I wanted this
to continue for a few more miles.
And I was doing that for a reason. The more time I consumed, the lesser she would have worried
about reaching home so late. It was already 10 p.m.
But when that sweet and innocent heart sobbed, when the first tear came out of those beautiful eyes,
I had to break the mystery. How could I see her crying?
'Hey Shonimoni … Listen to me.' And I took her in my arms and said, 'All that you heard was true,
but in a totally different aspect. You have to know the complete story.'
'Tell me then,' she said, rubbing her eyelash like a kid, her eyes on me again.
'The girl who slipped this on … I don't even know her name. I hardly met her for ten minutes.
Almost a year back, I was at Waterloo station in London along with my friend, waiting for my train to
Belgium. Because my train was a little late, my friend and I visited a little stall on the platform near
us. A girl in that stall was selling rings. From the display, I liked this one and picked it up. But I was
wondering how to wear this ring with three circles. To help me, she held my hand and slipped it on. It
looked good. I thanked her, paid her five pounds and walked away to catch my train.'
With that, my tense expression turned into a mischievous one and I noticed the curve of her lips
expanding every microsecond. Her wet eyes were now glittering again.
'One more thing …'I interrupted her smile. 'That girl … She was damn beautiful!' And I laughed.
And she laughed too, punching me on my chest and shoulders. 'Youuuu … You know how badlyyou scared me? I'm gonna kill you,' she kept shouting at me and punching me while I was trying to
safeguard myself.
But the next minute, her cell rang again and on its screen was flashing 'Neeru calling …'
Khushi took the call and said, 'Neeru … I'm just about to reach … And listen …'
She did not complete her line but paused then and there. It wasn't Neeru, but her mom.
The fear returned to her face. She was shaking. Patting the shoulder of the driver she gestured him
to mute the radio, and with a finger on her lips told me to stay silent. Then she put her cell on speaker
again. It was 10.10.
She tried hard to convince her mom that she was still at IMS, stuck in the rain. I don't know how
successful she was. It was getting difficult for her to hide the truth. The last thing she told her mom
was not to worry as her entire batch was with her, after which both of them hung up.
All my effort to divert her attention to something else with my ring story crashed in a minute.
While she kept her cell back in her purse, the driver turned the radio on again, at a low volume.
By then we were on Mathura Road, heading towards her home in Faridabad.
'Bhaiyya, how much more time?' she asked the driver.
But the driver did not respond and I sensed something was very wrong.
A never-ending pool of water was in front of us, covering everything on the ground. The road had
disappeared and even the divider was submerged. Our cab was, even now, running on water-covered
road. Every single minute, the water level was increasing, reaching almost a foot. The culprit was
Faridabad's fabulous drainage system.
There were no street lights on that road. Or if there were, they were out of order. In that pool of
water, there were various vehicles struggling to move ahead, inch by inch. In the headlights of our cab
I saw waves in the water, carrying leaves and stems of small creepers and weeds, beating against the
bodies of the vehicles stuck in the spate. The cab was still going ahead, at a slower speed. We were
moving into deeper water now and, finally, the driver said he couldn't go ahead. 'Sahib ye choti gaadi
hai, engine mein paani chala jaayega. Hum aur aagey nahin jaa sakte.'
I tried to persuade him to go ahead but he was adamant and I got furious. 'Bhaiyya. Is vakt na, mera
dimaag bahot jaada kharaab ho raha hai, aur agar fir se tumne ye kaha naa …' I said to him, losing
my patience, when Khushi held my wrist stopping me from saying any more. She knew we did not
have any option but to survive on the driver's mood. So I changed my tone and told him in a
gentlemanly way, 'Bhaiyya, mujhe sirf inhe ghar tak pahonchaana hai. Aap please aagey chalte raho.
Agar aapki cab kharaab hui to jo bhi kharcha hoga vo main de dunga.'
With my pleading, somehow he agreed to move ahead. He drove the cab further but the going was
very slow.
It was 10.30 now. I knew that our situation was tense, and I was sick and tired of being tense.
Our cab was stuck in that messy pool when, all of a sudden, a truck passed us on our left. I saw
those giant wheels churning the water like a turbine, generating big waves of water. I was trying to
show Khushi those circular waves, whose circumference was exponentially rising from my left to her
right, when I felt my socks getting wet inside my shoes.
'What the fuck!?'
The dirty water on the road was now seeping into our cab. Water, water and more water …Everywhere. Bubbling sounds came from under the cab's doors. Our feet were dipped in water, like
tea bags in a cup of tea.
'Shit … so much water?' she screamed.
We took off our shoes and lifted our legs up on the seats.
'Yeh to hona hi tha,' the driver said.
At that time, we were not very far from her house. On a normal day, it would have been a fifteen-
minute drive. But stuck in that disaster, it was hard to predict how long it would take.
Gradually, the view outside our cab was getting even worse. One by one, almost all of the vehicles
stopped moving. Their engines took their last breaths and failed to start again. I saw people getting out
of their cars and pushing them from behind, in order to get them out of that pool. It was a complete
mess. People, with their trousers rolled up to their knees, barefoot, out of their vehicles, were shouting
at each other for various reasons and for no reason. Some of them had even taken off their shirts.
The few, who were still behind the steering wheel, were struggling hard to drive and constantly
cursing each other, especially the autorickshaw-wallas. 'Tere baap ki sadak hai?' 'Abey saaley peeche
hatt!' 'Arey teri maa ki …' They were getting into fights, leaving behind their dead autos.
Back in the cab our minds were tense and tired of the events of the last two hours. Looking at her
then, I found her hands joined and eyes closed. She was praying to God. She was very scared. And
maybe her prayers were being heard. Maybe that was why our small cab was still moving ahead in the
water when almost all the small cars on that road had broken down.
Meanwhile, she got another call from her mother, who was now more furious and more worried.
And when she said that she had called up Khushi's cousin (who also lived in Faridabad) to go to IMS
and bring her home, we had to reveal the truth.
Taking a deep breath Khushi said, 'Mumma, main IMS mein nahin hun. Main Ravin ke saath hun …
shaam se. I am sorry ki maine aapko jhoot bola.'
I held her hand in my hand. We were both scared of what her mother's reaction would be.
And Khushi told me, after the call, that, surprisingly, her mother relaxed when she heard the truth.
Maybe she thought that her daughter was with someone she thought she could trust. The city was not
safe for women, especially at night, when the savages of the city came out of their dens and did all
manner of ill. So, maybe, her mother felt some comfort knowing I was with Khushi.
But the 'truth' we told her on the phone was still a half-truth.
When asked where we had been till then, Khushi told her what she told Neeru, 'Mumma … we went
to watch a movie. And when we came out, it had rained so much, there was water everywhere, and
then the traffic jam …'
While she was convincing her mom, she stole a moment to whisper in my ears, 'We had been to see
Munnabhai, all right?'
And I loved her for this very reason. The way she had the guts to take all sorts of risks to make me
feel happy, to make me enjoy that day of my life with her, and to endure scoldings from her family for
that … I felt blessed to have her in my life.
Once that confession-call ended, we felt relaxed, as if we had got a weight off our hearts.
We had just taken a left turn to enter her street when our cab suddenly tilted to the left. The three of
us slid down towards our left and our hands grabbed our seats, trying to keep our bodies upright. More
water rushed in. There was now about half a foot of water in the cab. Our shoes were floatingsomewhere inside.
Our tilted cab failed to move ahead, no matter how much the driver accelerated. The left front-
wheel seemed to be stuck in a pothole. In order to move ahead, the driver asked me to push the cab
from behind. So I jumped out into the puddle. It felt just like jumping into the shallow end of a
swimming pool except, in a swimming pool, the water is not so dirty and you are not in your jeans and
shirt.
I stood barefoot in that puddle. My feet touched small stones with sharp edges and some bushy stuff
which might have been weeds or some small, watery insects. It was a little scary. The water came up
to my thighs. Even rolling up the jeans to my knees did not serve any purpose. I went behind the cab.
The driver was still accelerating hard and Khushi kept saying, 'Shona … Sambhaal ke … Dhyaanse.'
I pushed the cab hard, but nothing happened.
'Sahib aur jor se …' shouted the driver from inside.
Of course, he was shouting and talking to me. But I was lost in my thoughts …
I was supposed to catch my flight in six hours. I should have been back in my hotel room in Delhi,
taking a nap so that I could wake up by 4 a.m. and go to the airport. But I was far away, stuck on a
road in a different city, in wet jeans, a wet shirt and, perhaps, wet innerwear too, standing in a never-
ending dirty pond, pushing a cab to take my girlfriend back to her home.
To be honest, I had no hopes of making it to the airport in the morning. Of course the trip to the
States was important and, for that, catching the flight a few hours from now was important, and for
that returning to the hotel in Delhi was important but, above all, to get her home was the most
important.
'Sahib aur jor se …' shouted the driver one more time.
Finally, we were successful in getting the cab out. I observed Khushi, who had turned around in her
seat and was looking at me, breathing a sigh of relief.
The depth of water on the street ahead was terrifying. Going on in that small cab did not look like a
good decision at all. After a little brainstorming we concluded that rest of the distance could only be
crossed by rickshaw. Because of its big wheels a rickshaw seemed to be the only viable option. So I
walked down the road, still barefoot, to find a rickshaw. And I happened to find one, with much
difficulty, but the rickshaw-walla did not agree to drive on that flooded street. When he finally did
agree, it was because I paid him ten times the normal fare and, that too, in advance. My necessity was
his opportunity.
I sat on the rickshaw and got back to the cab. I noticed blood on my right foot—I had a cut on my
right toe. But there were other things to worry about. Back at the cab, I asked the driver to wait for me
till I came back after dropping her home. I took his cell number and gave him mine.
Khushi got out of the cab and sat on the rickshaw. She was so shocked by everything that was
happening that she forgot to get her sandals and it took me a few minutes to find them. (Searching for
your girlfriend's footwear in the back of a car, your hands dipped in a dirty pool of water … Who says
love is always a pleasant experience!)
The water level on this street was the highest and I warned the rickshaw-walla, 'Bhaiya yahaan par
jaraa dhyaan se …' The wheels of the rickshaw were almost submerged in the water and, at times, the
water was splashing at our feet. The rickshaw puller's thighs moved in and out of the water on theroad as he paddled strenuously. But we were making progress and, in another five minutes, our
journey was going to end.
And with that would end our being together, so close to each other for so long that day. In the next
few minutes I was going to see her for the last time, before I left the country. All this was running
through our minds.
And that instant turned into an emotional, romantic moment.
Other than our rickshaw, there was no vehicle in that deserted street filled with water. Submerged,
the entire street appeared so desolate. A different kind of silence prevailed and the loudest noise was
the churning of the water from the wheels of our rickshaw. The moon in the sky above saw us
together, in that hard time, attempting to get out of it, our care for each other. She was resting her head
on my shoulder, her hands were in my lap. With my right arm around her shoulder I was supporting
her as the rickshaw made its way on the uneven road. And in my other hand I was holding her sandals.
Taking her sandals from my hand and dropping them on the footrest of the rickshaw, she held my
hand and said, 'Shona! Our love story is so different … Isn't it?'
'Hmm …'I smiled.
'The way we found each other,' she said.
'The way we kept talking on the phone and chatting for the past few months,' I added.
'The coincidences.'
'The way we fell in love without even seeing each other.'
'The way we finally met and spent the entire day.'
'And the way we are now.'
Indeed, everything was so different about our love story.
'Can I say something, Khushi?'
'Yes,' she said with such warmth.
'I am glad that such a night came in our life. You know why? After our marriage, sitting together on
our terrace on beautiful nights, we will recall this hard time so many times … I feel so good that I am
able to get you back to your place,' I said.
She pulled my hand towards her and kissed it.
'Now, can I say something?' she asked me.
'Hmm … Yes.'
'I am so fortunate to have you in my life. The way you take care of me, protect me, love me … I
know our relationship does not need words like 'thank you' and 'sorry' but there is one thing which
you did today and won my heart, for which I can't help thanking you.' She paused for a while and then
said, 'Shall I tell you what it was?'
'Hmm.'
'I really wanted to thank you for those beautiful words you whispered in my ear, in your room. That
you wouldn't do anything our conscience did not permit. You won my heart one more time when you
promised me that there would be nothing that I did not like, nothing that I'd regret later. For a girl,
those words mean a lot and I am glad you said them. I love you so much but, more than that, I respect
you for what you are.'
She opened her heart to me. In that moonlight, sitting beside her on that rickshaw, sailing in that
pool of water, I realized how happy she was. Maybe that's why her eyes got wet and happinessdropped off her eyelashes.
'I love you Shona … Always be with me in good times and in bad, just the way you are now,' she
said.
'I promise,' I said, wiping her tears.
Our romantic, moonlight safari ended when we reached her home. At the gate were Neeru and her
mother who, after breathing a sigh of relief on seeing her daughter, walked back inside showing her
motherly anger.
We got down and I asked the rickshaw-walla to wait for five minutes.
At the gate I asked Neeru, 'What's her mood?'
'Till now she was worried, but now it's time for her to show anger. But she won't say much because
you're here,' Neeru replied, smiling.
'Chal, I'll take care of that. But hey! Thank you soooooooo much for helping us so far.'
And the three of us marched in, with me in front.
I saw Mumma sitting in the drawing room. Without caring that my wet jeans were spoiling their
carpet, I went to her. Just like any mother in this world would have felt, she too was angry. Without
saying a word to her, I kneeled down in front of her. Yes, I was on my knees in front of my future
mother-in-law, looking in her eyes.
Very politely I told her, 'Khushi ki koi galti nahi hai is mein. Ye saara plan mera tha. And you can
punish me for that.' (And I said to myself, 'Please do it fast, I have to catch my plane in a few hours.')
Standing at the door, both the sisters looked at me. I don't know what they thought. Was I brave or
stupid? I did not want Khushi to keep answering her mother's questions after my departure so I tried
to sort things out, as far as possible, while I was present. I did what I felt would safeguard her.
The next moment, Mumma helped me get up and said, 'Ise itna pyaar karti hu naa, isliye itni chinta
hoti hai iski. Thodey dino mein chale jaana hai isne yahaa se aapke ghar …' She melted inside,
thinking about her beloved daughter. All mothers are so emotional, even mine was.
She further said that we could have told her the truth and then left in the evening. She wouldn't have
said no. ('Of course, she would not have said no for Munnabhai, but what about Delhi?' I was still
talking to myself.)
Well, that's how I handled the situation back at her place. When I checked my watch next, it was
midnight and I had to leave for Delhi, crossing the same pool of water, the same brawls and the same
border, in the same watery car. Time was still running out and, if everything went well, I would be at
Indira Gandhi International Airport in another five hours.
The atmosphere at her place was much better now. I walked down to the bathroom, badly needing to
pee. Of course, being in those wet jeans for almost two hours and surrounded by water and more
water, it was only natural.
A little later, back at the main gate, all the three ladies waved me goodbye. But I waved to the one
standing ahead of everybody. I felt so different again. I was waving to the girl with whom I spent the
longest day of my life, the girl with whom I enjoyed the best hour of my life. And I kept looking at her
till my rickshaw took a left turn and she slipped out of my field of vision and I from hers.
In a short while, I was back in the cab. The water level on road had gone down and the conditions
were better now. We didn't have too many problems going back. The traffic was negligible by then,though I still saw a few dead vehicles on either side of the road.
Every fifteen–twenty minutes, Khushi kept calling me on my mobile to check if everything was
fine. She told me she was out of her wet attire and was lying in her cute night dress on her cosy bed. I
loved it when she said that. It felt like being with her again. We couldn't talk too long though, as my
cellphone's battery was dying.
I asked the driver to switch on the radio, wanting to celebrate the victory of the day or, probably,
one of the memorable victories of my life. Sitting beside the driver I pulled back my seat to stretch
my aching, wet legs. Tapping my feet (and the injured toe) gently to the music. I looked in the
rearview mirror, on my left and I saw a reflection …
A reflection of the lights, of those vehicles struggling in the water, a reflection of the moment when
she was resting her head on my shoulder in the rickshaw, a reflection of the time I was pushing the
cab, of the calls from her home which we were too scared to pick up. A reflection of that perfect kiss
in Room No. 301, that evening.
And, watching those reflections, I smiled and closed my eyes.
'Oh! Mumma … Sheisso perfect!'
I was at the airport, the last person in the long queue heading towards the British Airways terminal.
I was struggling with the laptop hanging on my shoulder, pushing the trolley with the same hand and
talking to my mom and dad on my cell. Outside, it was still dawn. The sun would rise in a few
minutes. And I was damn sleepy. But the cold shower in the hotel helped me wake up. And to push me
into the shower was Khushi, who woke me up at 4 a.m. sharp.
Back in my hometown, mom and dad were anxious to know what happened. Dad seemed to be
enjoying my anecdotes much better than his morning news, otherwise he'd never ask mom to put my
call on the speaker while he had his morning tea. How is her family? How is her Mumma? What did
everyone say? What is their house like? And the craziest question was my mom's: What did you have
for lunch there?
(God! Lunch?)
'Her family is really nice. I met her mother, her elder sister Ami di and Ami di's husband Pushkar.
Her younger sister Neeru was also there. Her mom is just like you. I liked each one of them. Khushi is
a very nice girl, Mumma … And I am very happy,' I said after which Mumma said, 'If you are happy,
we are happy.'
And the happier they were, the more they questioned me. It took me almost half an hour to answer
all their queries before I bade them goodbye and they wished me a happy journey.
After a little while, I felt like calling her. Though I knew she would be sleeping. While I slept in
peace for three hours in my hotel room, she was checking her cell's clock every now and then so that
she could wake me up on time. Now it was her turn to sleep in peace. Still, I dialed her number.
Because in another couple of hours, I wouldn't be able to call her up.
I heard her complete ring, but did not get to hear her voice.
Disappointed, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and moved ahead. People were shoving their
trolleys with one hand, their passport and tickets in the other. Some were enjoying the music flowing
out of their iPods. Indian faces, non-Indian faces. The white kids stood silently in the queue, holding
their parents' hands. The rest of the little ones running here and there, shouting, playing, were allIndian.
I was at the X-ray scanner, waiting for my baggage to slide out, when I heard my cell ringing. It was
her.
'Uth gaya mela baby …?'
'Hmm …' And in her warm, sleepy, heavy voice she was kissing me, probably with her eyes half-
open, still tired. Hearing the sweetness of her voice, I imagined waking up next to her, on the same
bed, some morning.
Clearing her throat, she then started talking to me.
My queue kept moving and we kept talking.
At the baggage check-in section, she was still with me.
At the immigration desk, she was still with me.
At the security check gateway, the officials separated her from me. They asked me to switch off the
cellphone before the check. But the moment I was through with it, she was with me again. I badly
wanted to talk to her, I badly needed her and I wanted to run away from the airport straight back to
her. Actually, I felt like marrying her then and there. I was so much with her for those one and half
hours that I didn't even notice the third and final announcement, meant for me. The last words were:
'… Boarding Flight No. BA182 to New York, please report at gate no. 2.'
I know my next statement will be hard to believe, but this is true. Miles away from me, lying on her
bed in a different city, she heard my name being announced (which I had missed, though the speaker
box was right above me), through my cellphone. Unbelievable, isn't it?
'Shona, I think it's for you,' she panicked.
'What?'
'That announcement. I think it's for you,' she shouted in haste.
'Just a second.'
I patted the back of a white-skinned man in front of me. He had a US flag on his T-shirt. 'Wudgyaa
mind tellin me whom they were caallin for?' I don't know why but talking to goras tends to change my
accent.
'Oh, you mean the last call?'
'Yeah.'
'Some Ravin to New York. For fuck's sake, why are people not on time at the airport?'
And I kept looking into his eyes with anger but didn't say anything. Of course, the fault was mine.
'That's me,' I said firmly, getting closer to his face. 'But you know, hey … Thanks for letting me
know that it was me.'
His face was something to be seen. Pale. Maybe, for a second, he remembered that he wasn't on his
land but mine. But before he could start apologizing, I rushed to gate no. 2.
On the call, Khushi was still waiting for my response.
But, what happened next at the gate was surprising.
'Khushi, I'll call you back in a while,' I said and disconnected the call still trying to understand
what happened.
The security lady at the door had taken my boarding pass, swiped it through a gadget which punched
a single word, in bold red letters, on it. INVALID. She then returned it to me with a smile on her face.
I looked at the pass and then at her face and wondered—Now what the hell was this? Then, shesnatched it back from me and tore it into two pieces, stylishly, and dropped them into the dustbin
beside her desk.
I was completely puzzled. Did they find some drugs in my baggage? Or some smuggled diamonds?
Or may be a hand-grenade? Jesus! I don't even know what grenades look like.
Seeing the restlessness on my face the lady finally revealed what was going on.
'Congratulations, sir! You are our lucky passenger. You won't be traveling in Economy, but in the
Business class.'
With a smile, she handed me a Business class boarding-pass and asked me to move ahead to the
plane. The rest of the population, the poor economy class one's who were made to wait just because of
me, were then allowed to follow.
What a surprise!
Moments later, I was in the plane and Khushi was with me again. I told her about my good luck and
she promptly said, 'Because I'm in your life, only good things will happen to you.'
While talking to her I saw the same passenger passing by—the one with the US flag on his T-shirt. I
waved to him sarcastically and he moved ahead to economy class as if he hadn't seen me. But I knew
he had.
Thirty minutes later, the plane was good to take off. By then, one of the air-hostesses had already
told me, twice, to switch off my mobile. But I was like, 'Who cares?' I was still busy with my
romance on the phone.
When the plane was on the runway, the air hostess pleaded with me again to switch off my cell. I
am sure she must have wondered who allowed me into the Business Class. I was behaving like a
school kid whom teachers tend to compare to a dog's tail—no matter how you try, it can never be
straight.
This time, though, I gestured her to come closer and asked her, 'Have you ever fallen in love?' I
whispered in her ears.
'What?' She took a step back.
'On the other end is my girlfriend, whom I will marry some day. I won't be seeing her for a long
time and these are the few, final moments before I leave this country. And in these moments she wants
to be with me. Shall I tell her that a beautiful air hostess is commanding me not to talk to her?'
She smiled at me and went away. And in a few seconds she returned with a tall glass of juice and
some cookies. Helping me with the blanket, especially covering my mobile and the hands-free wires,
she whispered, 'Enjoy your moments with these.'
And of course I enjoyed my moments with Khushi. She kept kissing me and I was bidding her
goodbye before the network got disconnected.
The plane took off.